Chapter 1: Do I Wanna Know?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The London fog might just have been a metaphor for the dreary energy that infected the city constantly, but there could not be a moment where it did not apply to every hour of the day.
A place full of people crowding the streets in a sea where every wave moves in its own tide, with everyone’s goal constantly being to move, move, move- really, there wasn’t anywhere else an agency for ghost experts on supernatural crimes could thrive.
Edwin moved through the forms of the living, bumping only occasionally into the forms of the fellow dead on his way back from his latest library haul- even if you had spent almost four decades filling your shelves with all the creepiest, crawliest knowledge on man’s earth, you were still bound to find something in the present day that could surprise you. He found it fascinating; no matter how many years passed here, the townsfolk were still gripped by the mist and murk that kept everyone else on their own paths, up their own directions. Now that I am back on mine, I mustn’t stray from it too far.
His mind had caught the memo, yet still they couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering to the topaz ring on a man’s middle finger, the shoulders of a woman’s outrageous fur coat. His ears picking up the yowls of a street cat and pulling his memory back to the small town where all those pieces fit together into a body, an indulgent smirk, a name.
The past was just that, the whole adventure in Port Townsend just a brief pit stop in the middle of forever, which Edwin marked off to experience with a few bittersweet memories and souvenirs. He’d long since put the white lily in a vase upon his work desk, only looking up on occasion to remind himself it meant goodbye, good luck, good riddance.
But a forward step carried him into the scent of firesmoke and cologne, turned Edwin’s head on unintended instinct to meet a young man’s side profile with sloping slit-pupiled eyes of glistening citrine, the corner of his mouth rising in an archaic smile, his head of slicked-back wavy blond hair disappearing into waves of gray.
Edwin paused, only for a moment, to see if there was anything his eye could follow, if he truly had imagined the Cat King of Port Townsend strolling the London streets. If he had somehow, despite everything, held on to something he could transpose from memory.
Eventually, he shook away the possibility, hurried through the door of the Dead Boy Detectives Agency, eager to get back to what he knew, what he’d always known. From the shadowy alleyway three buildings down, the Cat King watched him vanish, confirmed if only to himself, that neither of them had really forgotten.
Notes:
Do I Wanna Know? - Beau + Luci (cover of the song by Arctic Monkeys)
Chapter 2: favorite
Summary:
After Edwin’s first sight of the Cat King fresh from Port Townsend carries him back into the Dead Boy Detective agency, he and the gang busy themselves with another job as they get back into the swing of things. However, was it really just his imagination, or are we about to get another blast from the past?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Once Edwin had successfully convinced himself that his earlier sighting of the Cat King had been nothing more than a stress-induced mirage- which would have had to occur eventually, if your detective agency was joined by a sarcastic psychic, mildly nihilistic butcher, and angel who would insist you called her Niko -he decided to head up the team in selecting the latest job on their choice board.
”There have been reports by citizens both alive and otherwise of a large serpentine, perhaps reptilian creature terrorizing the streets at night. And while we all have our theories as to what it could be-“
”I’m telling you guys, it’s Godzilla,” Niko insisted.
”Nini,” said Crystal patiently, “no.”
”Well, Godzilla or not,” amended Charles, “what else are we here for?”
The rest of the day was spent collecting intel from witnesses both living and dead- living were kept busy by Crystal and Niko while Edwin and Charles snooped around for further clues -and raking through libraries and other supernatural hot spots like lesbian-run greenhouses, antique stores, and thrift stores.
Niko tugged on Edwin’s elbow. “This,” she said holding up another graphic novel with two boys on the front labeled, charmingly, Edwin thought,Heartstopper.“This is what I am assigning you to read after we’re done with this case.”
Edwin accepted with a smile. “I wouldn’t disappoint you with doing anything else.” He continued his browsing until the thud of a large leather tome hit the floor behind his heels, open face flat on the ground.
Picking it up, he saw the book was on elemental sources of magical weaponry; the page that was open was centered on Greek fire, a flickery green substance that was used to vanquish particularly destructive foes. “Interesting.”
Edwin added it to his pile, sure to keep that in mind. Meanwhile, the dark gray cat on the other side of the aisle watched his shoes click out of the aisle, tail flicking side to side in anticipation.
With their collective pool of research back at the agency, the four of them determined that the creature they were looking for was a Greek drakon- similar to that of a wyvern, but much more catastrophic in nature, a sign of doom to every hero it crossed.
”So… we don’t know what kills it?” Crystal summarized.
”Not at the moment, no,” Edwin admitted. “But given all the other research we have done on similar monsters cannot be brushed aside, I say it is imperative that we find out tonight what could be a possible weakness before anyone else gets hurt.”
”I say that sounds brills,” Charles chirped, always helpful. “I mean, I’ve already killed one giant snake with nothing but a sword. How hard can it be to kill another one with the help of my team?”
It was that enthusiasm that Edwin had always loved so dearly about his friend. Certainly, with his determination to fuel their efforts, the possibilities couldn’t be too terrible.
Of course, just because Edwin merely thought that, everything went wrong.
”I thought we said this thing was a snake, not adragon!”Charles screamed.
”It’s adrakon,Charles, that’s just how it looks!” Edwin yelled back.
He’d only gotten the pronunciation incorrect- the drakon had crashed into London’s midnight scene like a train veering off the rails, chasing the agency and their attempts at sating it down Oxford Street. Charles would have been right about the whole snake similarity if the thing didn’t also have wings that made it ten times more destructive. The drakon itself, armored in ink-black scales scuffed with cuts and missing chinks from previous attacks, was very much not harmed.
The gang turned up a hard corner to the left at an intersection, giving Edwin the opportunity to rip through the spell book he’d gotten at the library, only a few pages away from the section on Greek fire when Niko shouted, “Edwin, get down!”
It was a slash from Charles’ trusty new sword that kept the drakon at bay and Edwin safe from a chomp that would have snapped his unalive head off."Edwin, how did your heroes of old fight this thing?" Crystal demanded.
"I'm trying to get to the right page- er- fire! When the Argonauts fought the-"
"Fire!" Charles shouted, nothing if not quick on his feet. "Kill it with fire!"
Invigorated, Crystal whipped out theI Heart Port Townsendlighter she’d gotten from the gift shop before taking the ferry to London. “Charles, I’m gonna need that hairspray from your bag of tricks!”
“But you look beautiful right now.”
”For the fire, dummy.”
“Ah,right, love that.”
He reached in his backpack, chucked the hairspray into her waiting hands, and filled his other one with a burning Molotov co*cktail. “Let’s show this lizard he messed with the wrong detectives!”
Crystal charged forward alongside him, followed by Niko, who had fearfully gotten ahold of a flamethrower from a job Edwin and Charles had done back in ‘98. Crashes and explosions of orange flame caused the drakon to cry out, but Edwin knew it wouldn’t be enough to destroy it- he had finally reached the right page, after all.
He ran to the rest of the team before the drakon, nodded to Charles, who got the signal. “Get back, everyone!” he called out.
Spell in mind, book in hand, Edwin yelled, “Energopoiíste ti fotiá!”* The page simmered with a glow, and the incantation sent forth a cannon of glowing Greek fire the garish green of poison into the creature’s snout, sending it flying backwards smoking into the grand traffic lamppost that crumpled over its massive serpentine body.
"Aces, Edwin!" Charles encouraged.
But the drakon’s advantage was both in size and speed- before Charles was even finished rooting through his bag for another Molotov co*cktail, the beast was shaking off its battered scales, flapping its wings to barrel towards them again, fangs out and ready to stick them through.
"Edwin, I think we're going to need more of that green fire!" Niko piped nervously.
"The spell still needs time to refuel!" Edwin protested uselessly; the paper still hadn't stopped smoldering.
"We don't have time!" screeched Crystal.
Just the drakon's abhorrent scream blew their clothes back in a gust of horrible wind, spearheading towards them like an oncoming plane, and Charles looked ready to smash the bottle onto the blade of his sword and light the thing on fire, there it was- a spark on the stones maybe five feet away from Edwin's shoe, once, barely twice, then a rocketing blast of bright purple fire struck the ground in a great glowing shield that made the drakon hiss, shriek away from the flames.
"Holysh*t!"yelped Charles. "Ed, was that you?"
Edwin’s mind was too jumbled with present matter and past memory to do anything but shake his head; he knew what had saved them- he knew that fire.
Instead of fading out, the flames started to spread around, swirl into a ring surrounding the detectives in a wide circle that kept everyone contained. With every tongue of fire that strengthened it, the figure standing in place of the original wall became more clear: black combat boots set apart, planted into the cobblestones, connecting to greaser blue jeans holding stiff in place. The back of a white rolled-sleeve t-shirt, fabric straining over Spartan musculature like wet drapery over a marble form as the arms it didn't cover held the ring out and steady. A head of bronze and golden waves slicked back faced Edwin, shifting slightly at the churning force of the fire field.
"Noway,"Niko gasped.
“Oh, come on,"Charles groaned.
"Sorry,whatthe hell?" Crystal asked no one in particular.
Edwin hadn’t had use for his lungs in over a century, but suddenly he was unexpectedly breathless. "It really is you."
A low, velvety rumble of a chuckle shook the young man's shoulders in front of them. One glance over them, and the Cat King was grinning shamelessly, roguishly at Edwin again, like no time had passed at all. "Didn't I tell you that you'd miss me?"
The drakon screeched, having taken to the skies above, directing the Cat King's attention upwards. With a joining movement of his arms like he was throwing the curtains together, he broke the circle and launched the fire up into the drakon's gaping jaws like a javelin, a burning pill to swallow. Needless to say, the agency covered their eyes before the final explosion detonated.
The dust and debris settled; the remains of the creature and damage done by it had faded to nothing to fit the lens of a mortal world. All was finally well and good.
"Ohmygod, that was amazing," Niko spewed out.
Satisfied, the Cat King pivoted around to face the beneficiaries of his handiwork. "You're welcome in advance, yes, it's free of charge, andabsolutely,I will be signing autographs."
"Oh, I don't thinkthat'sour concern right now," Charles assured him harshly.
“So, obviously it’s been a while, didn’t want to scare anyone,” the Cat King said, approaching with dramatized caution. “Seemed like you had the whole drakon thing covered, but I just wanted to give you guys a little extra push. More welcoming than a hello, I’d say.”
“How did you know we were fighting a drakon?” Crystal asked.
“I make it my business to know everything happening within my interest.” His eyes glossed over the team in mild acknowledgment, coming to rest languidly on Edwin. “I thought it was a special enough occasion for me to interfere.”
Crystal holding Charles back by the arm, the Cat King stepped over the final range of distance between them. With a voice Edwin commanded not to shake- it daren’t, not when he never thought he’d say the name aloud again -he fit his nerves into one simple, cordial, “Cat King," lifting a hand for him to shake.“Quite gallant of you to help us after such time apart." They were technically business acquaintances.
”Oh, it’s been far too long for that.” The cat upended it with his own and kissed his knuckles instead, making damn sure to look in his eyes as he did. The devilish smile he shot up at Edwin made him almost certain he could feel the contact through his glove. “I missed that handsome face.”
Now, Edwin had been on the receiving end of the Cat King’s flirtations many times; he’d learned to have a response ready. But his resistance had not been tested in so long, and no one else was ever so forward with his intentions. Which, clearly, have not swayed since last we met. It was all Edwin could to zip his mouth shut, keep a cool composure.
Charles, who had not had his mouth restrained, chose that moment to speak up. “Believe it or not, we actually have important business to attend to.”
The Cat King’s eyes flashed to a glare at Charles; it was worth noting he was still a victim to his short temper. “Does this not look important to you?”
”What he means is what’re you doing across the world in London,” Crystal clarified, looking testily at his hold on Edwin’s hand. “A question I think we all have, actually.”
Though he wasn’t directly affected by their pointed criticism, the Cat King released Edwin anyways, stepped a polite distance back.
”No need to point fingers, I’m not the bearer of bad news,” he said. Then, self-correcting, waved a hand in dismissal. “Well, not completely, anyway, I mean, the way things are going here, chasing a giant flying snake around a city, you were bound to have come to the conclusion yourself-“
”Just get on with it, please,” Edwin interrupted, slicing through his rambles.
”Alright, alright, one at a time!” The Cat King held up his hands in surrender, clapped them together with a commiserating smile. “Okay, you got me. I came to tell you that yes, the rumors are true: you guys are in danger again.”
”Damn it,again?”Charles complained.
“What do you mean in danger?” Niko inquired.
”Well, I guess I should be more specific, given who I’m talking to,” the Cat King considered. “It’s not really news to break, more of a warning. All the work you guys did in Port Townsend- slaying monsters, casting spells, killing the most hated witch in miles -it was a pretty tough act to follow. And, in turn, one that grabbed a lot of attention.”
”Unwanted attention, I’m going to assume,” muttered Crystal.
"Attagirl. You might’ve found your calls got even more backlogged than before on coming back to this absolutely spiceless country, and if you haven’t, well, it’s no accident. Hate to break it to you, but that drakon was just the start.” The Cat King shrugged. ”Just thought I’d be a good messenger boy and tell you to bulk up."
“So that’s it then?” Charles demanded. “You’re just gonna dump all that on our shoulders and leave? Just brills- typical, like last time, eh, Edwin?”
“Charles, not now,” Edwin murmured.
“I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to offer my help,” said the Cat King, perhaps in genuine offense- with his theatrical tones, it was often hard to tell. “You just have to be a good boy and ask nicely.”
”And you’re saying we can count on you to help us?” Crystal added on, skepticism palpable.
From what she had experienced of the Cat King, Edwin couldn’t blame her. Even with as much as he’d been able to perceive about him, it was still a worry of his as well. “She’s right,” said Edwin, fixing the Cat King’s stare. “We may receive your warning flag in our defense, but will you return with a weapon when danger does arise?”
The Cat King held his gaze, the impact of Edwin’s words apparent. He wouldn’t insult him so directly as to call him a coward to his face, but they both knew he’d been right in his last words to him behind Jenny’s establishment, about the trait they both shared.A sellsword may swear by his silver tongue, but how can one tell where his loyalties lie?
Without raising his eyes from Edwin’s, the Cat King lifted his hand in a holy oath. “I swear, on the lives buried under my three graves, that yes, whenever I am not needed in Port Townsend, I will come running straight to you in your time of need.” Then, to the rest of the group, starting his stride to pass them by. “Don’t expect it to be all the time- I do have a civilization to keep track of. But don’t worry.”
He slipped his eyes to Edwin as he walked, a mimicry of the glance he’d caught that morning, now with no way to deny its pull. “I’ll never be too far.”
The Cat King’s loping stride turned Edwin’s head a full one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, watching him run a hand over those slicked back waves of blond hair before vanishing into a puff of purple fire, padding off into the darkness as a black cat.
”Well,” Charles piped up, rocking back on his heels. “That was a nice interruption, wasn’t it, Edwin?” Not a word in response. “Ed?”
Edwin watched the cat disappear into the alley. “It was,” he noted. It had left them with a new burden, but also a promise.
Notes:
favorite - Isabel LaRosa
Energopoiíste ti fotiá - 'Summoning of fire' in Greek, drakons are historically Greek monsters.
Chapter 3: Company
Summary:
After much debate in the gang, the Dead Boy Detectives decide to accept the Cat King’s offer of help for a job- which constitutes him coming back to London.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Everyone,honestly,"said Edwin, exasperated. "In this matter, do we really have a choice?"
"I say we do," Charles argued. "We managed to work just fine with plain old detective work and psychic help- we don't need that much else, do we?"
"He literally told us he wouldn't even come if he was busy," Crystal added. "Knowing him, he might just find any petty excuse to blow us off."
"But he sounded like he meant it," Niko protested. "We don't know unless we test it out!"
"Niko is right," Edwin affirmed. "More importantly, so am I- we have played nose-goes, heads-up-seven-up, and are one dire catastrophe away from UNO, the remains of which can and will be left at last Friday night."
"Mate, come on," Charles attempted. "We don'tneedto have him around just for confirmation of things."
"The case goes above all other needs of ours, and that is final," Edwin concluded. "We are calling upon the Cat King."
And so, with one reluctantly sent ghost cat through a mirror, and Charles screeching directions at a pesky immortal who just kept poofing up in the wrong places, the Cat King made his arrival at the Dead Boy Detectives agency.
When Edwin finally did open the door for him, the Cat King made like he was entering a church, grasping at a small, hushed gasp to keep inside. “Oh my God.”
”Yeah, it isn’t much,” said Charles. “Not compared to your mighty kingdom, but-“
”Shut up,” the Cat King cut him off, not even with a look in his direction. “I need to take this in.” Carefully, he padded into the room, making a slow, wondrous turn to absorb the rows of spell shelves, case files, and collected knickknacks crowding bf the walls. “This is where the magic happens,” he whispered. His eyes landed excitedly on the bookcase. “Oh, I’vegotto see this!”
”Do you even rememberwhywe brought you here?” asked Crystal.
The Cat King ignored her entirely, determined to touch everything that looked ancient or expensive. “Man, I haven’t seen a copy of this since the 1800’s,” he marveled, pulling out one of Edwin’s leather tomes. “And what’s this?” He switched off to Niko’s manga shelf, curiously flipping through the pages of: “‘Yuri on Ice?’”
”Oh, that one’s part of a special collection!” Niko explained, crouching down next to him to show off all the rest of the colorful spines. “Most are my favorites, but a lot are ones I picked out for Edwin. They’re all ranked in terms of explicitness.”
The Cat King appraised Edwin mischievously over his shoulder, getting more and more of a kick out of this new place with every passing moment. “And Edwin reads these books?”
“They’re recommendations,” Edwin replied tightly, squirming ever so slightly in place. “I am… building up to them.”
The Cat King handed the manga back to Niko. “You were the one to call me ‘your highness,’ correct?”
”Oh, please,” muttered Charles.
”All titles should be respected if they sound that cool,” Niko replied.
The Cat King took her hand in both of his. “Niko, yourpresence has made this adorable little hovel that much more tolerable.” Rising to his feet, he leaned over between Edwin and Crystal. “If anyone does anything to her, I want you to tell me who it is so I can have their skull crushed.”
Almost instantaneously, he brightened at the sight of another shiny object. “Is that a Roman dodecahedron?”
He darted for the antiques shelf, leaving the rest of the group to watch. “At least he’s got some priorities right,” noted Crystal.
The job, as Edwin explained to the circle around the desk, was going to be hunting down a dead wizard from the 1700’s who had taken on the care of their client- recently deceased eight year old Cole, who wanted the agency’s help in determining if he could truly come back to life and return to his family.
Niko raised her hand. “But I thought people could only come back from the dead as zombies.”
”True as that may be, we cannot disregard the words of our client,” Edwin responded, trying his best to focus on Charles’ encouraging nods on his right rather than the stare of the Cat on his left, who was watching Edwin as if he were doing something much more entertaining than reading off a job description. “And… and we cannot test one theory without first determining the strengths of another, since our primary objective is to bring our clients peace and satisfaction.” The Cat King’s mouth curved wider still, appreciative. “In. Whichever form, that may come.”
Niko definitely hadn’t missed this either. “Right,” she said slowly, flicking her eyes to the Cat King. “Of course.”
Sick of it, Charles decided to be the one to call him out. “You know, Cat, it would be really helpful if you actually did something for us instead of staring at my best friend the whole time.”
The Cat King didn’t appear the slightest bit ashamed. “I am- moral support is some of the best help a man can provide.”
Charles gritted his teeth, leaned to whisper in Edwin’s ear. “You sure about this, mate? Just say the word, and he’s shivved.”
”I’ve got it under control,” Edwin whispered back, eying the Cat King as he lazily spun an Old World globe. “You can trust that I will not have brought him here without him bringing a benefit to our agency.”
Charles followed his glance, brows furrowing warily as the Cat King waggled his fingers in a little wave. “He better,” he murmured. “Or else it’s the chopping block.”
Later on, while the others had gone out to gather intel from some of their wizard’s other clients, Edwin had stayed behind at the office to catch up on some 1700’s history reading. However, despite numerous efforts to engage him in other activities concerning the case, the Cat King still assumed his position of studying Edwin himself, seated on the floor at the left side of his desk, chin propped up on his wrist as he watched every page turn.
Finally, somewhere between a bit on black magic and the Shaker movement, Edwin couldn’t take it any longer. “Is there a reason that you’re just staring at me?” he snapped. “I know it looks quite modest in nature, but I’m actually trying very hard to get some work done.”
“Exactly.” Edwin sighed, rolling his eyes briefly to the ceiling; the Cat King took note of that too. “Do you know what it is that makes a person truly beautiful?”
”I’m sure you have a certain area of expertise on the subject.”
“When they’re in their element,” the Cat King answered instead, at last making Edwin look up from his book and at him. “Focused only on that one thing, reveling in it. Everyone looks beautiful when they’re doing what they love- no matter how mundane.” The Cat King propped up his head in his palm, as if he were gazing at him from across a mattress rather than a desk. “When there’s something like that this close to me, can you really blame a guy just for looking?”
And Edwin, of course, with his years of literary knowledge, had no idea what to say to that. Granting the Cat King yet another victory. “Stunned you, didn’t I?” Edwin shook his head, looking away. “Come on, I saw that look. Admit it, I still got it.”
”Still have that way of getting on my nerves, you do.”
”Oh, your poor nerves- okay, Jane Austen.”
”You know, I told Charles that I invited you here to help us solidify our information with a client- do you really want to imagine how he’ll be when he is proven right?”
The Cat King’s smirk twitched into a frown. “Well, that stings.”
”The truth hurts,” said Edwin, flipping to the next page. “Get used to it.” He somehow had.
The Cat King sat in that sentiment a little while longer, keeping his musings to himself. “Forgive me, this is just my inner empath speaking here,” he said, “but was that little bit an insult to me, or an insight into something else?”
”Back to the task at hand, Cat.”
”Okay, all right,” he seceded, leaning back against the wall. “Not trying to get killed by the curiosity.” For that time being, he kept it to himself, but the subject would come back around- it always did.
They met their client’s caretaker- very subtly named Horace Snapdragon -in a dingy dive-bar-turned magic shop, the five of them circled around an ornate poker table.
”It’s like he looked up whatnotto use to survive the apocalypse and stocked up,” murmured Crystal, poking at a ring of garlic bulbs.
”He does have a lot of nice bath salts though,” Niko informed them, taking the jars with her.
”At the very least, he’ll be able to scam a few wandering souls out of their last few possessions in poker,” the Cat King said, folding into the chair observing the space between the wizard and the detectives.
Their host accepted Charles and Edwin’s questions graciously, like he wasn’t being grilled but catching up with a few friends, perhaps some interested patrons. According to Snapdragon, it was his “pleasure and privilege” to teach the wonders of magic to his undead pupils so that they could experience this other side of the world with pleasure and ease.
”So none of your clients are interested in seeing their afterlife?” asked Edwin, keeping a suspicious hand on his manila file.
”Don’t some have families, friends they’d like to get back to on the other side?” added Charles.
”Many of them do, yes,” admitted Horace, a permanently middle aged man dressed in ancient looking robes over a tweed suit, as though it pained him. “It is why they come to me, because they are so tied to this mortal world. They do not know how to live without it, poor things.”
Edwin opened his file. ”We have a report from one of your clients, a Cole Forrester, that the two of you have been working to bring him back to life. Is this a service you offer to all of your clients?”
”Only the most desperate,” said Horace. “Children, such as yourselves, one will find, are most often the ones in need of drastic measures.”
Now, none of the detectives were too keen on being called a child, but they hadn’t stepped foot away from the edge since they walked in. “So,” Charles started skeptically, “you claim to offer a kind of rebirth service, but you haven’t yet been able to execute that yourself?”
Horace laughed. “Well, I never saidthat,”he said. “It simply is a delicate process, the rebirth scheme, and it takes time for everyone to complete the steps.”
Frowning, Edwin flipped through his folder. “But it says here in your resume that, during your time as a magic consultant for the coven of the Lunar Sisters, you were able to perform such rituals as exorcisms and revivals for the witches involved.”
“Alas, that was several centuries past,” said Horace mournfully. “The laws of black magic aren’t what they used to be, without the witches of old, and the afterlife is not as accepting of the coming and going of their souls.”
And that, for the Cat King, who hadn’t said a word until then, was the last straw. “Okay, hold my beer, I can’t watch this anymore,” he interrupted, pushing out of his seat to cross in front of Horace himself. “Hi. Cat King of Port Townsend, intern of the Dead Boy Detectives agency, how you doing.”
”Er… well…?”
”Cat,” hissed Edwin. “What are youdoing?”
”Your job,” the Cat King replied, turning back to Horace. “So, Snapdragon. You were an undercover occultist in the thriving 1700’s, working as a consultant for the Lunar Sisters coven until your untimely demise from yellow fever, is that correct?”
”Oop,” Niko chirped.
”I.” Horace blinked in surprise. “Why, yes. I was.”
”Mmhm. And that mainly consisted of agricultural aid, ritualistic sacrifice, summoning spells and equinox events, right?”
Charles leaned in next to a stupefied Edwin. “Are we to believe he actually…”
”Paid attention?” Edwin finished, scarcely believing it himself. “I suppose so.”
”That is correct, yes,” answered Horace.
“Alrighty then.” The Cat King carried on his spiel. “With their humble beginning in 1743, you claim to have worked with these witches, supporting them against defamation in trial and depletion of resources until the capture and execution of leaders Liliana Betts and Pandora Smythe in 1816, is that correct?”
”Where is he going with this?” murmured Crystal.
”Until my dying day that same year, yes,” said Horace. “I made sure my sisters got away from persecution safe and sound.”
The Cat King gave a tight-lipped smile. “Then I hate to break it to you, bud, but I’m pretty sure the party went on without you.” Horace’s face faltered. “Yeah, went on seven more years in unpersecuted secret, in a small river town, until that unfortunate tavern incident between replacements Rose and Sylvia, when one accused the other of cursing her livestock and further acts of envy, and that, let me tell you, did not do well for the rest of the friend group, which eventually had a hard fallout in ‘24. Remember that?”
”I- wha-“ Horace blustered, opening and closing his mouth like a gasping fish. “I- I do, it just- must have slipped my mind, me being dead and all, and for so long.”
The Cat King sniffed distastefully. “No, you don’t,” he said. “But you wanna know howIknow that? I won’t get into any specifics on the life of a familiar- kinda like being an altar boy, except less creepy priest stuff and more witch gossip -but it’s the kinda stuff you look back and laugh on when you live a couple extra centuries, which I have.” He leaned in, slit pupils menacingly sharp. “And I don’t remember any of them ever mentioning some sad sack by the stage name of Horace Snapdragon.”
Horace sat there, pale as paper as the Cat King drew back. “In fact,” he said, drawing a picture from the folds of his leather coat. “There weren’t any records of any names or appearances matching that profile except this one in 1941, courtesy of a lovely little hospice just around the corner- even they agreed that Snelling would’ve been more convincing than Snapdragon.”
Facing the likeness of his own image, Horace didn’t have anything to say in response. The Cat King lounged back in his seat. “So cut the bullsh*t, talk, and actually say something real this time.”
Just out of the range of his periphery, Niko very quietly clicked Edwin’s hanging jaw shut.
Despite the Cat King’s lack of warning, it turned out Horace was an old former magician who had died trying to make a living off street entertainment in the Great Depression. He had taken to trying to run a con powerful enough to get to the ears of Death, but with no luck. And, as far as the agency was concerned, he never would.
”The Night Nurse is gonna have a field day with that scumbag,” Charles announced as the group walked out of the dive. “Oi, Whiskers- how’d you know he was a fake?”
“You live as long as I have, you can smell a phony anywhere,” the Cat King replied. “I heard those witches talk sh*t on everyone- literally, even children -and they never associated with men. It was kind of a thing.”
Charles gave a low whistle. “I’ll be damned. You actually did something… not wrong. For a change.”
“Not wrong at all, I have to admit,” agreed Crystal grudgingly. The two of them seemed the same amount of unenthusiastic to say so.
But even as they pushed ahead, the Cat King was left with Niko clapping him on. “Okay, positive reinforcement.”
”Right? I think that’s the first genuine thing I’ve ever heard out of either of them.”
“That was…” At the sound of Edwin’s voice behind him, the Cat King perked up. “Very impressive. Well done.”
The Cat King grinned, all feline charisma and brimming pride. “Stick a little closer- I can tell you all about it.”
However, telling the news to young Cole Forrester was plenty different than receiving the news from the con himself- the detectives were trying their hardest to comfort the poor, blubbering kid, but even invisibility and passing through walls were nothing compared to the reality he’d known his whole life.
”What’ll I do with any of that?” sobbed Cole, alone in the seat before Edwin’s desk, Crystal and Charles kneeling beside him. “All my family, my friends are alive- what am I supposed to do wandering around without them?”
”The afterlife is also an acceptable route,” Edwin offered. “We do have resources and- well,aconnection that will accommodate you.”
”But how will I know what comes fromthat?”asked Cole. “You guys said there’s no way of knowing what comes out of that. What if I go there and nobody’s there for me? What if I go there and I’m alone for the rest of forever?”
”No one’s ever really alone,” Niko said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Even if they’re someone you lost, you could see them again. Did you have anyone like that?”
Cole paused to think. “I mean… I did have my grandmother, and my cousin Francesca. And my cat Lucky- I had him since I was a baby, before he got hit by a car.”
”Hm.” Everyone turned to the Cat King, who, until then, had observed in silence. “I think we might have reached my area of expertise.”
He knelt down in front of Edwin’s desk as Cole wiped his tears. “Fun fact about the afterlife, which not many know, is that both animals and humans can go to the same afterlife, if they have a strong enough connection. If you and Lucky were close like you said, you’ll probably be able to see your old pal and your family.”
Cole’s surprise snuffled the remains of his tears. “How do you know that?”
”Don’t believe the eyes? Believe the words.” The Cat King shrugged. “The only difference between the afterlife and the life you know is the after part. It’s not the end, just another beginning. Think of it like a second life, only with all the good stuff.”
No one in the room had thought emotional reassurance was one of the Cat King’s many spells, but if he had expected the hug that Cole Forrester sprang into his arms, it certainly didn’t show in his own shock.
”Thank you!” Cole gushed. “I’m gonna get to see my friend again!”
It was almost laughable, watching the Cat King pat his back exactly twice, trying to comprehend the gratitude. “Yeah, ‘course, sure,” he said uncertainly. “Thoughts. Prayers.” A beat where Cole did not let go. “Alright, okay, get off.” The Cat King lifted Cole up by the scruff of his shirt and set him a safe distance away. “Beat it. Death’s gonna be at the door any minute. Tell Lucky you’re sorry to have kept him waiting.”
Beaming, Cole practically raced out of the room. “Thank you, detectives!” He skipped off to the glowing blue light to the right of the corridor and vanished.
”Well, wasn’t that sweet,” Crystal teased. “Didn’t think you were the kind to be good with kids.”
The Cat King shuddered. “Oh, I’m not. Can’t stand the things- they keep trying to take my citizens home off the streets. Just- thought he needed an extra nudge out the door. Save you guys the time.”
Just as Edwin was about to throw his own piece out there, not as unkind as he thought he’d be, the Cat King’s focus instead found the door. “Oh, thank God, he left it open. Well, it's been real. Send me my paycheck later, you know the address.”
A puff of purple fire, and a scruffy black cat took the place of his human form, zipping out the open door and leaving the detectives still astounded.
”I stand corrected, Edwin,” Charles declared. “That cat did actually help us today.”
Somewhere in the air, Edwin heard himself agree. But in his mind, he realized that he wasn’t used to being the one left in the lurch; this time instead of him, it was the Cat King leaving first, taking the potential with him.
Notes:
Company - Justin Bieber
Chapter 4: let them know they're on your mind
Summary:
The aftermath of the job from the last chapter, Edwin goes to find the Cat King to finish the chat they didn’t get to have earlier.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
That night, after the rest of the agency had retired from a job well jobbed, Edwin went out to the streets, asking every cat if they’d seen any king wandering around, or at least a gray cat with unusually bright eyes. It was a mere hunch that he was even still in London, but if he managed to get to the agency building in under fifteen minutes and knew where all the good kebab stands were, he had to be close.
At last, Edwin found him on a stone bridge above Grand Union Canal, peering over at the water. Sidling up to him, he decided not to announce his arrival; the Cat King knew when he was around. “I didn’t get to thank you today for your work.”
”Didn’t figure much needed to be said,” the Cat King replied, not looking up. “How’d Charles react at getting proved wrong?”
Edwin scoffed, leaning on the stone beside him. “He admitted a humble defeat- he’s not quite so arrogant as you think.” The Cat King hummed in noncommittal response. “I know it was nothing out of a day in the life of forever, but still. I am grateful.”
The Cat King shook his head. “It wasn’t nothing,” he murmured. The usual vibrance in his regal energy was muted; perhaps the midnight hour did that to a man. The glint in his eyes when he looked at Edwin felt like candlelight rather than that from the whole sun, surprisingly mellow. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come back for you?”
For you. Not anyone else. “The others had their doubts,” Edwin admitted. “Charles and Crystal, mainly, though Niko had her faith.” The Cat King sported a small smile at that. “But I believed you would.”
"Is this the feeling of you finally warming up to me? I must say, I've beensochilly, as of late."
"Keep your paws to yourself," Edwin reminded him. The irritation he would have laced with it before had worn off, replaced with the somewhat unsteady knowledge that he would. "Are you saying you've had no new toys?"
Lightly, the Cat King scoffed, moonlight grazing the five o' clock shadow on his jaw. His hair was longer than it had been when they'd last met, brushing at the beginning of his spine. "I'm not in the mood to play much these days," he said breezily. "Ever since you and the brat pack left town, feels like all the action packed up and left with you."
"Ah, right, the monsters," sighed Edwin. "You really could have found a way to announce your return that wasn't so utterly disheartening."
"And missed an opportunity to make another sexy entrance? I've always provided you that much before." Edwin rolled his eyes, shaking his head up at the stars. "Hey, you thought it was yourself, don't lie to me."
"A lack of action and stimulation," Edwin replied instead, dodging the allegation. "Is that why you spared a trip to London?"
The Cat King sighed. "And for that memorable candor," he said. "I just sawthat you guys were mostly successful in passing the time with it, thought what the hell, why not do it myself?”
"Being a detective isn't something you can just up and pursue one day! It requires time, work, dedication!"
"Hey, I didn't do too bad today! Read that lying wizard for his filth in five seconds flat. Colored youimpressed,"he emphasized the last word. "I'll be keeping that feather in my cap for a very long time."
"So, itwasunexpected," Edwin revised, much to the Cat King's delight. "I hadn't expected you to take much of an interest in our mysteries."
"Well, perhaps I'm not just a pretty face," the Cat King replied, daring Edwin to disagree (which neither would). "Plus, well, turns out solving a mystery is less boring than I thought it would be.”
"Rarely is it ever." And, Edwin could admit, though he had proved a bit of a distraction in the beginning, the Cat King had saved young Cole from a fate of eternal servitude. "You were quite the wild card, but it was more than needed."
"I can get wild as you need me to be," the Cat Kingribbed, voice low with the challenge. "Are you finally admitting that you missed me?”
He just will not rest, will he? "I know London is quite different from Port Townsend, what with one beholding over twenty-five native species of trees, and the other more architecture, although, considering your previous distaste, I don't think you minded the change in scenery?"
"Oh, don't get me started,"said the Cat King with disgust. "I live by the sea for a reason- if I fall, the water won't cover me in- in leaves,andtwigs, and dirt." He punctuated every example with a gesture. "That, I was fine to go without."
Edwin could almost feel himself smiling at the display; he tamped it down before the other could notice. "And your subjects?"
"Well, usually I can count on them to fend for themselves- scrappy little fighters, all of 'em, more than able to take care of themselves." The clouds passed over the moon, painting a veil of gray over the Cat King's profile, toning his mood down to an unusually somber tone. "But, when I die in a certain place, they..." Edwin could have imagined it, but he swore to have saw the Cat King wince. "It hits them hard."
Busy kingdom.Not in the mood to play.Of course that was what he'd meant. Edwin didn't know what to do with such an open address, however. "I'm sorry," he said, rather meekly. “I’d heard- from Niko and Crystal, meant to extend my condolences, but-“
”Hey- don’t start with that. You got nothing to apologize for, nothing to owe me.” The Cat King let the wind carry their silence, for once weighing his words before they became sound. “From what I could gather, you were dealing with your own nightmare.”
For a moment, Edwin stood stunned; he hadn’t known the Cat King knew about hell.Though I suppose he’d gotten the message when his bracelet was returned to him.“It was, indeed, that,” he replied quietly, wobbling on the tightrope of his own voice.
They’d only approached the topics of their traumas, barely scratching the surface, but neither was willing or able to speak of it any further; perhaps another similarity they shared. “Cat King?”
”Hm.”
”Do you remember, in the forest, when you’d told me about… about Monty, luring us into a trap of Esther’s…” Edwin was already regretting his question; he’d just wanted to change the subject, but the first thing that had come to mind was something he never imagined he’d actually say. “God- never mind, it’s actually ridiculous-“
”Oh, no, you can’t back out now,” the Cat King rounded on him. “Yes, I remember when you tore my fragile, ancient heart in two. What about it?”
Edwin hadn’t expected that last part; he couldn’t tell whether or not if he was joking. But, with as much knowledge he’d garnered of the Cat King, he figured that bringing up the subject would only lead to the discord he was trying to avoid.Oh, blast it all- just get it out and be done with it. “Why did you kiss Monty?”
Even the crickets at their feet didn’t know how to chirp at that. “You mean beforeI saved your life?” asked the Cat King, completely deadpan.
How does this being this intelligent never save me from also being an idiot? “Well, you didn’t seem to particularly like him very much, considering he was with… well, me, and the reason why.”
”How about you tell me how long exactlyhave you been thinking about the fact that I kissed someone else?”
”Just answer the question.” If Edwin answered that one, he would be far too humiliated to say anything else.
The Cat King thought for a moment, sucked his tongue. “Well, I wanted to punctuate the word, for one thing, didn’t want you getting bored of me mid-monologue.” Edwin scoffed; that much he figured. “And I wanted to know what it would have been to kiss you. ”
When Edwin peeked over his shoulder, he found the Cat King looking into the river instead of at him. “You’re a lot more of a heartbreaker than you realize.”
The pause stretched, carried out with the flowing water below. It had been hard enough for Edwin to accept that he could feel the kind of way for a man that he’d always been afraid of- to accept that a man could feel that way for him was another task entirely. The weight of his words settled over his shoulders like an anvil, made him think of Monty in the forest, Simon in the library, the immortal beside him looking out over the ripples of darkness. “Evidently.”
To his silence, Edwin didn’t know if apologizing was the correct response; not when the Cat King would more likely laugh it off, and it had been so long after the wound had been cut. But he edged an inch closer to the Cat King’s side, touched the joints of their elbows together without taking his eyes off the water.
Very faintly, Edwin could see the reflection of the Cat King tilting his head and looking back at him, but he didn’t utter another flirty jab, didn’t reach out to make a move. They simply took the touch as it was, remained there listening to the whispering waves below.
Notes:
let them know they're on your mind - Cavetown
Chapter 5: Boyfriend
Summary:
The next job that the Cat King helps out on, he’s a little less helpful (shocker, I know). But it gives him and Edwin more time to chat about a certain hellish confession.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The next job that the Cat King joined them on occurred a week later, on the insistence of Niko, who’d assigned written letters to every stray cat lingering near the agency (there were quite a lot, as of late) for them to deliver to Port Townsend. Regardless of how they’d made their way to him, the king did not disappoint, promising that he’d make his way out as soon as possible- both for herandEdwin’s recommendation collection.
Now, surely it had been on account of some information mixup, but the minute the Cat King arrived to their job location, Niko forgot immediately about her promise and switched sides to join Charles and Crystal on the field, leaving Edwin and the king himself alone.
Which was how Edwin ended up crouched upon a grassy hill in the middle of the afternoon with no one but the Cat King, while the rest of the agency was trying to poach a vengeful monk from the walls of Hever Castle.
While Edwin was piecing together the sniper rifle from its case, the Cat King was lying out on the grass, trying out a variety of different poses to attract his eyes- arms folded behind his head, legs crossed so his skirt rode up his knee, something vaguely Flashdance -before he gave up, flopping on the grass.
”Comeon,pay attention to me, I’m bored.”
”Maybe you wouldn’t be, if you actually focused on the task at hand,” replied Edwin. He had succeeded for about five minutes solid in not letting his eyes slip to the exceedingly noisy right, and was very proud of himself for it.
”What task, birdwatching? I do that every Tuesday.”
”It’s called surveillance duty,” Edwin corrected; then, in a double take: “You bird watch?”
”Some of the newer cats don’t feel safe hunting on their own, sometimes I take them out to the forest to show them they have nothing to worry about.” He nodded at Edwin. “Do you just call it that to make it sound more important?”
”You know, if you’resounsatisfied as you say, then maybe you should join the others in the castle.”
”And miss out on this quality time together? I would never.” The Cat King shifted on the grass, sat himself up. “I picked out this outfit specifically for our outing.”
Breaking his streak, Edwin looked at last. The Cat King was leaned against the trunk of a birch tree, one arm balanced over his bent knee, holding the hem of his black leather skirt in place. The sleeveless white turtleneck he had on contrasted rather well with his tanned, muscular arms, which the heat of the London summer had brought out on display. Even with as impertinent as he always proved himself to be, the Cat King was an undeniable thing of beauty.
”You wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on all this, would you?”
Blinking back to his senses, Edwin turned his attention back to the tool he was putting together. “Niko did give you time to prepare a decent enough wardrobe,” he said. “You could have selected something more… work appropriate.”
”What’re you gonna do about it?” The Cat King grinned, scooting closer. “Punish me?”
Of course, the mention of the word brought back a flash of their first meeting- the rendezvous to the Cat King’s chambers, the tantalizing cadence of slow movements towards Edwin, trapping him in his gaze and intimacy, teasing him just close enough to slip on the bracelet which stayed him and the Dead Boy Detectives agency in Port Townsend for the week that followed. Over and over, in the nights where Crystal was asleep and Charles was pacing the night away, the words whispered in Edwin’s ear raced through his mind: ”You fascinate me; I am fascinated by you.”
Edwin had no clue what could have possibly driven Niko to plot such a nefarious scheme that would inevitably trap him and the Cat King in yet another charged encounter.But if I’m going to be here, I might as well try a different approach.
He raised his hands, slowly began, one finger at a time, to tug off his glove. “Would you happen to recall,” Edwin started, drawing the leather off his skin, folding it neatly to slide into his pocket before continuing the process with the second. “What occurred on the night we first met?”
The Cat King’s eyes were no longer reading his face; they had dropped to his hands, which he’d glimpsed holding ancient books and curling around mystic devices, now deliberately disarming themselves to reveal the slender, dexterous fingers underneath, pale from so rarely having seen the sun. “I wouldn’t soon forget.”
Edwin took hold of the rifle he’d been piecing together, took his time in checking the cartridge, twisting the scope, stretching out the performance on every detail. “I’d turned you down in favor of counting all the cats in your domain, for I wasn’t quite… comfortable, in sharing myself with someone I did not know so well.”
His sole audience watched almost hungrily as he delicately trailed his fingers down the barrel, suppressor now attached. It may or may not have been intentional. Edwin would neither deny nor confirm. But the Cat King was definitely not thinking up any replies. “And now?”
Edwin curled a finger around the trigger and clicked off the safety. “Now, I consider the things that I would be willing to do if it meant I would experience youquiet.”
He delivered that last part with a glare into the Cat King’s widened eyes, startling out of him a flabbergasted laugh.
”Goddamn,”he marveled. “I’m really getting to like this new you.” Edwin brought his eye to the scope, seemingly ignorant of his wonder. “You’re clearer. Bolder now.” The Cat King lounged on his side, smiling like it was his only job just to admire the view. “It’s a good look on you.”
“It does indeed change a man, when he comes back from the torturing of youth-hungry witch,” replied Edwin. “Call it a souvenir from your town.”
Once the rest of the team came running out of the castle with the code word, Edwin’s main objective would be nailing down the evil spirit with a holy bullet they’d gotten from a smith in heaven- Charles and Crystal had come up with the idea watching Supernatural. But with no spot of them in sight, the Cat King just kept talking.
”… and I’d just be thinking, if your first kiss was with a twinkified crow-“
”I really do not appreciate that description.”
” -then what had you been doing for the last thirty-nine years you’d been a ghost on the mortal realm?”
“Exactly what I’d beentryingto do uninterrupted in the time that you had me racing around Port Townsend,” Edwin replied, tempted to fire at one of the windows just to get the others to hurry up. “Finishing business, righting wrongs.”
”I swear, you guys should make that your catch phrase. Really something.” Edwin rolled his eyes; it might have made the Cat King smile even wider. “Right. Running around the UK, bringing peace to ghosts everywhere with your special best friend. Nothing more platonic than that.”
Despite himself, Edwin bristled. “Please tell me you are not taking us down that road again.”
”Oh, I’m not taking you anywhere- I just know you’ll usually come with.” The Cat King drummed his fingers on the overturned log Edwin was using as a set for his rifle, similar to that of a cat’s flicking tail. “Howarethings going between you and Charles? If you’re any more assertive than you are with me, I’d say you finally got that just-friends tension out of the way.”
”I’ve told you before, it isn’t like that between us.”
”And I’ve told you, there’s no need to lie to me.” Though the king’s teeth weren’t showing in his smile anymore, he didn’t seem dropping the topic. “He went to hell for you. I saw how you looked at him through my own eyes. Not much to hide.”
Perhaps the Cat King didn’t mean to hurt Edwin, didn’t mean to rub salt in the closing wound, but the reminder of his own emotions brought Edwin away from his objective.
”It isn’t like that,” he repeated, slowly, softly to his face. “We are just friends.” Edwin lowered his eyes to the ground. “I received confirmation of such myself.”
At first, the Cat King didn’t seem to get it. His laughter came in a few unsteady puffs, treating the information as a joke until he realized Edwin wasn’t laughing back. “Wait,” he started, doubling back. “Wait, what?”
Edwin swallowed hard. It had been almost over two months since the fact had been faced; he’d told Niko on the roof of the Tongue and Tail, and later Crystal in the room they’d set up for her next door to the agency, but the Cat King made the bruise feel freshly received all over again.
”Upon my escape from hell,” Edwin started faintly, “Charles and I were just steps from the door, with the monster of my punishment chasing after us, and, given I did not know if I’d be lucky to make it out a second time, I broke down there. Told him of my feelings. That I loved him.”
The Cat King’s usual merriment had slipped off the cliff of his face, replaced with an uneasy disbelief. “What the hell did he say?”
”That…” Edwin swallowed, forced the rusty cogs of his voice to operate. “That he did not feel the same way.” The Cat King scoffed, roughly, falling back against the birch tree. “He- he was kind about it-“
”Oh, he was kind about it, sure,” he parroted derisively, settling on anger. “What kind of bullsh*t is that?”
“It was nothing of the sort! He did not make me feel any less cared for, did not shame me for my feelings.” Edwin pivoted away, but didn’t bring himself back to the scope. “He made it clear he was my friend, always would be, just… that part of his heart… he would not be able to share with me.”
”How very sweet of him,” the Cat King mocked, still stuck on the disbelief part of things. “You go through the sequel of the most traumatic experience of your life, pour out your heart to the guy, and that’s how you’re paid back.”
Edwin’s own irritance flashed. “Now, I know you don’t think the highest of him,” he said to the Cat King, currently fuming against his tree. “But Charles did not owe me anything. He had already risked his life for me and accompanied me through his afterlife of his own choice- the best partner I could have asked for, and he has told me the same.”
Edwin felt the skin of his left wrist itch- the place where the Cat King’s bracelet had been, reached for it absently. “Feelings are not a form of currency,” he said, turning away. “We might tolerate them better, but they would be of far less value.”
Tree branches bristled above their heads, brushing together in gossip of what they’d just heard. The Cat King exhaled a tiny breath through his nose, sobering up a little bit more.
”I’m sorry,” he said; the rarity of the words from his mouth brought Edwin’s head up. “That things didn’t go the way that you wanted. I honestly thought they would.”
“I’ve had time to recuperate.” Even with all his advances, he still wished me such luck? “I honestly don’t know what I would have done if they had,” Edwin admitted. “Though I do think we were brought closer because of it.” The Cat King seemed to laugh off the idea, though the twitch of his mouth seemed more sincere than wry. “Did you… know I was in love with Charles?”
”A mole would’ve known you were in love with Charles,” the Cat King told Edwin dryly, much to his embarrassment. “Even if he didn’t, and even if you didn’t- trust me, I could smell the repression a mile away.”
”But you… still imagined he would return my feelings.”
”Hey, just because you and I had our little trysts, didn’t mean I was blind to the truth in front of me.” Edwin cleared his throat; he did not need to be reminded of any of those. “Just figured I could do my part on opening you up to the possibility.”
He had, done that much, Edwin could acknowledge, in perhaps the rudest way imaginable. “Well, thank you, I suppose, for the help.”
The Cat King gave a mild salute:happy to help.“Okay, but like, seriously, the guy rejected you in Limbo?Who does that?”
”Mind you, I did not give him much of a choice to do otherwise.”
The Cat King chuckled, like he’d expected as much. “It’s not even that that stumps me. It’s how he could’ve been such an idiot to turn a dork like you down.”
Edwin felt a puff of laughter escape himself; never had he thought he would laugh in mentioning the events of hell, but the Cat King had told him he worked in mysterious ways. “Hopefully, you’ll be able to tone down your distaste for my sake.”
It was a somewhat strange expression, the way the Cat King was looking at him now. A similar one to that which he’d adopted upon Edwin telling him there were one-hundred-forty-seven cats in Port Townsend, with the wilderness in his eyes dimming to something temperate, just in watching Edwin be.
But, catty as ever, the look vanished for a haughty sniff of the trees around them. “Well, his loss,” said the Cat King. “Hope he’s smart enough to know he’s lucky to have you still around.”
Back to the usual banter, I see. “ He’s my best friend- I would never leave him.”
“Oh, I know.”
Edwin whipped around one last time to find that mysterious look still not quite gone.
“Even through a broken heart, you’d still have the good in you to bounce back from it.”
And of course, there was that other thing about the Cat King: his impertinence, his beauty, and the way he had of saying the most shattering, genuine things that Edwin had no idea how to reply to.
The explosion in the background jarred both their focuses back to the castle. Crystal and Niko were running out the door with Charles scrambling after them, yelling,“Sunday mass! Sunday mass!”
The Cat King nodded to Edwin. “That for you?”
The spirit was already gaining; Edwin would have to move downhill to get a good shot. “Blast,” he seethed, folding up the bipod and launching himself over the log, at which the Cat King merely rolled his eyes, stretched, and poofed into his cat form, racing happily after.
Notes:
Boyfriend - Dove Cameron
Chapter 6: NDA
Summary:
That’s right, the Cat King’s been taking the time out of his very busy schedule to go on even more jobs with the detectives, but this time, it kind of bites him in the ass. What would Edwin be if he didn’t help patch him up?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The job of the day: the Dead Boy Detectives had been tasked with booting a chimera out of the Tate Britain.
The representative ghost- really, in a place like a museum, it couldn't have just one haunter -protecting a certain Andy Warhol piece claiming it liked to terrorize the children and eating the janitors, also spitting venom on the Joseph Mallord William Turner sketches ("Metal," Crystal and the Cat King unisoned dryly).
In addition, the royal of Port Townsend decided to take Edwin's advice in being more active on the field, and volunteered to join them in slaying the beast.
Smash cut to the actual job itself, however:
A blast of fire knocked the gang into the next aisle, skidding Breakfast-Club-style on the polished floors before taking off.
“Is this what it’s like every day with you guys?” screeched the Cat King.
“Yeah, pretty much!” Niko replied.
“Look at you, finally getting the hang of things!" teased Charles. "Guess there’s a spot of brain in you after all, Whiskers!”
The chimera's lion head roared menacingly after them. "Jesus f*cking Christ," the king cursed, poofing into his cat form to run ahead.
They intercepted the monster in one of the 1700's through 1800's painting rooms, depicting scenes of rebels clashing through wars. Niko, to get the thing’s attention, improvised brilliantly by smashing a painting over the goat's head, which gave Crystal enough time to stun all three heads shoving her palms to the floor, allowing Charles to land the killing blow and Edwin combining Greek fire with the Cat King's purple flames to vanquish it from existence.
"Alright, Crys, that's enough," said Charles, helping steady the young psychic to her feet. "Alright, everybody, great work today! Job well- Whiskers?"
Immediately, their eyes reverted to the Cat King collapsed sideways against the bench behind Edwin; the tawny overcoat he'd been wearing was slashed through at the shoulder with bloody claw marks.
"Son of an actual bitch..."
With Crystal, Charles, and Niko off to inform the ghosts that the chimera had been slain, the task was left to Edwin to take the Cat King back to the agency for healing.
”How did this even happen?” asked Edwin to the dark gray cat in his arms- the Cat King had graciously retained enough energy to revert to his cat form (that, or perhaps he’d wanted the experience of being carried). “Last I saw of you, you seemed just fine.”
Edwin set him on the ground to close the door and hang his coat on the rack, turned around to see a human-form Cat King gripping the side of the bookcase. “Happened when Niko shoved that painting into the chimera’s face- goat horns were getting too close, so I pushed her out of the way and got the lion’s attention too.” He groaned. “No f*cking solidarity. Bastard.”
”Unfortunately, I can confirm that emotional attachments get no easier to harbor even with time,” said Edwin, in lieu of perhaps ordinary comfort. “Get to the desk, I’ll treat you there. Try not to drip on anything.”
He left to the storage closet to go find the first aid kit he and Charles had added in when Niko and Crystal moved in. It wasn’t your typical first aid kit, of course- rather a briefcase Charles had painted a red cross on. Edwin had redesigned it to hold several potions and tinctures which specialized in healing the unordinary, such as chimera claw wounds.
Edwin walked back out, stepping mindlessly over the tawny coat on the floor. “Now, I’m not sure how you usually deal with these kinds of injuries, but I’m sure we… can…”
The Cat King crumpled his ruined shirt into a ball and tossed it carelessly on the ground, meeting his eyes across the room. “Oh, I bet whatever you got in there’s fine. Just a couple stitches, that’s all it’ll take.”
Edwin opened his mouth- the words were there, but his mind was lost in the planes and valleys of skin like painted gold. The ridges of the Cat King’s abdomen, sun glancing over the athletic swells of his arms and shoulders like it adored him, wanted to light him up from the outside. Perhaps this is what Guillame Geefs tried to capture in his sculpture of Le genié du mal,he thought absently. A Grecian athlete from the days of old. The muse that inspired Heracles. Achilles in his youth.
The Cat King’s smirk ruined any heroic image he could have had. “I can keep going, if you want,” he offered. “Turn this into a full body examination.”
Without Niko around to shut his stupid mouth, Edwin had to close it for himself, recompose right there on the spot. “No need,” he answered, keeping his tone clipped. “This will suffice.”
Edwin brought the kit to his desk, which the Cat King took as the unspoken go-ahead to sit down on top of it, cheerfully kicking his legs back and forth like he was in no pain at all. “Dramatic change in behavior,” Edwin noted. “How would you rate your pain as of now?”
”Maybe I don’t need help.” The Cat King tried for a smile. “Maybe your presence alone is what’s healing me.”
”No, that’s most likely the poison setting in.” Edwin plucked a vial of milky white liquid from the briefcase, poured a few drops on a handkerchief. “Brace yourself- this will sting a bit.”
”Trust me, babe, I can take a-“ The Cat King actually squeaked, pupils dilating knife-thin, mouth zipping tightly shut. The sound he made was vaguely similar to that of a boiling tea kettle. “What the-“
”My apologies, that was a bit of a stiff warning.”
” -flyingf*ckingf*ckwas that?!” His voice had jumped a few octaves higher than normal.
“Water from the River Lethe,” replied Edwin. “Using it on a regular mortal would wipe their memory, but supernatural beings like you and I can use it to alleviate our bodies of the pain of even the worst injuries, help it repair faster. However, I did neglect to mention how painful it was.”
"Is this the kinda thing you're into? Hurting? I guess it'd explain a lot, which, damn, but okay."
"Perhaps save your words for breath?"
The Cat King grumbled petulantly. ”Memory being the thing that hurts,” he groused. “f*ckin’ ironic, if you ask me.”
Hm. Edwin had never thought of it like that. “Quite.” He watched the Lethe smoke and bubble in the wounds where he’d applied it, bridging skin together. The Cat King himself was watching, and even he didn’t seem affected. “Are you ready for the stitches now?”
The king’s citrine eyes connected wryly with Edwin's. “I wouldn’t want to be in the hands of anyone else.”
Now, despite Edwin having come great leaps and bounds in accepting himself over the past couple months, never once had he thought he would have a shirtless man perched on his desk- that man being the Cat King was even more unexpected. It was much more of a job than the one Edwin had done today, that was for sure. Forcing himself to look at the one imperfect place of the body beside his, only anywhere else if the Cat King's hand flinched on the desk at the needle going through, or the scar on his lip twitched.
"Tighter," he gritted in a tone deeper than dark, nearly making Edwin drop the sewing needle. "Don't care about it hurting- sh*t can still get infected no matter how many lives you have."
"R-Right, of course."
It was the only thing adjacent to a complaint that the Cat King made. Throughout the ordeal, he continued staring ahead with a practiced hunter's focus, ignoring the pain. This is most likely one of the hundreds of scars he's received, Edwin realized. Perhaps the pain was new with every life he moved on to, and still he endured.
When the last stitch had gone through, he could see the relief in the release of the Cat King's jaw, watching him touch over Edwin's handiwork, gingerly test out the movement. "Even with your unique capabilities, it would be wise of you not to put yourself through any strenuous activity," Edwin advised, eyes drifting despite himself to the muscular mural of his back, the dark marks lined along the spine. "Your- on your back," he noted, edging backwards for a better look. "Are those injuries?"
"Hm?" Abruptly, the Cat King's voice cut off, slipped back up stammering. "Oh- those are-"
"... Oh."
The tattoos started at the nape of his neck, brushed softly by the small bronze curls untouched by the product sweeping it back, a coarse rope making a pentagram looped into a noose. At the crux of his shoulder blades, a corner building catching fire, a rainbow screaming through the windows. In the space just below, an iron cane stabbed through the lens of a magnifying glass. Each was ornately, beautifully drawn.
Edwin glanced at the Cat King; for once, turned down towards his knees, his face was unreadable. "What are these?"
"Mementos," he answered, speaking as quietly as possible. "Reminders of the lives I lived before, how I met their ends."
Edwin remembered a group of boys in his old private school, ones who considered themselves rebels for mouthing off to their teachers and slacking in their work. They got suspended halfway through the semester for sneaking a tattoo pen onto school grounds and drawing on each other- skulls and crossbones, the names of their girlfriends in an arrowheart, trivialities like that. But these. "They're lovely."
The Cat King didn't have a smart reply to that; he ducked his chin a little deeper. "The dying part always sucks, but they’re good for looking back on things, remembering that in the end, it was worth it."
Edwin was brimming with questions:Do you lose your previous injuries, but keep these? Did you get someone from Port Townsend to do these? Aren't you afraid of the pen tapping the wrong nerve in your spine and rendering you immobile?But the moment was too hushed- he never stared for this long, and the Cat King never, ever remained this still. This was something Edwin wasn't supposed to see. A secret part.It hadn't occurred to him the Cat King believed in hiding anything.
"Thanks for the patch job," the king said, planting his palms on the desk.
"Wait." Before he could stop himself, Edwin,out of courage fueled by curiosity, touched his index to the star in the center of the noose. The Cat King stilled immediately. "May I know about them? Where they came from?"
Slowly,hesitantly,the Cat King glanced over his shoulder to capture Edwin's expression; he could only wonder what he saw. Maybe he'd laugh him off. Maybe he'd poof into a cat and run all the way back to Port Townsend.Maybe this is the day he'll finally tell me no.
But the Cat King's arms relaxed, swallowed to wet a dry tongue. "The one you're touching," he started, nodding to Edwin's wrist. "1746- hanged ‘cause of accusations of witchcraft."
Christ. Edwin could almost feel his own throat close himself; perhaps that was the reason the Cat King turned back around. "That must have been horrible."
"f*ck yeah, it was. Not even a full half century after I was granted my nine lives, I blew my first one," he chuckled; another game to ease the pain. "Still, the others got out okay."
The others. He'd been part of something, before he was a ruler.Emboldened by knowledge, Edwin dragged his finger down to the second, listening to the tiny inhale it drew. "This one?"
"UpStairs Lounge attack, 1973. Fire came and got me, right at the end of Pride Month." The tug of a smirk pulled at the corner of mouth. "I don't know if I told you this, but you don’t need an excuse to put your hands on me."
"Dream about it." A scoff, and the Cat King switched his focus on the door. Just as he reached the third, Edwin's eye caught on the initials carved into the handle of the magnifying glass. "And those letters?" He pointed to them, E.P. carved in cursive. "On the magnifying glass, I mean."
To this, the Cat King didn’t respond; briefly, Edwin wondered if he'd overstepped. It had only been a few months since his third death, he wouldn't blame him for the wounds still being fresh.
But his voice came out tender, delicate, like a moth's wing.
“For such a devout reader, I’d think you’d recognize the initials of your own name," replied the Cat King, looking straight through the floorboards as he whispered, low and significant, like it meant something, "Edwin Paine.”
And Edwin, who, for the longest time, thought himself a victim of the Cat King's attention, a mere toy to flick around whenever he felt like it, was floored. He hadn't thought about it like that, but it was true, wasn't it? The Cat King died for him. For his sins.
“I didn’t…” God. Edwin couldn’t even speak; his mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, his head even emptier. “I never knew that was how it had happened.”
The Cat King shrugged, expression dim even in the sunlight. “Some things, even beings like me prefer to keep under the skin.”
Edwin couldn't file that information away. He couldn't do anything but look at it where it was, right in front of him, in lacy black ink that had long since been scorched into skin, a third reason why. He didn't know how to talk about it, how to bring it up without dragging into it everything that had happened. What would he even say? Thank you? I understand? There just weren't the words for this.
But maybe I don't need the words. Just the feeling.
Rather than talk about it, Edwin pressed in and touched about it once more, taking his index and touching the back of his knuckles to the tattoo, caressing it tentatively, like one would do to the spine of a cat. In response, the Cat King’s eyes fell leisurely closed, with a soft exhale echoing a sigh; if he had any complaints, Edwin was no longer listening. He'd forgotten there was something so warm as touch.
Intoxicated, Edwin turned his hand over and trailed it delicately down, down the ridges of his spine to the small dip of his back, reveling in how the Cat King reacted to his touch, arching so slightly upwards, lips parted to release a rare, crystalline gasp.
But of course, a man could never have nice things when he was dead- especially when his friends had finally come back from the museum they'd saved from a monster and wanted to file away the news.
"Edwin! Cat King!" shouted Crystal, rapping on the door. "You guys alive in there?"
"f*cking hell," the Cat King swore, eyes rolling completely open. Edwin, all his senses returning to him, tore his hand away like it had caught fire, tumbled off the desk.
"Yes!" Edwin called, praying she didn't hear the crack in his voice. "Coming right out!" Quickly, he gripped the bookshelf with both hands, just to catch himself before he fell, look upon something he recognized.
“Need some help doing up your laces?” Edwin shot a look at the Cat King- still sitting on the desk, grinning, that co*cky, shameless idiot. “You wound up tight pretty quick- wouldn’t want you to miss a step.”
"No," Edwin said, more breath than word. "I'm fine, thank you." But his right hand was still trembling, still tingling from where it had been on the Cat King's body. "God, I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean- I lost myself, wasn't thinking, hell, I didn't even ask-"
"Hey, whoa, when did I say I was upset?" laughed the Cat King; he'd put his coat back on, giving Edwin some semblance of sanity. "It's okay, I'm good with it. Didn't do me any wrong."
He was fine. Of course he was fine- he'd been touched in three lifetimes worth of places, and Edwin was just overreacting, momentarily carried away by nothing more than an impulse. Like a fool.
But then there was a hand on the crook of Edwin's elbow, a surprising look of comfort from the Cat King’s slit pupiled citrine eyes catching on what he'd so winningly described as emerald. “You don’t ever need to apologize for wanting something.”
And that was the thing; some stubborn, touch drunk part of Edwin didn’t want to. It felt a strangely familiar sense, like he’d found a book he hadn’t wanted to stop reading. What shocked him was the fact that he’d wanted in the first place and hadn’t even thought about it- hadn’t thought at all.
And he was about to say something- he had to, Edwin couldn’t just let the Cat King leave him on the lurch -but naturally Niko picked that moment to peek her head through the door.
"Hey," she singsonged, glancing between Edwin and the Cat King. "So, just wanted to let you guys know, Charles and Crystal are outside, and they said they're gonna get Jenny to break down the wall if you guys don't open the door. All love, just, quick warning."
And then Niko, sweet, utterly unsubtle Niko, left Edwin with a last glance at the hand on his arm and an actual thumbs up. And suddenly, with the Cat King's eyes back on him, Edwin once again craved the sweet release of death.
Notes:
NDA - Billie Eillish
Chapter 7: Rush
Summary:
This time, it’s the gang going out to meet the Cat King, and in this chapter, we’re getting ~fancy~ That’s right we’re doing a ballroom espionage job because where the hell else am I going to put a choreographed dance.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Look at us," crowed Charles. "Dead Boy Detectives agency, going out on the town!"
"And outofthe town," added Crystal. "Part of me thinks they just set up the whole thing in Salem just for the vibes." Well, not quite yet- they'd gone to hit up one of London's top-rated thrift stores first.
"If by vibes, you mean inherently supernatural history," Edwin said, combing selectively through an array of bowties. "It is not the witch-trial province of Massachusetts, but it still carries many legends."
"Honestly, I don't know about any of that," said Niko, stepping out of the dressing room in a floral sunset pink chiffon dress, like the pastel embodiment of spring. "But I do think this is the best I've ever looked, period."
The rest of the gang turned from their conversation to gasp, laugh, wholeheartedly agree. "It certainly will be an opportunity for us to take our methods up a notch," Edwin agreed, beaming with pride.
Rather than the Cat King coming to London, the detectives were taking their own trip up to Salem, Oregon, which was a skip over Washington to an annual gathering of the most powerful supernatural beings in the States- the Cat King being one of them, he was using his sway to get the Dead Boys in unharmed.
Because the Cat King liked staying a step ahead of his opponents (and because he’d been looking for an excusenotto attend), he’d gotten word from one of his attending allies that one of the big shots there would be attempting a coup against the organization, which could potentially not be good for the creatures under their care.
”Since it seemed like the kind of thing in your wheelhouse, I thought you guys would be the ones for the job,” the Cat King wrote in his letter back to Niko. “Just show up in something nice enough not to be embarrassing, and you’ll blend right in.”
The others had taken to the task eagerly, dressing up in regency-modern era designs and colors. But Edwin, who admittedly had a more muted palette, was a little more anxious than the rest.
”Edwin, comeon,”Crystal called through the door. “We promise, we’re not gonna do anything. Literally nothing could be as bad as Charles walking out in that houndstooth nightmare.”
”And the shades,” Charles reminded her with a wink. “Don’t forget the shades.”
”Alright, fine!” Edwin relented. “Just… tell me if it’s no good.”
And the ghost opened the door; the moment halted then and there, widening all eyes and dropping jaws to the floor.
”Oh my God,” breathed Niko.
”Edwin,” Crystal started. “I think you found a winner.”
Edwin, though dashing in the navy blue paisley pattern suit Niko had picked out for him, blazer buttoned over the black satin vest she’d insisted wouldn’t clash with the tone, couldn’t feel anything else but out of his depth. “It’s relieving that someone thinks so.”
”And so should you!” Charles exclaimed, seizing his friend by the shoulders to look at him in full. “You look absolutely brilliant, Eds!”
”Really? You- you don’t think the pattern’s too much, or-“
”I think you need to stop worrying. Crystal’s right- it’s the one.”
Edwin tried on a smile for his sake, adjusting his bowtie in the mirror if only so he wouldn’t feel strangled when Niko edged up behind him. “He’s gonna love it,” she whispered confidently.
Charles had thankfully gone to accompany Crystal at the register with their purchases. “That does not matter,” replied Edwin, though the nameless mention did make him stand a little straighter. “I am not attending in order to impress anyone.”
”Doesn’t mean that it isn’t true.”
The very next night, they were walking into a seemingly dilapidated Victorian era mansion in the middle of the forest, save for the windows spilling out with golden light, music and laughter. Inside, there were leagues of monsters and inhumans, titles like the Cat King and witches like Esther milling about by the sparkling magenta punch bowl. Walls were covered in vines and flowers, like the forest had broken through and taken over.
”I can see how we needed the ticket,” murmured Charles. He was wearing a velvet blood red suit decked out in a rose-and-thorn pattern, a loose black tie circled round his neck. “Place is packed past the brim.”
”We should probably keep moving towards the action, if we want to find the Cat King,” said Crystal- radiant in her dress of periwinkle tulle, decorated in white meadowflowers that earned more than a few envious looks from the nymphs in attendance. “He told us that he’d meet us in the middle, and knowing him, he probably means something adjacent to literally.”
The closer they got to the music, the more that the fast paced, pop-drenched violin seemed to draw them in, the sound of voices cackling and singing along to what was possibly Ariana Grande. Reaching the beating, vibrant center, it was as if they’d stumbled onto the set of someone’s regency era dream movie, overcast with a secret garden twist. Women and men in elegant, fantastical gowns and suits; it appeared the only dress code was nothing below the standard of extravagance.
Lingering by the entrance, decked out in a princely leather vest of shimmery black and burnished gold filigree over his flowy white shirt, the Cat King looked to be drowning in his ennui when the detectives walked up. “Okay, thank God,”he said, handing his drink to the sentient vines crawling over the walls. “You guys almost had me convinced you weren’t going to show- they just got to the third turn of the night.”
”Well, sorry if it takes a while to fly across the country,” sniped Crystal. “By the way, could you tell that snake lady in the living room that we’re not part of any weird harem of yours, or whatever? She seemed to get the wrong idea when we asked her for directions.”
The Cat King simply rolled his eyes. “That’s because she knows my-“ The rest of his sentence cut short, stopping dead on seeing Edwin edge nervously forward, trying to get a look at the scene. “Well, look atyou.”
“I’d very much rather we not,” Edwin quipped hastily, not daring to look back. His nerves were plain to see on his face, but the Cat King saw nothing but the man looking like a creation of magic in the most remarkable shade of blue- the kind that, under these shifting lights, brought out the engaging ocean-esque colors in his eyes.
”Okay, we’re here now,” Charles butted in, taking his role of the catblocker very seriously. “What do you suggest we do now, with all these fancy people?”
The Cat King, had taken care not to deal with this kind of insolence in quite a few decades; it still took a considerable amount of energy for him to make this exception.“Well, not that you know much about it, but try being subtle in your snooping- the crowd in this place is a lot less forgiving of interruption than I. In the meantime.”
His eyes slipped to Edwin again, sliding over the bob in his throat as he looked back. Then: “Niko.” The Cat King overturned an offering hand to the girl’s surprise. “May I have the honor of taking you for your first dance of the night?”
Niko blinked owlishly, obviously knowing she was quite a difference from Edwin, but her joy took over beaming. “Sure!” Accepting his hand graciously, she let the king lead her out into the ballroom.
”Don’t worry, Edwin,” the Cat King called over his shoulder. “I’ll come back for you.”
Charles and Crystal eyed the strained exhale Edwin pushed out of his chest. “Perfect.”
With their only advice being to keep their 'snooping' subtle, the remaining detectives took to conversing with the guests who wouldn't be opposed to new faces, exploring the house for weak points, learning about the aristocracy attending. As the third turn carried on, they took to staking out the scene from the upper floor balcony for outliers- and keeping an eye on their girl, of course. Far as anyone could tell, there was no foul play going on; the giggling grins reflecting off the Cat King and Niko seemed oddly genuine. And to say nothing of the fact that the Cat King wasactually a very good dancer- he moved as fluidly as he behaved, pink dress and black wrap pants flaring out as both he and she pirouetted to the tune that played sometimes on the radio, with the chorus going, "Can you kiss me more?" One might imagine how it felt to be in his arms, mirroring step for step, gazing into those twilight eyes.
"Did he set you off?" Charles asked, shaking Edwin from his focus on the dance floor. "Saying he'd come back and dance with you?" Edwin just barely opened his mouth- "You don't have to do it, you know. If it bothers you that much, I'll do it for you. Take that cat for a turn 'round the dance floor."
Edwin couldn't help it; he laughed. "I'm fine, Charles," he promised. "And even if I weren't, I wouldn't subject you to that."
"Well, I won't say I'm not grateful." The pair of them laughed; the original Dead Boy Detectives. There was nobody in the world but Charles who he'd rather spend his afterlife with. "You'd tell me if you're not alright, wouldn't you?"
It had taken a while, admittedly, for Edwin to feel completely all right around Charles. But it would never have lasted forever- not when they cared about each other so much more than that. "Yes," Edwin said sincerely. "You mustn't worry about me- you or Crystal," he said, getting the psychic to turn from where she'd been pretending not to listen in. "In fact, you two should take a turn down there yourselves. Get a closer feel for the action."
Awhooshof fire at their backs, and the Cat King and Niko appeared by the balcony, still chuckling to each other over a joke they'd left on the dance floor. Niko fluttered over beside Edwin. "He's really good," she whispered in his ear, turning him around to face his fate. "Remember to have fun!"
"What about it, Edwin?" asked the Cat King. The waves of his hair were less contained than usual, almost appearing windblown. "Shall we?"
Niko was holding out a double thumbs up, Charles was tapping the hilt of his sword, and Crystal had the kind of veiled smile on her face that said, if he wrongs you, knock him dead."I suppose we shall," Edwin said at last. "For research."
"Right." The walls around them shifted, and they were transported to the center of the dance floor; the Cat King hadn’t even flinched. “Are you gonna take out your notebook too?”
The band had picked up with another classical rendition of a modern song, something Edwin knew but couldn't recall. “I’d rather say it’s time for more hands on work.” The Cat King’s smirk spread. “Don’t you dare.”
However, despite the prowess shown with Niko, they didn’t start off quite so smoothly.
With the first move bringing their palms together, Edwin ended up stepping forward with the same foot as the Cat King. Both stepped back, tried again. Same thing.
”My left, your right.”
”Er- yes. Right.”
They tried it out again, joining hands on one side and resting the other on their forearms, one trying to follow the rest of the routine while the latter kept his eyes on the floor, trying to pick up the pattern. But inevitably, with Edwin not so good with moving backwards out of his own accord, steadying oneself brought the toe of his shoe over the Cat King’s boot.
”Sorry, sorry,” he whispered to his palpable wince. “That was unintentional.”
”Whatever you say.”
On the upper level, the others seemed confused as well. “He did just fine with me,” Niko murmured.
”Edwin’s a little more stubborn when it comes to someone else taking the lead,” Charles explained, watching the pair bicker between steps. “Even if he doesn’t know the moves, he’ll learn on the spot if he doesn’t have to depend.”
Through the clumsiest boxed feather step ever, the pair bumped into a tall, redheaded man that looked like a redwood personified, hazel eyes regarding the both of them with antipathy. “Either stay in line, or off the floor.”
He spun away with his blond female companion. “I could say the same to you,” Edwin groused.
“f*ck off, asshole,” snapped the Cat King at the same time. “Damn faes.”
”Do you know him?”
”Oh yeah, whole bag of dicks- Reginald.Thinks he’s hot sh*t because he’s human raised by faeries, but really it just makes him an airhead.” The Cat King’s brows furrowed. “But he is the guy who organizes this whole bash every year.”
Edwin forgot about proximity, looked right at him. “And where was that information being held?”
”Under your toe- you were stepping on it.”
”Well, how am I supposed to know if you’re leading or I?”
”Icould,if you’d let me,” the Cat King hissed. “Don’t tell me you skipped all your private school ballroom classes for more library hours.”
”How do you even assume I lived my life?”
”Very quiet, very structured, and very, verychaste.” The ballroom swirled around them, and the Cat King sighed. “Damn it, we missed the spin.”
”To bloody hell with the spin,” Edwin sniped back. “How is dancing on a job supposed to help us attain knowledge?”
”You tell me where to go, take notes along the way. You’re right in the thick of things- it’s the best place to be on a job!”
”But how do I know if I can trust-“
”You don’t,” the Cat King cut him off. Then, a little more humbled, “Have to.” He dropped his hands from Edwin’s, stepped back. “You just put your hands in mine. Let me move you.” A brief gesture around at the swaying couples in all their regalia. “That’s kinda how it works in this case.”
Edwin was all for getting his hands dirty for work’s sake, taking notes on the fly. But this was unknown to him- letting someone else write the script. “How do I do that?”
“Don’t you want to know for one moment what it’s like to not have to be in control?”
It was the most terrifying question Edwin could have possibly been asked. ‘No’ was his instinct answer.
But the Cat King reached out, not waiting on anyone else. In this outfit, this light, he was dazzling. He looked every inch the royal of his name. “I promise, it won’t be of any harm to you.”
And this time, he waited for Edwin to move towards him, gingerly place his hand into his palm. Once he had a hold of him, the Cat King swept Edwin into his orbit, waiting until Edwin’s hand came to rest on his shoulder before he slotted his own to his waist. And when they moved, this time was slowly in tandem- of course, not without a few learning curves, Edwin still had to tendency to overstep, stutter at a few faster moves -but surprisingly, he had a good teacher.
At the whispers that erupted at their backs, something about that alley cat and his little undead consort,Edwin stiffened, jolting his eyes around every which way, trying to catch the culprits. “I didn’t realize your reputation preceded you so greatly.”
”Well, I didn’t meet you until almost last year, and these meetings are a lot more boring than you think-“
”And thus the games begin,” Edwin rolled his eyes.
”And what does it matter? You don’t recognize any of them from Port Townsend, do you?” Feeling his rigidity, the Cat King shorted such with a tiny squeeze to his waist, startling Edwin’s attention upon him with a short gasp. “They don’t know that you see me, and I see you. We’re out here for what we hear, not what they say. You don’t have to look at anyone but me.”
Edwin followed the low thrum of his baritone, settled into his gilded, gleaming cat’s eyes not as a distraction as they’d so often been, but a point of focus. “I won’t.”
The softness in his answer shifted a pause into the Car King’s steps, a brief parting of his mouth at absent words until he had to nudge them out of the way of another whirling couple. ”Where do you want to go?”
Edwin scanned the dance floor, locating the tallest crop of combed red hair in the room. “Reginald.”
With a playful twirl, the Cat King changed their direction, both of them moving with the current,Edwin being carried through through the motions, one fluid spin followed so gracefully by another that he had to laugh, not even noticing the shining expression on the Cat King's face as he admired the fleeting features.
”Okay,” Crystal started, peeking carefully at Charles, who hadn’t looked up since the beginning of the song. “I know we’re both on the same page here, which is plotting the Cat King’s seven deaths if he tries anything on Edwin.”
”Very much so, yes.”
Crystal looked back at the scene, watching Edwin and the Cat King carousel movement through the crowd. “But like… the way that cat’s looking at him.”
Charles sighed. “I know.” He balanced his elbows on the banister, tracking their rounds. “Just keeping watch to make sure he doesn’t try to rough him up.”
”You and me both,” Crystal promised. Dutifully, Charles obliged with looping an arm around her shoulders. “You know you’re not the only one who worries, right?”
”… Yeah.”
”And you know I tried to go to hell for Edwin even after you told me not to.”
”Still not something I agree with.”
Crystal jabbed him lightly in the side with her elbow. “Edwin’s stronger than the both of us want to believe,” she said. “Even if it’s against a guy like the Cat King, he can take care of himself.”
”Yeah.” Charles just shrugged. “It’s just… weird. At first, they were only connected through that bracelet.” Below them, the Cat King and Edwin were sidestepping closer to Reginald. “Now, it’s just them.”
"He did always act a priss at meetings," the Cat King mused. "Maybe that was just fragile masculinity talking?"
"Priss or not, I'm sure his ears work," whispered Edwin, pulling them back a little. "It would explain plenty about the place- the sentient overgrowth, the floral motifs. Plus, there is the understandable motive of being human in an organization where everyone else is not."
"Sucks to suck." The Cat King nodded up at the ceiling, at the glowing flower bulb in its center. "You said you were talking with Crystal earlier about the lights in there. Don't think they're just fireflies?"
"No- if they were fireflies, they'd be dead. She suggested something like the dandelion sprites, but, considering Niko's ordeal with them, they'd be much noisier." Edwin tried looking up. "I just need to perceive them at a different angle."
The Cat King hummed, considered that. Then, whirling Edwin through a surprise tornado of a spin, he caught him in a low dip suspending the ghost at a contained ninety-degree angle. "Better?"
Edwin blinked away his disconcertion; he was convinced he heard Niko's squeal through the music. "Actually, yes," he said, ignoring the Cat King's self-satisfied smile as he focused on the flower bulb in the ceiling. "Though they don't appear alive, they look more like... mites, of a sort. Spores." Suddenly, Edwin gasped. "Like the flower, of course!"
"Let me guess: someone cracked the case?"
"It's a lotus flower," Edwin explained as the Cat King righted them up, shifting them back into the moving current towards the center. "The myth of the lotus eaters- when Odysseus' men reached their island, they were offered the plants as a food source. When they ate them, however, they lost all desire to leave and chose to forever indulge. Those spores would carry the same effect!"
"Ugh," the Cat King shuddered. "Sounds like the 60's. Nineteen, to be specific."
"Reginald must be waiting for some grand moment to poison the attendees- but if we find the mechanism controlling it, we may be able to stop him." Edwin glanced about, surprised by himself. "Why- that such conclusion, and I never left the floor."
"Don't know why you're surprised." With the rest of the room, the Cat King spun him facing out, back to chest, circling him into his embrace. "You're doing amazing," he whispered into Edwin's ear.
Edwin suppressed a shudder, resisted the urge to tilt his head towards him. "Not without guidance," he said as the Cat King’s hand curled behind his wrist in raising it, curving around threading through his palm to hold it, arcing their arms over their heads.
"When are you going to stop selling yourself short?" The Cat King pivoted to face him, brought their joined hands down between them. "All I did was point you in the places you knew you had to go." Their hands passed over their eyes, pausing in the space between their pulses. "The rest was all you."
In that moment, Edwin could remember the lyrics now: a rich, somber voice, soft and mournful, singing out, "Spending all my nights alone, waiting for you to call me." A singular cheer went up that made him look around; Niko was clapping her giddy assent, Crystal beaming non-threateningly, even Charles mouthing, 'Go for the kill' with a smile. One that Edwin had to return.
The start had been rocky, but the going was natural as could be. The surety Edwin felt in the Cat King's control of their steps, palms pressed together as they whirled about their orbit, the glint in the latter's eyes as he watched the lights play over his features. Sure, those lights were from evil, gluttonous lotus spores, but for the first time, Edwin was following someone else's flight, and he wasn't afraid at all. "I think I did miss you," Edwin admitted, to the happy tilt of the Cat King's mouth. "When I first left from Port Townsend."
"I won't say it doesn't feel good to finally hear out loud," the Cat King mused, using the next turn to place his raised hand over Edwin's hip, a move that he copied, following the circular pattern. "How much so? Momentarily? Weekly? Daily?"
Edwin chuckled as the pattern reversed. "Perhaps." The closeness of the ballroom dance kept them constantly connected, but it felt almost like returning to normal, as if this kind of parley was another side of their banter- another facet of the world the Cat King was opening up to him. “Your games, and your outfits.”
The two turned out side by side, Edwin’s hand atop the Cat King’s, subtle steps forward and out with the rest of the ballroom, until one couple who wanted to get a head start on the fifth turn whirled a little too close to Edwin, who the Cat King saved from the collision by pulling him into his own arms- hand cinched over the small of Edwin’s back, chest to chest, blue paisley and black filigree vest pressed against each other.
”Maybe,” the Cat King purred, inquisitively meeting Edwin’s winded, astonished gaze. “This is a new one we can try.”
An hour of dancing, threatening, and espionage later, the five of them watched safely from a far-off hilltop as the entire assembly of supernatural entities flee Reginald's foiled plan screaming, running for the shadows.
“Good job, team,” Charles announced, giving a weighted pause. “And Whiskers.”
“Hey, I’m just happy to get my name in the credits," the Cat King replied easily, scoring a few mild laughs from the detectives, who didn't find his sarcasm as annoying anymore. When he spotted Edwin sneaking a small smile from behind Niko, he split a wink at him- something secret and soft, like a firefly in a jar.
Notes:
Rush - Troye Sivan
*also, Pinterest inspired outfits for the gang lol
Niko: https://pin.it/3s2m0HRnz
Crystal: https://pin.it/PulKFwUrv
Charles: https://pin.it/1GNduHfKq
Edwin: https://pin.it/6vKxQjaH5, https://pin.it/3TMtaFFuv
Cat King: https://pin.it/6Y12vbEnK, https://pin.it/7fBtCE8ig, https://pin.it/1r67WveJs
*also Vitamin String Quartet covers that inspired the ballroom sections of the chapter!
1. Entry - positions
2. The Cat King & Niko - Kiss Me More
3. The Cat King & Edwin - SUGAR
Chapter 8: Espresso
Summary:
So, it's not a job chapter, but hey, let's throw a wrench in the dynamic. It starts off as a job, but a mirror gets installed in the Cat King's palace, and that gives even more of an opening for the gang to visit, so that's pretty much what ends up happening.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The blue light of Death vanished in the living room, giving the detectives the go-ahead to peek back inside and enjoy the look of a clear coast.
Charles lifted his sword, letting everyone else pass through. “Well, we can cross that one off the list,” he announced proudly. “Another soul happily moved on to the afterlife.”
”Not that it didn’t take a while,” said Crystal, stepping over another pair of frolicking cats. “Seriously, who in their natural lifetime has enough time to collect this many cats?”
The answer was Agatha Gladbury- died at age ninety-eight with her husband, who called upon the Dead Boy Detectives to help convince her to go with him to the afterlife instead of remaining in her Oxford cottage to care for her eighty-six cats, which were apparently less expensive than children.
“I suppose with a sizeable enough nest egg, one can afford a great number of precious things,” said Edwin. Rather than a cat, he was holding up a golden bracelet to the sunlight, watching the emeralds engraved in it glimmer. He supposed the humans would sell it all when they got ahold of it, but he couldn’t bring himself to let this one go.
“But what’re we gonna do with all these little guys?” asked Niko, scratching the bellies of two kittens at once. “Not all of the living ones will be able to find homes, and the dead ones need a place to stay too.”
Charles tapped his chin in a show of thought. “Let’s see,” he hummed. “Who do we know that houses a town full of cats, bases his brand off ‘em, and always looks to make it impossible for people to count how many?” He sent a knowing look to Edwin across the room. “Perhaps a friend of yours, eh, mate?”
Belatedly, Edwin caught his glance. “Ah, yes,” he confirmed, pocketing the bracelet hastily. “That could work.”
Or so he thought, until the Cat King himself took a look at their situation and said, “It’s a no go.”
“What?”
”Well, like, eighty percent,” the Cat King clarified. He was kneeling on the ground, letting the former Mrs. Gladwell’s offspring poke and prod at this strange new character. “Sure, I could be able to set up these living cats in Port Townsend, but that’d take a good couple trips across the sea, and even my power drains at that- and to say nothing of these skeletal sweethearts. Without any direction to take them, they usually end up just wandering the earth.”
He obliged in picking up one of the undead cats, rising with the creature draped around his neck like a shawl. “As much as I’d like to offer you guys an easy fix- and yes, you have earned the discount -I’m afraid there isn’t one for this case.”
But just as everything seemed hopeless, it was Niko who came up with the golden ticket idea.
”What if we mirrored the cats over to Port Townsend?” she asked, shocking them into silence. “Even if they don’t have direction, they’re still ghosts- we can lure them through and help them get somewhere safe.”
The Cat King thoughtfully stroked the cat who had slunk into his arms. “Edwin, I think you’ve got some competition for the brains of your operation.”
Edwin, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more proud of the fact. “In a rare turn of events, I think you’re right.”
While it did take a bit longer than a simple teleportation swap, the end result pieced together rather smoothly. Crystal got one of Jenny’s Port Townsend connections to ferry the living cats down to the Imperial Cannery, while Niko took to posting up ads for the cats who were willing to be adopted. On the Cat King’s end, all he had to do was place a mirror in front of his palace so that the dead cats could make their way through.
The first ghosts to pass through were Edwin and Charles, meeting the Cat King out in front of the dock.
”Not bad, isn’t it?” said the Cat King, gesturing to the portrait-sized mirror framed with lacquered laced wood which he’d set in front of the abandoned bar gate. He was waiting for them in ripped black jeans and a low buttoned Cuban linen shirt with Ray Bans over his eyes. “Found it at some old money garage sale in Medina- old bags didn’t even notice when my cats took it.”
”Aces,” Charles replied flatly. “Have you got the bait?”
A wave of his fire-tipped fingers, and a net of dead fish dropped from the sky, much to the curiosity of his other cats.
”Step back,” said the Cat King, tugging Edwin by the elbow. “They’re gonna smell it any second.”
It took less than five for the militia of skeleton cats Edwin and Charles had so painstakingly rounded up to race through the mirror, circle around the fish with the living cats, who seemed to recognize the presence of their dead counterparts.
“Glad to see that was well taken care of,” Edwin said, snapping the lapels of his overcoat. “I trust you’ll keep them in line, Cat?”
”They won’t subtract from or affect much of the population, no,” said the Cat King. “It’ll take some adjustment- with house cats, it usually does -but they’ll learn from my other subjects to deal.”
“And, just to check again,” Charles started, as the Cat King was already rolling his eyes. “This isn’t cramping Your Majesty’s style too much? All these extra citizens adding to your population count?”
The Cat King tapped down his sunglasses to look Charles in the eye. ”I appreciate the consideration,” he told him, in a most rehearsed manner, “but I’ve got pretty much this entire dock locked down. If anything, it adds to my prowess as a ruler.” Nudging the bridge back up, he turned on his heel and sauntered back to the warehouse. “If ever I’m in need of solitude, I’m more than capable of creating a more personable niche.”
Then, just to be obnoxious: “Isn’t that right, Edwin?”
Edwin’s mouth zipped shut while Charles’ dropped disturbedly open. “Ah,” the ghost peeped; just the leisure in his walk was enough to serve as a reminder of the Cat King’s personal dimension. “Right.”
Charles stared at his friend. “Mate,” he whispered. “That was something you were going to tell me about, right?”
”… In my defense, it took me a moment to comprehend my being there as well.”
Another funny thing ended up happening: even though the mirror was only meant to be used for one job, it ended up staying, giving the detectives more easy access to Port Townsend again. It became even more common for them to see their king, either for advice on a job or when Niko just wanted to know if he liked scratches behind the ears, blanket forts, or tuna out of a can (to which he answered yes, yes, and without a shadow of a doubt no, he loved the girl, but jeez.)
When the Dead Boy Detective agency found themselves in need of a few select supplies, the four of them decided to go on a trip to Port Townsend to go pay a visit to Tragic Mick, who, much to Niko’s disappointment, still was not a walrus.
”And you even got the red sea glass like I told you?”
”Ayup,” sighed Tragic Mick. “Still hasn’t worked.”
”I’m sorry,” Niko murmured, pulling out the good luck charm in her pocket. “Guess you’ll probably want this back.”
”No.” The walrus-man stopped her before she could place it on the desk. “You keep it- my luck might be shot, but your gift is still needed.”
Looking back where Edwin was peering at a map of Port Townsend, Niko leaned in over the register. “Don’t tell him this, but Iam trying to set my friend up with someone,” she whispered. “They have a bit of a past, but I think it could really be beautiful.”
Tragic Mick listened close, nodded heavily. “If that’s the case, you definitely keep the charm- good love needs all the luck in the world.”
The building where Tongue and Tail used to be had been renovated by a Portland hipster into some organic juice bar, with the buildings above as office spaces, but damn if the Cat King didn’t have a few extra connections- one that happened to land him four extra hammocks, beanbag chairs, a flatscreen, and a writing desk just because there was room in his private chambers. When the day winded down into night, the detectives retired there for more personal sorts of conversation.
“No,” the Cat King stated firmly, cross legged on his bed.
“Yes,” Charles insisted, planted on a red beanbag.
“No- and that’s final. I refuse to hear this.”
“You try telling someone who cares, rude boy. The roles are set- I’m Fred, Edwin’s Velma, Niko’s Shaggy, Crystal’s Daphne, which leaves you as Scooby Doo.”
“Sorry- did you miss the split half of my entire species? I’m a Cat King, not a mongrel.” The king looked around at their audience, who were gleefully watching the discourse take place. “Is anyone going to back me up here?”
“Sorry, man,” Crystal sympathized from her purple hammock. In the hot pink beanbag beside her, Niko giggled quietly. Even Edwin, who rarely engaged in such tomfoolery, snorted at the provided desk.
The Cat King couldn’t remember being so cruelly betrayed. “Unbelievable.”
The decision was final- the Cat King had completed their Mystery Incorporated as the Scooby Doo to their gang.
A day later (after a night spent watching the live action movies, both the Cat King and Crystal tracing a faithful sign of the cross when Linda Cardellini sauntered downstairs in a red leather bodysuit and the iconic phrase, “Who’s your mommy?”),the gang was headed back to London and their regular routine.
”Be sure to write on what the ferry’s like,” the Cat King called after, waving from the port. “I’ll be sure to pray for your motion sickness.”
”That we get it or we don’t?” Crystal challenged.
”Either or.”
Rolling her eyes, the psychic flipped him off over her shoulder with a smile, which the Cat King pressed to his heart with a sarcastic hand. “It was kind of you to give us a place to stay,” said Edwin. “I’ll admit, I did not expect for you to accommodate multiple people into your private quarters.”
”Oh, Edwin,” murmured the Cat King empathetically. “If you wanted a night alone with me, all you had to do was say so.”
The smile Edwin allowed was more curt than forced; it would’ve been unusual if he hadn’t received this kind of banter in response. “I’ll be sure to file the request next time,” he replied, turning to follow at Charles’ beckoning. “Oh- one last thing.”
He produced a small black box from his pocket, the kind that usually held a piece of jewelry, placed it in the Cat King’s hand. “Open it once I am out of sight,” Edwin instructed, to his skepticism. “Worry not- you will understand the sentiment.”
Edwin finally raced back after his agency, Charles patting his back with one hand and holding Crystal’s hand with another. The last the Cat King saw of them before they disappeared down the road was Niko waving an ecstatic goodbye, one the Cat King returned; with Niko, you kind of had to.
Not wasting a second of Edwin’s advice, he opened the box to the gold-emerald bracelet that Agatha Gladbury had left behind, attached with a note reading: Consider it payback, in Edwin’s handwriting, from the Dead Boy Detectives agency.
The Cat King slipped it over his wrist, watched the metal catch and shimmer in the sun, thinking of Edwin pausing to write his own name, then rethinking it to put down his business instead.
Chuckling, the Cat King walked a slow waltz back into his palace, humming to himself the song that had played when it had just been them, dancing in a secret garden, moving in sync.
Notes:
Espresso (Mark Ronson x FNZ Working Late Remix) - Sabrina Carpenter
Chapter 9: Collide
Summary:
So yes, that was adorable, the team’s all getting along, but what about the Cat King’s side of things? What’s it like for him, being back in Edwin’s life, the two of them getting closer?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The rest of Port Townsend might have been asleep at the hour of midnight, but the Cat King was in his throne, gazing out his warehouse palace window, turning a bracelet over his knuckles in the moonlight as he brooded yet again over a certain ghost detective that had stolen his sleep.
When there sounded a few tentative footsteps from behind, he dismissed it without looking. “I’m alright, Alejandro, just… oscillating.”
“I must say, you have both a vulgar and expansive vocabulary."
He whipped around; the vision he saw in the mirror wasn't himself, but Edwin passing through. “I thought no rest was saved for the wicked,” the Cat King said, rising from his throne to approach him. It was suspiciously late for Edwin to make an appearance, even late for a ghost who didn’t sleep. “What kind of mystery has you up past this hour?”
“I could ask that of you. Although, given that we’ve both spent this long dodging the obvious, I’m beginning to assume that we’re thinking of the same thing.”
He kept approaching, not even talking to stall. Even for Edwin, that was unusually direct. “What can I do for you tonight?”
“I‘ve been thinking,” said Edwin carefully, pacing through the space made by the shadows, “about what you said, in the forest with Monty. When you saved me.”
"You might have to be specific- I've saved you a great many times now, and all with wonderful catch phrases." Edwin couldn't blame him for not remembering right away.
“About second kisses,” Edwin simplified, stepping into the window box of light, bordering on the Cat King’s space. “I think I’m ready for mine.”
Well, then. One couldn't say the Cat King wasn't elated to hear that statement out loud. But, unless memory had gotten a little fuzzy, he very clearly remembered Edwin pushing him away the last time he'd offered. “And it’s me you want it from?” he asked to be sure, as if something in that brilliant brain had come loose from decades of solving other people's mysteries; Edwin kept coming closer, stalking him backwards. “Not gonna ask me to turn into Charles? I told you before, I’m not opposed to role play.”
“I have not summoned for either of them, have I?” Edwin was sharp as a rapier this night; observant, acerbic, deadly beautiful. “Don’t tell me the Cat King’s feeling afraid, after talking such a big game.”
And he wasn't- not when he’d been waiting for this for months on end, wishing for it every time he got close enough to imagine the press of Edwin’s lips, but something had the Cat stuck in place, a force stronger than magic, stronger than gravity. “Not for nothing, Edwin, but I’m sure you’ve got a line of other guys who’d be willing to do you that service.”
“I don’t want anyone else, Cat.” He delivered the line straight into him. “I want you.” The tone of his voice touched the small of the Cat King’s back to the cool metal of the wall that shivered through his shirt. “You’ve always been able to provide for me- how should this be any different?”
The Cat King knew how it was different, knew from ages of rebirths and experiences how different the second kiss was from the first, especially when it was with someone you wanted. Somewhere, he knew Edwin knew that too, even if he was abandoning words for action.
But the king couldn’t bring himself to say a word when Edwin was backing him into the wall, using the advantage of his height to bracket him into the space, like it was their own little planet. “I’m not just gonna make this easy for you,” he says, though his eyes dropped to Edwin’s soft lips. Lilith, when did I get this pathetic. “You know that, right?”
“Don’t worry,” Edwin told him. Leather-gloved fingers tilted up his chin to stare into those beckoning green eyes, those emerald eyes. “I know how expensive you are.”
The Cat King’s eyelids went heavy, though he felt so awake, and the hands over his skin were completely diabolical, so calculated in knowing exactly what they were doing to him.
“You want to convince me I’m not a toy to you?" snarled Edwin, flicking his eyes down. "Prove it.”
The Cat King gave in to them in an instant.
The kiss engulfed him, washed him away in midnight waves and smooth skin that tasted like sea salt, like earl gray and carefully curated delicacy. He’d wanted all this for so long, too long. He was so close to destruction; he couldn't just let it happen- not without bringing Edwin down with him. Not without destroying them both.
The Cat King ran his fingers through Edwin’s hair and made it into a wreck; he skimmed a hand beneath his coat, gripped waist and pulled tight, colliding their bodies. He lived for the weaknesses Edwin exposed to him, caressed the parts he hid under layers of buttoned cloth and an iron heart, powered by the name whispered into his ear when he went for the throat.
“Thomas. Thomas.”
“Sire!”
The Cat King awoke- on his bed, chest heaving, hand fisted in the sheets, completely alone. Well, not anymore. “What is it, Lyra?”
“You’re being summoned again- those Dead Boy Detectives aren’t letting up!”
“Oh.” He slumps back into his bed again, arm flung over his eyes, the whisper of Edwin’s voice still lingering in his ear. His emerald bracelet still burned into his skin, where he'd fallen asleep twisting the links between his fingers. “Oh, sh*t.”
Over the more recent months, the Cat King found that it really, really sucked having a crush as an immortal.
Sure, it began as all fun and games- started with a fascination sparked by,"this guy really is a classic from another era, Sherlock never had a chance," to staying on, burning low past infatuation life expectancy with sappy, stupid little thoughts like,"man, he really spent a whole week hyperfixated on The Song of Achilles, what a dork."Maybe it would've been less consuming if he didn't come running every time he called, but it was instinct now- not biting the hand that fed, leaning into it instead.
The Cat King arrived to the agency, loyal cat that he was, to an instant sugar-sweet welcome from Niko. "Hi, Cat King!" she said cheerfully. "Oh- did you get to watching Killing Eve?"
"What do you think- I'm on episode five, and already I want Eve to leave her husband." Crystal rolled her eyes, morning coffee in hand. "Von Hoverkraft, always a pleasure."
"You know, if we actually had a time to get here, I'd call you out for always coming in late," the psychic mused.
Still drier than the Dead Sea, but it’s kinda growing on me."And here I thought you were practical enough not to waste energy on such sourness." And, of course, Charles walked by with a stack of files in one arm. "Charles."
"Whiskers," the ghost boy replied, hand resting noticeably on the hilt of his sword. Real, but still. It hurt a guy’s feelings.
And then, of course, there’s Edwin, poring through books at his desk in the center of the morning light, thanking Charles for the files he placed on his desk. "Oh- and could you find that almanac? The one in the history section of the books?"
"What history section?" Charles yelled back. "You changed the order again last week!"
Edwin groaned, thunking his temple into his hand; he probably hadn't left the desk since midnight.
The Cat King strolled up the left side of the desk, picked the book off the windowsill. "This your card?" he asked; Edwin knew his entry lines so well he didn't even flinch at the reply, just turned and reached for the book in his hand. "You're welcome."
"Thank you," replied Edwin tiredly, flipping the pages to a spot covered in trees and monsters. "Has anyone briefed you on the day's job?"
"Not yet." The Cat King co*cked his head, if only in an effort to bring some life back into Edwin's eyes. "But maybe you could do the honors?"
Edwin raised his eyebrows at him; it was probably because sardonicism fit his expression so well that he kept getting so attracted to it. Eventually, the ghost sighed, opened the file folder. "A golem society has risen from the earth, terrorizing the nature and people of London who appreciate it," he said as the Cat King knelt down beside him. "We are to bring them back underground and bring peace to the wilderness once more."
"Because all good things come dead and buried," intoned the Cat King. "I mean, I would know, wouldn't I?"
In the glare Edwin shot at him, he saw a familiar flash of that fighting spirit. "Get to work," he told him instead, tamping down a smirk as he handed him a file.
The Cat King meant to obey- really, as an unpaid intern coming and going on his own free will, it was the least he was expected to do -but his eyes kept flicking back up to Edwin's face, how icy yet open it had looked in his subconscious.
Dream about it, he said. As if the Cat King didn't already.
But it was fine. It was cool. Every now and then, Edwin snuck out of the mortal plane to taunt the Cat King in his dreams, and sometimes it would get to be so much that he would race the moon into the sun just to avoid what he would feel. Perfectly manageable. Everything was under control.
Of course, the next thing the Cat King knew for a fact was the mission, where everything was most definitely not under control.
In the caverns of the golem habitat, the Dead Boy Detectives were running around, whacking at the juggernauts of the earth with everything they had. Niko was trying to hold off her attacker with Your Lie in April (which, damn girl, brutal), Charles doing his swishy-slicy thing with his sword, Crystal working her magic through the ground, and the Cat King hurling purple fire at whatever looked like a boulder with a face, dodging the lumps of clay-slash-golem guts spewing every which way. Why the hell am I even here?
And then he saw Edwin flying back by the punch force of a golem, and he remembered exactly why.
Edwin rolled to a tumbling stop, pushed back onto his feet and ran to the spell book he'd been using to summon a root spell, which would drag the golems back underground into the quieted earth. But a falling spire from the ceiling knocked it out of his reach, and a golem's colossal hand grabbed him, lifted him into the air.
The Cat King felt a growl rumble in the back of his throat. “Oh, f*cking try it, you-“ He split off, running after the golem and hurling a fireball like a discus, hitting the beast with a blast of fire that seeped in slowly and burned, melting it the rest of the way into the ground. The Cat King slid to his knees, catching Edwin before gravity could think of letting him touch the ground.
“You alright?”
Edwin looked like he'd just had the lights knocked out of him, but at least the guy was still somewhat corporeal. "Yes." The tense hold of his body relaxed slightly in the Cat King's hold, a feeling he probably didn't have to enjoy so much. "Thank you.”
“Edwin!" Charles yelled, that f*cking co*ckblocker. "You around, mate?”
Edwin jolted, glancing over the Cat King's shoulder to find his friend. "Cat King?"
"Yeah?"
“Put me down.”
And then Edwin was running back into the fray, looking this way and that for his lost spell book. The Cat King broke left, picking up the book where it had been left to the dust. "Edwin!"
Turning at the Cat King’s shout of his name, the ghost managed to to catch the tome he threw at him like a Frisbee across the cavern, flipping hurriedly to the root spell in the same instant."Tsurikkumen tsu erd!"*
The earth rumbled, and the golems melted like ice under the summer sun, roots flinging up from the ground and dragging them down, back into earth.
"Aw, man," Niko complained. "We weren't even finished with the first episode!"
Job well jobbed, as Charles would say it, they got the boring paperwork done and dead hikers reassured that yes, the forest would be safe. After all that was well and executed, the gang had gathered around the alley next to the agency building to wish the Cat King safe travels.
"Get your cats to watch season two with you!" Niko called as Crystal pulled her back inside. "It's a very fulfilling experience when watched with other people!"
"She means it!" Crystal confirmed.
"Didn't doubt her," the Cat King promised. Never would be a day when he did.
"Guess I'll be on my way up, then," said Charles, squeezing Edwin's hand as he left him. "Good luck, mate."
"And that's-?" Charles left around the corner with Crystal and Niko, leaving the Cat King without an explanation. "Not going to be broken down for me?"
"Well, why do you think I'm still here?" asked Edwin, potential energy all wound up in his lithe frame. His knuckles were pressed together in anxiety over just the two of them, alone in a dark alley. "Have you been... enjoying your time? With the agency?"
Despite himself, the Cat King loosened up in relief. "It's something I'm getting used to," he admitted nonchalantly. " Charles and Crystal are tolerable, Niko’s as perfect as a human being can be, and, well, I think you know I’d do it all for you." Edwin's mouth twitched into a tiny smile; he was seeing more and more of them, these days. "Am I finally going to be paid for my services?"
“Is the gratitude and victory not enough?”
“Stuff’s cheap. I require a little more to be maintained.”
"Don't worry," Edwin assured him. "I know how expensive you are."
Some tiny homunculus punched the Cat King in the throat.I get it, God, I've sinned too much for all three of my lifetimes, but you don't need to make fun of me for it."I should hope so," he murmured, stepping closer into Edwin's space. "What'll you give me, with only a moment of your time? I have expectations, given the ones we've had have always been so memorable."
Edwin paused to think; for someone who liked to live by the book, it was a little shocking to the Cat King that he hadn't planned ahead. “Are you... making a down payment, or-"
"Just- hush, for a minute.”
And Edwin himself took another step in, sharing the Cat King's orbit. Hands slowly rising to grip the low lapels of the Cat King's fur coat- the one he'd worn on inviting Edwin to bed with him. Except now, this was Edwin drawing him in, almost chest to chest, letting his hands rise over his torso, his collarbone, knuckles brushing the bare skin of the Cat King's neck.
This time, it was the Cat King leaning in when Edwin's lips brushed his cheek, enthralled by his earthly, leathery scent, his closeness, eyes drawing to a satisfactory close as those hands flattened on his chest-
And one slotted a card into his breast pocket.
The Cat King blinked back as Edwin pulled away, hand pawing at his own chest to produce a business card:Dead Boy Detectives- The Afterlife's Finest."Okay, you- you know that we're literally outside your building, right?"
"See it as a token of our recognition," said Edwin, feathers not even the slightest bit ruffled. "You having earned the trust of the company, and us no longer having to inconvenience you by pulling you from your home's work on short notice, you can call in and come by whenever you like, or have something supernatural to offer."
Trust of the company. Even in the long run, he never thought he'd get as much. "You mean I got the blessing from... everyone?"
"Yes, even Charles. Took a bit of effort, but he caved in. You haven't tried to hurt me, or anyone else, and." Edwin's underrated, miracle smile came back. "You're part of the team."
The team. A title that he'd referred to just as a joke. A thing he was a part of now.A team.All those covens, and gangs, and friend groups from days of old. The Cat King couldn't even remember when he'd last been trusted with something so whole.
Of course, he couldn't let Edwin see that just yet; he had to put on the charm. "So you're not just trying to get a more accessible booty call, eh?"
"My God- you really make me want to push you out into the street, do you know?” The Cat King cackled; he was so easy to rile up. "You- go back to your kingdom. Do whatever it is you do. Call."
"Got the name and the number, sweetheart," he winked, delighting in the twist of Edwin's pretty mouth as he strolled backwards. "Now you're never getting rid of me." The Cat King turned into the shadows, smiling into the gravel, pretending not to have heard Edwin's laugh from afar.
Five minutes later, Edwin returned to the agency, coat smoothed out to discourage rumors. "What took you so long?" asked Charles. "Don't tell me that furball tried to get frisky with you again."
“Conducting a business deal takes time, Charles,” Edwin replied coolly. He didn't even have to look at Crystal and Niko to know what they were thinking. “Charles?”
“What is it, Ed?”
“I think we’re going to need a cat flap. For the door.”
Notes:
Collide (Solo Version) - Justine Skye
Tsurikkumen tsu erd - "Return to earth" in Yiddish, golems are historically from Jewish folklore.
Chapter 10: Show Me How
Summary:
Yes, the Cat King is now an official part of the team, we love it, we adore it. But back onto that second kiss bit- do you really think either of them forgot that?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
One of the first calls the Cat King made to the Dead Boy Detectives agency was for a ghost he’d encountered in Port Townsend- a former botany enthusiast looking to banish the poisonous rot that was trying to take over their plants- which they had decided to donate to Plant Lovers in London, of course.
“People take their green thumbs pretty seriously in this side of Washington,” the Cat King informed them by way of explanation.
So, naturally, that meant the gang was out to spend the day forest foraging through Port Townsend, looking for the herbs that would complete Edwin’s banishing spell. But, given they had a whole day to do it, and they were an independently run organization, they decided to have a little fun with the task.
With the flowers they came across, Niko had taken to making bouquets for the shopkeepers she’d befriended in town. Charles, having been so happy with the flower crown Crystal made for him, insisted she teach him as well.
Meanwhile, never one to slack on the job, Edwin was poking through the weeds and plant life, trying to find something adjacent to the replica in his book. The Cat King was lingering back with him giving advice on what to look for- sound, thoughtful bits like, “Nope, that’s not it.”
Edwin dropped his magnifying glass in the book out of exasperation. “You know, if you spend all your time bragging about your exquisite sense of smell, it drives someone to think you might actually use it to help.”
”It's not always what's it's cracked up to be- spring has sprung in this damn place, and that never works wonders for the senses,” the Cat King shot back. Still, he added the bunch of feverfew that Edwin picked from the ground to the basket. “I’ll tell you when you’re warm.”
”Thank you, that shall be much appreciated.”
A soft bubble of laughter burst sweetly in the corner of Edwin's periphery, drawing him to look at Crystal laughing at Charles' attempts at weaving the flowers together, placing it gently over her curls. Edwin had gotten used to seeing them display public acts of affection for each other; he wasn't as jealous as he used to be, but still. It was a little strange watching your friend be so close to someone that wasn't you, a little sad knowing that kind of closeness wasn't something you could have access to.
The Cat King, knowingly tracking his gaze, decided to implement his mastery of subject changing into the question,“So, how’s that second kiss coming along? No targets?”
Of course, he did succeed in pulling Edwin's focus back to him, in a method which the latter was not entirely opposed to. “While you’re improving marvelously on your subtlety, I’m afraid I must decline.” The Cat King pouted in a show of disappointment. “No one new, yet, it’s still… on the list. Very far down, given how long we were away from London.”
"Never know when it could move up," said the Cat King, smiling at Edwin's deadpan frown. "Life does tend to change the orders of our lists in funny ways."
The funny thing about the Cat King becoming an official part of the agency was how seamlessly he'd managed to fit into its fantastical, dysfunctional manner. The dark gray cat that would sunbathe on their shelf of knickknacks during a research period. The velvety roll and rumble of his voice blending into the background as Edwin was poring through a case file, through dirty jokes and smart jabs. And moments like these where Edwin was the one he was talking to- conversations he never thought they'd have in seriousness, where one wasn't trying to back the other into a dark corner just to see what happened, conversations he'd thought exclusive to Charles or Niko. But it was strange- relentlessly, they were honest with each other.
"You know you don't have to humor me with this talk," Edwin said, the pair of them walking side by side. "Given your repertoire of past experience, a kiss is most likely nothing to you."
"A kiss is never nothing," the Cat King corrected, only surprising Edwin a little. "Even if it's with a friend, or family, or someone who might as well be, it always means something. Even if you don't want it to."
Briefly, Edwin's mind flashed to the lily that had been the cat's parting gift to him, the chandelier he'd brought with him into the forest when telling Edwin about Monty's true plan (upon being asked, he'd confessed it was for the lighting). He supposed it wasn't too much of a surprise that the Cat King was something of a romantic. "But truly you don't think it's foolish? That after one-hundred-and-ten years of being on this earth, my first kiss was only three months ago?"
"And it was with a bird, after you recontextualized your whole relationship with your best friend. Really decided to speedrun 'making the most of a vacation.'" Edwin rolled his eyes up to the much less aggravating sun. "Everyone's got different times for everything- yours wasn't exactly what you planned, but first kisses are just like that. Meant to suck a little. Honestly, you're lucky if they're even any good."
With Monty, Edwin had mostly been too astonished to acknowledge if it had been truly notable. But, if even the Cat King was saying such, he supposed it was relieving that he wasn't a particular anomaly from a universal experience. "Well, that... does put a little bit of a damper on things."
"Reality bites. Especially when you don't like it to." Still, the Cat King shrugged. "It's alright if you've thought about what you actually want it to be like, though. With all those old fashioned sensibilities out of the way."
Edwin allowed a dry smile at the callback. “I suppose I have," he admitted, "now that I've... considered what it'd be like, with the kind of person I'd like it to be with." The Cat King obliged him in a round of quiet, cordial claps in applause. "I'd want to choose him. Want it to be someone who I’ve thought about it being with. Like it to actually matter, for me and for him. Ideally, it would be someone who I actually care for, who won’t throw it away, or use it against me, or sell me out to a psychotic youth-stealing witch.”
The Cat King nodded his approval. "I'd think that much goes pretty much as a given."
Lightly, Edwin scoffed. "One would assume so."
The Cat King chuckled, softer than its usual sonority. “The first kiss is all for the experience. The second, well. That’s when you know something. What to expect, what to want. What to give back. That’s the one you want to make matter." His eyelids dimmed over their footsteps, glazing over the little clovers below. "The one you save for someone you dream of. The last person you see before you close your eyes at night.”
Edwin... well. He wasn't exactly falling, at that sentiment. Somehow, he still was perfectly upright, both mentally and physically. But something in his chest felt like it was sinking into something soft and downy, like a pile of flannel blankets, warming him in a place that felt suspiciously like his unbeating heart. Like it had been there for a while, and was just wrapping itself tighter in the feeling.
Eyes sliding back up to Edwin, the Cat King's usual loose grin made its reappearance, him bumping Edwin's shoulder with his own. “Don’t worry, I’m no thief. I got my kiss from Edwin Payne in the end. Until the time, you keep that kiss safe.”
However, pivoting briefly in front of Edwin, so close he could catch the scent of his cologne, all dry woody and exquisite lavender hints, he whispered, “I’ll leave that much to you.”
And he left Edwin just enough time to step back as he went up in a poof of purple fire, running off in cat form to Niko for pets.
"Edwin!" Charles called. "Over here, mate, we got you something!"
Tearing his eyes from the Cat King, Edwin picked up the basket he'd left on the ground and made his way over to the grove where Charles and Crystal were rushing towards him. "What is-" Eagerly, before he could finish his sentence, Charles slipped the loop of daisies around his neck over his overcoat. "What is this?"
"Flower necklace!" Charles answered, beaming. "Crystal taught me how to make it!"
"It was a little too big for the head, but we thought it would work just as well," Crystal chimed.
A gust of wind whistled past, tickling Edwin's neck with the flowers grazing his nape. "It works beautifully," he laughed, even more so at Charles' happy cheer. "Thank you, Charles."
"Any day, mate," he replied faithfully. "Come on! Set down the hunt for a bit, join us!"
He set Edwin's basket on the ground, and the three detectives knelt in the grass, giggling at the scenario. At the kids they were supposed to be, but never got the chance.
Looking at Charles' easy sunshine smile, Edwin knew he would always love it, as well as the days when he wasn't smiling, and Edwin had to be the strong one for him. But looking at the cat weaving through Niko's arms, butting her hand open for giggling affection, well. He was happy with that too.
Notes:
Show Me How - Men I Trust (cover by pearl, fast forward >>)
Chapter 11: Sit Next to Me
Summary:
Another day with CatWin, and while we’ve been seeing it from the start, our boys are finally starting to get it. And you know that it’s when the friends get involved.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
‘Research,’ they said- research for the Port Townsend job of quieting a banshee with penchant for screaming classic rock from the windows of the old antique store. It was the only way Edwin would let the Cat King and Niko out of the office they’d set up in one of the many dimensions of his palace.
But, if you phrased it just right, research could have the definition of anything.
For the Cat King and Niko, ‘research’ was taking her laptop to a boardwalk table and splitting a strawberry-chocolate drizzled funnel cake over Doctor Who.
"Ten's gotta be like, the best regeneration ever," the Cat King declared. "He has the best wardrobe, best episodes, hands down."
"That's the coldest Doctor Who take ever," Niko told him. Just by the look on his face, she knew who Ten reminded him of; there were some things that people just didn't have to say for her to know. “I’ve done this with Edwin before.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah- except we watched Scooby Doo. He was super cute about it, since he never watched cartoons like that before. Said Mystery Incorporated were some of the most skilled detectives he knew.”
The Cat King's endeared smile had nothing to do with the character onscreen. “‘Course he did.” He speared another bite of funnel cake, going specifically for the pieces covered in chocolate sauce. “That’s right, I hooked up with a Fred once.”
“Really?" said Niko. "What was that like?”
“Typical to a 70’s Halloween party- loud, smoky, somewhat blinding. He was a bleach blonde instead of a natural, but the ascot worked, so.” Amiable shrug, Niko nodded in agreement. “But he insisted on tying it around my wrists, which ruined the effect a little."
"Ew..."
"Yeah. He was a little sloppier than I would’ve liked too, but, y’know. I gave it a six outta ten.”
"Hm." Niko watched him from his side profile, snuck her own bite of a strawberry piece. “Sounds like you’d do better with a real detective.”
She didn't have to say the name; who else would she be talking about, Charles? “You got anyone in mind?”
"I mean, he's kind of the whole reason you're here, so I don't think I'd be such a brilliant matchmaker if I tried setting you up with anyone else."
"Touché."
Niko never believed in beating around the bush- if the bush was right there, why not just spare the time and walk right up to it? Sure would make it feel more appreciated. "What do you like about Edwin?" she asked, turning herself towards the king. "I mean, if it's a thing that can be put into words- I know a lot of feelings can't do that. But it's got to be something, if you've been commuting to London for two months just to be around him."
"I wouldn't sayjusthim," the Cat King contested. "I've taken a liking to this little connection we have, haven't I?"
"Yeah, but you didn't show up to the agency in that tailcoat for me when Edwin admitted Matthew Macfayden's Darcy was hot."
The Cat King sorely pitied anyone who tried to make an opponent out of Niko Sasaki; she would have them waving the white flag in seconds with nothing but sheer, crushing sincerity. "And your point is?"
Sparing a glance at the computer screen, Niko considerately turned David Tennant's volume down. "I know it's taken a while for you to get to a point where you acknowledge the others in the agency aside from Edwin, but he's mattered to you for a while. And for reasons that not everyone really understands. Like, love at first sight exists for sure, but I've got a feeling that there's a lot more to it than that."
From the start of her speech, Niko had watched the Cat King's eyes dim in retrospection; if he had cat ears, they definitely would have flattened. "It means a lot to me that we can be like this too," she told him earnestly, placing a hand over his on the table. "But Edwin was kind of the first person to believe in me, to make me believe that I could be a great detective in the agency, and, I don't know if you've noticed, but he has trouble believing in himself. Even though he's super amazing. Like, only when he got to Port Townsend did he realize he could like a guy and nothing bad would happen to him, and. Well, obviously, you've never hidden how you feel about him."
The Cat King chuckled. "Obviously."
"This whole..." Niko waved a hand at the Cat King's flowy button-up patterned with red carnations. "Enemies to lovers thing you guys have going, it's toned down into this slow burn that I didn't know a guy like you would be capable of." She planted her chin in her hand. "I guess I just want to know why."
"... What do you mean by 'a guy like me?'"
"I think you already know."
And damn. It wasn't like the Cat King didn't know her worries. It hadn't been more than a week since Edwin had gifted him with the Dead Boy Detectives business card- even with that trust, his position in the group was still fragile. Scooby could still be kicked out to the streets, if he made a wrong move. But he could let at least Niko know he understood.
”I know why Edwin’s got his reservations, as do the rest of the agency,” he started with care, “and that I maybe didn’t make the best impression on you guys, even though I showed interest right off the bat in your leading man.”
”And expressed that by trapping him in town.”
”You guys arenevergoing to let me live that down, are you?”
”No- but keep going! You were doing so good!”
If only just for you.The Cat King sighed. “Contrary to popular belief, it isn’t about the physical possession of him- althoughit certainly does help that he’s got that classic suit-and-tie kinda look about him.” Niko teasingly punched his shoulder. “It's who he is beneath those layers- everything else.”
He told Niko about what he’d see through his cat’s eyes and from afar, how he’d sent them out because he couldn’t stop thinking about Edwin’s intelligence and determination, his sincere goodness and the way he moved about the world, how it just made him even more fascinating. All it took was a moment in his sharp, perfectly curated, cryptic presence to make the Cat King drunk on the feeling; greedy of the idea that even if Edwin’s desires didn’t match his, he could still open him up more to that universe- not some stupid crow. The Cat King didn’t really care that Edwin was into Charles- there wasn’t a soul who didn’t know about that -but he knew where Edwin came from, an age where shame was viewed as humility, and where all the wantings in his big, bruised heart were seen as criminal, as wrong, and, having been stuck in a place where the punishment was eternal, Edwin had never really been able to work those feelings out of their suppression. And that, if the Cat King had any say in the matter, was a crime of its own damning nature.
Over his many centuries of living, the Cat King had developed an eye and a taste for beautiful things. The most engaging to look upon never asked for attention- and Edwin most definitely never had to ask for his. The truth of it was he was just so beautiful in so many ways; so many little moments, like when he was wearing his spectacles to work out a potion, or poring through books, sassing at Crystal and Charles, pulling on those cursed gloves, even something as simple as a smile hidden behind a glance. Edwin Paine was a treasure from the era of the Hope Diamond, a one of a kind, still convinced he was lost under the waves, that he didn’t need the light that craved him. Even if the Cat King couldn’t bring his own weird, mushy, and honestly pretty embarrassing feelings to light, he could at least make him get the gist of that.
”To conclude this lovely sentiment,” the Cat King finalized, eyes staring through the wood grain of the table. “I want to make Edwin feel as extraordinary as he is to me, and to accept that for himself as the truth.”
If it weren’t for the pigeon five feet away pecking at someone’s abandoned nachos, Niko would have started tearing up right there. “I think it’s good.” The Cat King glanced testily up at her. “Obviously, it started kind of toxic, but I think you’ve been getting better these past few weeks. You’re actually trying by helping him in something he really cares about.”
He did seem to add that as a point to his newly-forming good-guy ego. Niko placed a hand on his shoulder to tone it down. “Edwin’s still really fragile right now- I mean, he’s just come back from hell, Esther’s torture, and been rejected by the guy he likes, but if you ask me, I think he deserves someone who’s kind of borderline obsessed with him.”
The Cat King choked on his own laugh. “You don’t skimp on the truth, do you?”
“Not really, no.”
”… Niko, I do hope this can turn into quite a lasting friendship.”
“Me too.” She beamed at him, turning up Doctor Who again. “Friends are always good to have around.”
Later on that same week, Edwin himself came to that same realization.
It was simply what had gotten to be another afternoon at the agency, Charles interviewing a client in the next room over while Edwin looked over their files, Crystal leafing through possible suspects in the death, while the Cat King and Niko blathered on about something semi-related.
Except instead of working, Edwin was staring off into the unforeseeable unknown, and had been doing so for such a while that Crystal had to set aside her own work just to see what was up.
"Hey," Crystal whispered, trying not to spook him. "Is everything o-"
“His nose wrinkles when he laughs," Edwin murmured.
Crystal blinked. "Wh- sorry, what?" And then, following his gaze, she realized he wasn't looking at nothing.
Over on the sofa, Niko with one of her mangas in hand, the Cat King was perched on the ledge, parrying her words with a rapid fire reply and seemingly constant smile. Neither seemed to even notice Edwin watching from afar like it was one of his most favorite things: a mystery. "It's baffling, isn't it?"
What was baffling to Crystal was how the hell she was going to have to break this news to Charles- it was unavoidable now. “Okay... um. Edwin, I’m gonna be blunt here.”
“There are rare occasions when you are anything else.”
Crystal inhaled stiffly, determined to rise above the urge to smack him. “You can… hit me with your file, or ask Charles for his sword, if it sounds that crazy, but.” Her pause was too long for a lighter subject; it was enough to get Edwin to look at her. "Edwin," she started cautiously. “I think you like the Cat King.”
This time it was Edwin's turn to blink away his shock. A double take turned into triple, quadruple. Then denial won over, plastering a thin smile over his lips as he shook his head, returned to the file. "No," he replied deftly, flipping the next page. "No, of course not, don't be silly. With such a tone you adapted, I thought you were going to bring about something serious."
"AndIthought you were actually going to listen to me for a change, but nope, guess we're still living in denial."
"I am denyingnothing-I am merely trying to return to my task, rather than being distracted with such- silly dalliances, like- me and the Cat King, that's utterly ridiculous."
"You didn't even read the page you were on, but you turned it anyway."
"And what does that have to do with anything?"
"Edwin," Crystal started.
"Crystal," Edwin shot back, tuning a challenging glare up at her.
Their budding argument was obliterated by the laughter that exploded through the room, the one that made Charles dip his head in and shout, "Oi, Whiskers! Shove it, will you, I'm on the phone!"
But God. Edwin had forgotten entirely what he'd been talking about with the psychic at his shoulder. He was looking at nothing except his case in point: the Cat King, head tossed back, cackling in ephemeral glee, nose scrunched, eyes closing as his gregarious smile took up the rest of his face. His hand was rising, raking back the hair that looked bronze in the sunlight streaming in through the window, waves that were less defended by product these days, and for just a second he was looking back at Edwin, all incorrigible and effortless charm, just delighting in the fact that he could.
Crystal's arms were folded over her chest, not out of smugness but just what she knew all along. "I rest my case."
And Edwin felt his worldview tilt off kilter, push him off his feet, finally into the downward spiral. “Oh," he said softly. "Oh, no.”
And he pushed off the wheels of his swivel chair and straight into the nearest mirror, leaving Crystal to stare and splutter after him, becausewhycouldn't he have at least acknowledged she was right, before she gave in and strode off to her own room.
Next thing Edwin was completely sure of, he was pacing the floor of Crystal's bedroom, ranting to the psychic sitting cross-legged on her bed and the nihilistic butcher who'd gotten dragged in by the drama.
" - how could I not even haverealizedit until now? Just when I think I've got a handle on these silly things, f*cking-emotions,andromance,and all that utter rubbish. And him? Why, God, why did it have to be him?"
"If it makes you feel any better, it's not like he's gonna turn you down," Crystal offered. "Like, he's kinda made that clear since he came back."
"Wait, so theyhaven'tf*cked?" asked Jenny. "I thought the guy was like, Satan, or something."
"He's a Cat King, Jenny, his eyes just look like that."
"Satan would've been cooler." A beat. "God, what the f*ck am I even saying anymore."
"This is acrisis!"Edwin wailed, flailing his arms out. "I mean- God, what do I even do?"
"Him," Crystal and Jenny unisoned.
But that just made Edwin burn up even more. "That was how the entirethingbetween us started," he rambled on. "Him chasing me around, saying he was- fascinated by me, tempting me with every moment in his presence, saying he liked my secret parts, that I didn't have to pretend with him- that he died for me-"
"Whoa," said Jenny. "That's intense."
"Exactly! And I spent so long thinking that it was all he wanted, just that-momentwith me, where I gave in to him, and then he'd move on to some other toy, some other game, and- oh God." Edwin stumbled to a stop, wide eyed. "I don't know if it's a game anymore."
"Jesus Christ, you're a goner," mused Crystal.
But Edwin was swaying in place, pitching right and left, so visibly concerning that Jenny eventually gave in beyond her confusion to the better natures that sat him on the bed between her and Crystal, steadying his body to catch up with his mind. "I..." he attempted. "I ama detective.”
Jenny leaned over his head towards Crystal. "Did you explain to him how coming out works?"
"Shh!"
“I am a detective," Edwin repeated, trying again. "I am used to riddles, to solving cases, cracking things, taking the time to figure them out. With the Cat King, it's… nothing is hidden. Everything he says is what he means, everything he feels he makes known… and yet I have never been so mystified by anything. By anyone. I can hardly fathom it.”
"Edwin, I get it," Crystal soothed. "It's okay if that's how you feel about it."
"But I can't!" Edwin protested. “I can’t have feelings for him- not when I know what he is which is… juvenile, and vain, and greedy and brash, and, and consistently lewd, when there are other personality traits a person can possess!”
"Have you ever thought that maybe that’s not how you know him anymore?” Despite himself, despite the everything raging in his head, Edwin went fitfully quiet. "He's shown a lot more to him than I even thought existed- honestly, it's pretty shocking for me too."
Jenny tried for a comforting hand on the ghost's shoulder, surprising them both. "From what it sounds like, this guy was kind of a dick when you met him," she said, Crystal nodding in outside confirmation. "And I'm not saying that he wascompletelya dick, or that redemption arcs can remake everyone, but. People can change for the better. And when it happens, it's usually because they've been inspired by someone else to open their hearts more."
Edwin lingered on the precipice of her sentence:open their heart.He certainly was no stranger to the desires in the Cat King's heart, given how subject to them he made sure to make him in his time at Port Townsend. What if that had come to expand, without Edwin even realizing it? Perhaps something really had changed between us, that last day when I revealed to him what we both shared. What if, with every new piece of the Cat King he unearthed, he held it closer to himself than he had ever imagined?
And it got Edwin thinking about how he had come to know the Cat King in the past:that first night with the fur coat and absolutely nothing under it that burned into Edwin's brain, the flamboyance and the smirks and the completely unabashed truths. When he transposed them over the present, it was as if his point of view became brighter, like the sun had come out after a gray storm: the night after the Cat King's first job with the agency, sharing a sliver of vulnerability with Edwin, those tender looks he slipped at Edwin when the weight on his shoulders didn't feel so heavy, the genuine excitement he showed at receiving the business card and entering the agency, like he was finally being let in on something truly special.
There were still those other moments, of course, that Edwin had learned to always associate with the Cat King: the filthy jokes and the too-close touches that never failed to make Edwin’s heart race, but it was also the newer moments when he was rolling his eyes at Charles, grinning at Niko, snarking at something Crystal said and scratching the head of some little street cat. Moments when the Cat King was with Edwin, content to be around nobody else, passing him supplies and defending him on jobs, listening to him talk about his days at the boarding school, instances when he let Edwin see behind his guard, read into what was really going on in that colorful, kaleidoscopic mind.
And Edwin's heart felt that flowery kind of soft again, like it was surrounded by warmth and safety, a purring cat circled around a fire. Maybe it wasn't so bad, if this was the feeling. If it was more than physical, more than he'd ever imagined it would be, maybe it was reasonable, perhaps inescapable that he had started falling for the Cat King of Port Townsend.
Notes:
Sit Next to Me - Foster The People
Chapter 12: Mr Porcelain
Summary:
Man I love writing just soft bits of fluff, these two really need more to their story, and if Netflix decides to be a little bitch, f*ck it, I’ll do it myself.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
For most emergencies, Edwin tended to be well prepared. It was why he always had that notebook on him- so he could keep a collection of enough tricks to get himself out of a jam. And most of the time, he had a dependable circle of others to help him, if such assistance was needed.
But this emergency was unlike the others he'd dealt with in the past. Edwin had reached a breaking point where he actually was ready to admit defeat, and everyone else in the agency was gone- Charles and Crystal to collect the client of yesterday's completed job, and Niko with Jenny to scope out new clients for the rebirth of the Tongue and Tail. It was Edwin's own fault- he'd given them all the out, deeming every usual suspect out of range.
Which left...
The doorbell barely rang once before Edwin threw it open; the Cat King didn't even lean off the frame. "You know you're about five hours ahead of me in time difference?"
"Was I interrupting your afternoon during anything important?"
"I was actually going to call and tell you guys that old Mick found this white Persian cat who only answers to the name Lilith," the Cat King started, now taking in Edwin's bedraggled appearance fully with belated amusem*nt. "But now I don't know if that's the most important thing on the table."
"Quite an astute observation," Edwin quipped, stalking off with the door open for him to walk through.
The Cat King made a slow turn around the room, giving a low whistle at the knickknacks on the shelf now littering the floor with books, cabinets open and ransacked. "Jesus. Were we robbed?"
"By what I'm coming to believe is my own insanity," said Edwin. "Which, neither Charles nor Crystal nor Niko are here to treat, so I had to resort to the aid of an outside source."
"I'm touched," the Cat King simpered dryly. Edwin himself was his own definition of a wreck, a detail which had not gone unnoticed by his voyeur. Having wrought his hands through it so many times, his hair had lost the composure so often given to it by product. His vest had been left draped over his chair, leaving him in nothing but suspended slacks, a rolled-up dress shirt, and loosely tied shoes.
However, if it was of any importance to the cat, it only turned up the wattage in his Chesire smile. “Well, given I’ve only just arrived at your door and already you’ve got half your clothes off, I fail to see the problem we’re having.”
Annoyed but desperate, Edwin let it pass for the sake of time. "Do you remember the job we did yesterday?"
"Do I... you're asking if I remember the job, that I was present for,literallyyesterday, where our little Mystery Inc. band ran through a whole f*cking labyrinth for a necklace?" He phrased the question with all the obviousness it should have held, but Edwin nodded vigorously. "Wow. Okay, I know Crystal made that jab about immortality giving me the memory of a goldfish, but it isn't thatbad."
"Necklace of the Lady of the Lake, for a more specific answer," Edwin refuted to the Cat King rolling his eyes. "Do you remember what happened after we got it?"
"Yeah, Charles started yapping about how because his sword got the killing blow the questing beast, he was now the King of Avalon, even though that's not how it works-"
"Notthat.Afterwards, when Niko almost got her nose sliced off with that tripwire arrow- the disclaimer we all had to sign, remember?"
"Hold up,that?"the Cat King enunciated. "You mean the most tame part of the whole night, signing a piece of paper? Of course I remember it! f*ckin' ridiculous, like we were leaving an amusem*nt park or something. Modern sensitivities in this world even f*cked up the Arthurian parts."
"Returning to the disclaimer," Edwin backtracked (though not out of disagreement). "Everyone signed it, brought it back to the agency, called it a night." The Cat King nodded slowly so as not to break his brain at six-thirty in the morning. "Do you remember where we put it?"
"I... I'm sorry, that'swhat all this is about?"
"Of course it is! We can't confirm completion of the job without it, but Charles went out to fetch Sir Pelleas' ancestor, and Crystal went with him, and Niko went out withJennyto go discussmeat investorsforbutchery,and I told everyone it was fine, I've got it all under control, when I most definitely do notat the moment, which means I cannot even trust my own mind-"
"Edwin, Ed, hey," the Cat King rushed up to the ghost, placing his hands over his shoulders. "Relax, just-" Edwin actually captured the minute his brain lost the script. "I was gonna say breathe, but you don't need to do that, so. Take a minute. Down boy." He walked Edwin gently backwards, leaning him lightly on the desk before stepping back. "Now. What is the last thing you remember of last night?"
"What do you mean the last thing? Everything!"
"Really? Even Crystal scaring the crap out of that Nando's worker with her powers so she could get that chicken sandwich after midnight?"
"And the strawberry milkshake she got for Niko, yes, everything! I was sorting through the files the ancestor gave us when the sun rose!"
The Cat King stared at him in bewilderment, likely unable to comprehend a being that did not need nor value their beauty sleep. "You haven't stopped working since yesterday?"
"Well, if you've the ability to keep your eyes open and head straight, then its the least one can do, isn't it?" Going off the cat's furrowed confusion, Edwin sniped, "Not everyone gets the luxury of sleeping in 'till the evening."
The Cat King rolled his eyes. "You justloveto assume you know exactly where my head's at," he muttered. "Okay, and then after we got back to the agency. What then?"
Edwin pointed his head down, trying to focus. "We stayed in the office for a bit longer, Niko going on about the symbolism behind that new anime she's watching... what was it, Revolutionary Girl... Utena, I think?" The Cat King nodded impatiently, windmilled his hand to go on. "Right, she tried to get us to watch it with her, but Crystal went to her room to sleep, Charles went with her, and you went with Niko." Edwin scoffed. "You turned into a bloody cat just so she would carry you."
"The girl's magic, I tell you- she knows exactly the right spot to scratch between the ears."
Edwin shook his head, tamping down a smirk. "And then I went to sort through the ancestor's files- truly, she did not need to supply us with so much, but I suppose I understand wanting to be sure we knew the difference between lore and accuracy." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to dig deeper back. His head was so full of casework he could barely remember much else. "Blast, where did weputthe damn thing?"
"All work and no play makes Edwin averydull boy," the Cat King mused sympathetically. "Can you remember who had it first when we got out?"
"Hmm... I remember, I think it was Charles first, he was going to put it in his bag of tricks, but Crystal and I weren't too sure, given that nearly fatal incident with the djinn lamp and the grenade, so I insisted on keeping it in my pocket. Thenyoucat-snatched it away and threatened to drop it into the Thames." Edwin opened his eyes. "This whole thing is your fault, isn't it?"
"No, it isn't-why would I keep something that my cats would shred for kicks? It was for the bit- Crystal took it from me, whacked me over the head with it, anyway. But she gave me her fries, so we're even."
"Right, that's what happened." When it had been just Edwin and Charles, there was a lot less chaos. But much less life, as well."Wasn't the Night Nurse there as well?"
"Yeah- she said something about keeping it for safety reasons. But Niko wanted to see if she could get a frame for it," the Cat King recalled, cat's eyes slowly filling with the realization. "So..."
Niko, you truly do live in the clouds. "Blast it- sheforgot,"Edwin realized, dumping his face in his hands. "That means it... it's in her room somewhere, could be in her coat, her bag, or..."
"Or," the Cat King mused. A gentlewhooshgot Edwin to lift his head; the document, still sealed with the red swan sigil, held out to him by the tips of the Cat King's fingers. "You could have it now."
Edwin took the scroll tentatively; when it didn't disappear from his touch, he sagged into a sigh of relief. "Oh, God, that was too much worry," he exhaled. "All for a bloody piece of paper."
"And something we could have very well fabricated," the Cat King added. In another extension, something far from a joke: "You carry too much for your own good."
"Perhaps," Edwin admitted. "That was foolish of me, wasn't it? Wrecking this whole agency for a disclaimer?"
"Oh, this?" With a violet wave of the Cat King's hand, everything was neat and tidy as had been before, not a book out of place. "Light work. You, however, require much more attention."
When Edwin was calmed down, had combed himself out enough to stand before the mirror by the desk, the Cat King took his own place on the windowsill next to it, transferring Edwin's bowtie, waistcoat, and suit jacket still on the hangers to dangle from his arm for Edwin to take. It was a new development indeed, that feline face watching him dress, more intimate than he thought it would be, but the taste of it was unexpectedly sweet, like fresh milk and tea in the mornings, warmth blooming in his stomach.
Once his bowtie was complete, Edwin moved on to the buttons of his waistcoat, connecting them successfully save for the threat of a few straggling tremors. When he reached for the collar of his blazer, the Cat King dipped it the slightest bit out of reach.
“Let me.”
Edwin did nothing, said nothing, just stood stock-still as the Cat King tactfully took the his coat into his own hands, opened it up by the lapels for Edwin to slide his arms into, familiar yet unfamiliar in the hands that smoothed the creases out of the fabric on his shoulders, but not unwelcome.
Meeting the Cat King’s eyes through the mirror, Edwin asked: “So? Will it do?”
The Cat King didn't miss a single beat. “Perfectly.”
Charles called at seven on the dot, telling Edwin he was on his way. With only his tousled hair to take care of, Edwin headed to the bathroom, brought out the pomade from the cabinet.
The Cat King paused for a moment in the open door, watched him just begin to unscrew the top, and, almost without his mind, he blurted: “Keep it loose.”
Edwin turned, wide green eyes and hands just reaching for his hair to see the Cat King looking back,lips parted around some absent sentence starter, something that briefly sounded like “It’s,” but lost its way when he saw the inquisitive look on Edwin's face, the morning sun painting soft light over his pale skin, fringed by curt dark brown locks that weren’t made swept up away from it.
Swallowing the words back, the Cat King left, sheepish for what felt like the first time that Edwin had known him. The ghost turned back to the mirror, lowered his hand, took a moment to recognize the unmade face looking back at him as his own.
Later in the day, Edwin was poring through another ancient leather tome with the Cat King back at the agency, curled up by his left side, arms folded on the cleared desk spot to nest his head. Everything about his appearance was the same as it had always been: precise, spotless, dapper as ever. But his hair was devoid of product, and the short strands bowing forward had caught in the afternoon sun.
As he read, Edwin absently brushed them behind his ear, an action that did not go unnoticed by his companion. But rather than point it out aloud, the Cat King enjoyed it in silence, releasing a dulcet, almost purrlike sigh that tipped his head into the crook of his elbow, eyes watching Edwin always.
Edwin acknowledged it in a glance, laughed softly at the attention on him, at the glow he could feel in his veins because of it, and continued reading.
”I think the Cat King's pupils just dilated,” Niko whispered to Crystal.
Charles, studying them in the armchair in place of his own work, couldn't help but voice his own curiosity. “When the hell did they become less horny and more… soft?”
”Just let it happen, Char,” Crystal told him, happy enough to leave the pair to it.
Notes:
Mr Porcelain - Jude York
Chapter 13: Opera House
Summary:
With another introspective into the Cat King's side of things, we get a visit from the Sandman universe with a certain cat-eyed member of the Endless giving their take on how he should move things forward with Edwin.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Now, it certainly wasn’t every day that a member of the Endless family made their way down to earth for a social call- Desire never left their gallery for anyone but Despair if they could help it.
But when one’s favorite bastard child called them up down to London for drinks and the promise of a particularly interesting conversation, well. Certain exceptions could be made.
Under the dingy sepia-soaked lights of the dive, the Cat King was seated at the bar, joined by a whiskey glass at his right and a Cosmopolitan on the empty stool at his left. If he seemed any bit surprised when Desire slipped into the space only a minute late in the ivory peacoat they saved specifically for the vibes of midnight London, he left it at only a brief acknowledgement. “If I’d known you wanted to be seen tonight, I could’ve set us up near the London Eye.”
“With so much foot traffic? Walking and talking is far too overrated.” Desire sipped the drink so generously procured for them, looked at the Cat King with eyes that matched his own. “Talk to me, dear Thomas. What’s the newest with you?”
The Cat King smiled wryly; no one but Desire ever pushed aside his own title so flippantly. No one else had the authority. “I’m afraid the answer will only disappoint you.”
“Well, as long as you’re not trying to bring acid-washed jeans back into fashion, I’m sure that can remain somewhat untrue.” He responded only by swirling his drink in his glass, gazing despondently at the liquor inside. “Ah. Are you still mooning over that ghost boy you met in Washington?”
“First of all, I am not mooning-”
“Oh, no.” Desire halted him, pointed out the window. “Can you tell me what time it is?”
The Cat King’s brows furrowed. “Twelve…?”
“And what is that big white ball in the sky?”
“Des.”
“Have you really not brought him to bed yet? Three months after I so graciously advised you to travel to London and help him with his little case shenanigans as a way to insert yourself into his life? I didn’t raise you to be so timid.”
“You didn’t,” the Cat King amended. “Edwin knows how I feel about him- I mean, there isn’t much point in hiding it, is there?”
Desire nodded in as much approval as they could dispel. “So, has he rejected you? And you called the giver of your nine lives here to help you drink away your sadness?” They obliged in lifting the Cosmo to their lips once more. “He must have been especially cruel for you to need my help in piecing your ego back together.”
“No, it isn’t like that,” he chuckled. “And he wouldn’t, not without taking my calling card away from me.” The Cat King drew the Dead Boy’s business card out of the breast pocket of his aviator jacket. “I’m sure he’s felt the urge to since giving it to me- I certainly haven’t made it easy for him, or his company. But, alas, Edwin is…” The Cat King let his name rest on his tongue, smile at the salty-sweet taste that his whiskey couldn’t have carried. “A gentleman.”
“A gentleman,” Desire echoed coyly. “A rarity indeed.”
“They just don’t make them like him anymore,” the Cat King sighed. “Hell, I don’t even know if the 1900’s had any control- he probably jumped off the assembly line to chase after a good book.”
Desire took him in, then, the little romantic seated next to them. “Goodness,” they purred. “How long has it been since you were in love?”
The Cat King slouched his chin onto his hand with a shrug. “Last time I felt anything close was the 60’s,” he confessed. “But this doesn’t feel like that.” Desire frowned, waited for an explanation, but he just shrugged. “It’s different. It’s more.”
“Different how? I thought you said he knew you.”
“He does. We know each other.” More than the Cat King ever thought he would, but he’d give no less credit to Edwin’s detective skills. “It’s just delicate. Still feeling like a new thing, every day. Because each one actually means something.” He placed the business card next to his drink, staring at the enamel film. “I don’t think he really expected me to return to him. I didn’t know if I had the strength to test disappointing him.”
“Well, you’re proving the both of you wrong,” said Desire, uncrossing their black leather knee-highs to swivel around towards him. “Pray tell, if you’ve already taken your emotions into account, what is this really about?”
And the king took a minute, marinated in the callow, rather humiliating question he was about to ask before giving into the burn of his liquor and tentatively looking at Desire sidelong.
“… How do you know if a guy likes you?”
The grand, Endless being almost left behind eons of curated dignity behind right there. “I think I just heard Lucifer’s demons burst into laughter.” The Cat King groaned into the ceiling. “You developed devout feelings for an Edwardian ghost detective, and somehow you are the one who is engaged in 18th century yearning!”
“I know, okay? I know how it sounds!”
“Didn’t you say there was someone else involved? A best friend? Isn’t your ghost in love with him?”
“He used to be. I mean, sometimes, I still think it’s possible- Charles literally pulled him out of hell, adding onto the fact that they’ve known each other for almost forty years. But I didn’t think about that when I came back.” Desire co*cked a finely penciled brow. “I knew from the start Edwin’s love wasn’t for me- anyone with eyes could see that much. I just wanted to be around him. See him open up into someone who wouldn’t punish himself for what he felt.” And now that the Cat King had seen that and more, he was sure that Edwin had had absolutely no reason to call him in for that first job at the agency. “I don’t know if I could ever deserve it, but he hasn’t pushed me away just yet.”
“Because he knows the two of you share something that is deeper than just desire.” The Cat King glanced at them, almost accusatory. “To want possession of someone’s physicality is basic- such an agreement can be made easily if both parties are consenting.” His gaze dropped to the wood grain bar; Desire followed their descent. “But to long for a place in their thoughts, space in their home, in their hearts. To trust that their arms will open to you when you need their embrace, and eyes will look upon yours with the same fervor. I don’t need to tell you that’s much more dangerous.”
“It hasn’t stopped feeling that way since I came back,” the Cat King murmured. “It’s more than just the nights that I want to spend with him.” It was the mornings they already spent bickering over books and old arcana, afternoon banter between jobs, evenings trading barbs that edged on flirting. “If things go south, I don’t know how I’ll be able to bounce back from it. If I could.”
Desire took him in, then, the little romantic seated next to them. Just a few months ago, I could name all the walls he’d stood up for himself. “I see,” they murmured. “And you’re so sure?”
“There’s nothing else it could be.” The Cat King had felt a whirlwind of feelings in his time, sported so many breaks in his heart that he wasn’t sure how much of it truly remained for him to give. But if anyone deserves to know how much he’s adored, it’s him. “Live a couple centuries, you start to recognize the extraordinary ones- the Shakespeares, Mercurys, what have you.” He could easily go out into the world, scan the globe for another guy with meticulously kept dark hair, spritelike build, impossibly green eyes and dig up a handful. But no one could ever copy what was held in Edwin’s vast, infuriating mind. Weather what had been battered into his enduringly generous heart. “Edwin leaves them all behind.”
There wasn’t much more that Desire could say to dissuade that. “So it’s like that.”
The Cat King sighed, only a little annoyed at the easy acknowledgement. “Yeah, it is,” he huffed, downing a swift gulp of his whiskey. “Still sucks.”
“At least I know you’ve separated the fantasy from the reality of it.” The Cat King scoffed. “Do you really want to know what could be if your feelings are shared? If, by some miracle, the future you wish for is in reach, and it is thanks to my advice that you obtain it?” asked Desire, to which he nodded; what wonders the passing of time was capable of producing. “If you love him as you say, and you want to share some semblance of a life with him, you must let him know he can share the same with you. That you have the strength to share his burdens and make them yours, navigate his darkness like it is yours. If he is as giving as you say, then you must be in return.”
In the Cat King’s consideration, Desire could perceive that he had already challenged himself to as much; the current moment was just him signing the contract, sending it up to the fates with the clinking glass rims of their drinks.
And it was later on in the following day, the aftermath of the Dead Boy Detectives’ latest job, where things almost predictably didn’t go as planned, that the challenge rose again.
Their latest client was one Sam Mulligan, a ghost whose unfinished business had sent the gang to a supernatural pub in London, scouting out the particularly atrocious ex-boyfriend who had driven him to his death.
“His name’s Lance,” said Sam, honking his nose out into the tissue Crystal had given him, handing Edwin a Polaroid of a slender, bleach blond young man with sharp features. “A f*cking demon escaped from hell, who thought I was a fun way to waste some time. I’m not going to any afterlife without letting that prick know what he did to me.”
Edwin exchanged looks with the surrounding detectives: Crystal responded with a grim nod, Niko a why not? smile, Charles brandishing his sword from its sheath and the Cat King cracking his knuckles, igniting purple sparks from his palms. “You needn’t worry, Sam,” the ghost assured him. “We will make sure your message gets across.”
They took their places in the pub, just far enough from each other to look inconspicuous, but just close enough to keep Lance in a contained ring: Niko conversing with their target near the tables by way of a honey trap, Crystal swiftly brushing by his shoulder to subtly return to Edwin seated at the bar with psychically-obtained information, and Charles and the Cat King lingering near the walls, watching in case anything went awry.
However, it quickly became clear that Lance wasn’t as blind to his observation as they’d thought- at Crystal’s third infodump, Edwin glancing at their target to match the facts with the fraud, he looked up to find Lance meeting his eyes, excusing himself from Niko to make his way to the ghost’s seat.
“You know,” he said, smoothly stealing a swig of the beer bottle Edwin had gotten to keep up appearances. “You can talk more than look. No one’s going to get you in trouble.”
“I… er, can assure you, that was none of my concern.”
“Aaand that’s our cue,” said Charles, pushing off the wall at Crystal’s return, sword in hand. “Come on, Whiskers. We’re shanking some of Luci’s filth.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa there, tiger,” the Cat King nudged him back. “A sword out in the open’s bound to catch a lot of unwanted attention. In a place like this, fist to face is a much more approvable route.”
To his own surprise, Charles found himself smiling in agreement. “I’m liking the cut of your jib a lot more these days.”
“Guys, come on, we’ve still got a job to run,” Crystal placated, trying to play the mediator. “See, here comes Niko. She’s probably going to tell us Lance isn’t that bad, Edwin’s got it all covered-”
“Kill him.”
Edwin had been cautiously ousted from his seat, holding his notebook out of reach as a persistent Lance attempted to bracket him against the bar.
“You’re pretty cute for a spy,” the demon murmured drunkenly.
“I find that very infantilizing, for what I assume is a compliment,” Edwin said, stumbling slightly on the barstool behind him.
Lance leered closer, taking the slip as universal encouragement. “Do you just dress in all those layers just so someone’ll take them off?”
Before Edwin could tell the demon properly to go f*ck himself, a spurt of purple fire flashed in his periphery, a hand whose gracious hold he’d memorized snaked around his waist and pulled him lightly away from the bar, against the Cat King’s side.
“Sorry I’m late- traffic on my end was merciless,” said the Cat King, gleaming eyes raking over Edwin as if he hadn’t seen him in ages, with a veiled smile that showed his teeth as they slipped over to Lance. “Didn’t think I’d left you lonely enough to give my seat to someone else.”
Though the act was unfamiliar to ones they’d pulled on jobs, its intent wasn’t lost on Edwin; Charles, Crystal, and Niko were already making their way up from the opposite wall. “Far from that- I would have waited all night,” Edwin replied, leaning towards the Cat King’s ear. “What you have witnessed here was rather an act of theft.”
Lance looked between the pair of them, blustering. “What the bloody bollocks is this?”
The Cat King chuckled, smile pulling tight over his face as he gently released Edwin and stepped out in front of him. “Look, buddy, clearly you haven’t read the book ‘He’s Just Not That Into You.” His advance backed Lance into a barstool, keeping him from going any farther. “But maybe you can get your shriveled f*cking teabags out of here before I do something that we’ll both really, really regret.”
His voice had gone deliberately low into a silken timbre that Edwin recognized from all the times the Cat King had used it on him ; clearly, going off the bewildered glances that Lance split from the king’s slitted eyes to his smirking mouth, it was having its reliable effect.
However, that effect soured fast with the glare that twisted Lance’s face into a black-eyed sneer. “You swinging dick.”
“Charles!” the Cat King called, dodging the lunge that Lance threw in his direction, but not before catching the punch the demon doubled in right over his right cheekbone. Quick as his namesake, the Cat King grabbed his wrist and yanked Lance’s face into his elbow, discarding him into Charles’ manhandling grasp that roughly tackled his arms behind his back.
“Out with you, tosser,” the ghost growled, dragging him out on the path that the shocked barfolk cleared for him, Niko, and Crystal. “You’ve got a lot to answer for.”
Edwin moved to join them, but his attention flashed quickly to the slight sideways pitch the Cat King pushed off the bar, determined to land on his own two feet. “Are you alright?”
The Cat King pushed the blood out of his mouth with a loose fist. “‘Tis but a scratch,” he answered dryly, meeting Edwin’s eyes under the bar lights. “Nothing I wouldn’t do again.”
Those words, combined with that golden, smoldering gaze. Edwin couldn’t think anything about that except: W hoa.
Once Lance was read for his crimes and properly exorcised outside of the pub, the detectives assured Sam that his path to the afterlife was now all clear and left him to Death’s mercy. Dark having fallen in Washington- and Edwin not believing the Cat King wasn’t some form of concussed after receiving such a hit -the ghost insisted on mirroring down to the warehouse to see him off.
He’d sat them down on the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the water, the Cat King placing great effort into keeping his eyes open while Edwin shone a flashlight into his pupils.
“Tell me you didn’t take me out here to blind me without the witness of my cats,” he said, blinking rapidly as Edwin switched the light off.
“Depending on the constriction of your pupils, a slow response could be a sign of a brain injury.” Edwin pocketed the light, held up three fingers. “How many?”
“Three.” Just as he was lowering his hand: “Thousand.” Edwin glared. The Cat King merely laughed. “Come on, Edwin, I’m fine. I’ve been clocked by plenty of demons and all of them, like Lance, have been dealt with.”
“That does not mean harm cannot have been sustained.”
“As touching as it is that you are taking the time out of your incredibly busy schedule to worry about me, I assure you, I can see you just fine,” said the Cat King, nudging down Edwin’s hand. “This,” he gestured to the quarter-sized bruise below his right eye, “is my only souvenir from the job. That, and the memory of being your knight in shining armor yet again.” Edwin rolled his eyes over a grudging smile; he did love pointing out those instances. “What we should be fussing over is you getting picked up on by that scumbag.”
Edwin scoffed. “That is hardly an event I wish to relive.”
“Nor do I blame you- any bleach-blond dipsh*t who takes it upon himself to give you a night to remember is eight times outta ten too wasted to give you the time.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“Sadly so.” The Cat King tapped the toe of Edwin’s boot with his. “He didn’t leave you with anything more than some resuscitated bile reflux, did he?”
Edwin obliged him with a wry smile. “Fortunately not.”
“Good to hear,” the Cat King nodded. “Least you gave him something to reflect on in Lucifer’s flaming fields.”
Beneath the soles of their shoes, the tiny waves of the current ebbed and flowed, dancing under the light of the moon. Edwin watched the image of it ripple under silver light. “Isn’t it always funny,” he mused, “all the twists and turns a life can take? How little you can predict any of it?”
“Can you imagine how boring it would be if you actually could?”
“Well, my afterlife certainly hasn’t been any of that. I never imagined I would befriend Charles walking through my old school- Crystal through an exorcism, Niko through a pair of dandelion spirits.” Edwin dared a glance at the being next to him, not having betrayed a single shift in interest. “You, sitting here, listening to me talk all about it.”
I do strive to be unpredictable, the Cat King considered, surprisingly proud to be brought up in collection with the others in the agency. “Man,” he murmured. “Imagine how fast you would’ve fallen for me had I actually known what to say when I met you.”
Edwin didn’t hold in the laugh that bubbled up from his chest, shaking his head. “Never in a millennia of living could I have imagined where I would be, all these… feelings, experiences. Things I never could have had in the era in which I was born.”
“Maybe you were always ahead of your time.” The ghost’s smile tempered, tilted to watch the moonlight play over the water. “It’s hard enough to feel alive when you’re living. Most experiences aren’t always good, but the world’s never been the most perfect place to love.”
Edwin peeked over to watch him then, wondered how many times the Cat King had seen the moon fall away for the sun in the sky, all the experiences he could have been referring to while Edwin was throwing himself into the cases of others. Isn’t it also worth pondering when I became so curious of such? Perhaps, deep down, he always had been. Always had wondered just what it was that built up the fortress that was the Cat King, how Edwin had managed to penetrate it without hardly trying.
Maybe that’s just another one of the ties that bind us. The loneliness that came with being surrounded by others and still knowing they didn’t fully understand. The games they played, one with the desires of others and one with the problems he could only solve if they weren’t his own. Death and rebirth, leaving their bodies unchanged but their hearts determined to give nothing away if they could damn well help it.
Perhaps experience was something Edwin would always lack in comparison to the Cat King. But he could offer one of his own to bridge the gap.
“I thought every chance I could have had was over when I died,” said Edwin, faint as the midnight breeze, delicate like a spider crawling over a tombstone. “Years spent in hell, nothing but survival in my mind, thinking that was how it was going to be for the rest of eternity. Just… remorse. Despair. Fear.”
Looking back at him, the Cat King had brought a knee up to his chest, crossed his elbow over it, his chin placed in the divot. His expression didn’t display anything like shock or pity, only the soundless, wordless request of go on.
Edwin swallowed. “One of my killers was someone I knew- a boy named Simon. I only had a few classes with him, never spoke to him more than a few times, but.” The ocean looked dark enough to swallow him up; Edwin was too close to falling in. He looked up at the blackened skyline, out at the boats floating by the docks. “He made me nervous. I didn’t want to name it anything else, what I felt for him, I never…” Edwin shook his head, laughed damply. “I always ran whenever he came too close, the coward I was. He’d thought I hated him. For no reason at all.” The lights were turning out, hands closing around his wrists. The bandanna tied around Edwin’s mouth felt tight enough to choke. “He and his friends brought me to that cellar as a joke. Tied me down to give themselves a laugh and me a scare. Summoned that demon not even imagining he would actually appear.”
“A virgin sacrifice.”
The words from the Cat King’s somber baritone brought a grim twist to Edwin’s mouth, punched a scoff out of his lungs. “Must sound silly to you, doesn’t it?”
But when Edwin opened his eyes to peek, the Cat King shook his head, cat eyes soft on his. “They took advantage of the chances you couldn’t have taken,” he said, tender as an elegy. “That boy robbed you of what you could have had.” As Edwin’s words were leaving him, lost in the genuity he hadn’t expected, the Cat King hastily added: “And just a few years away from the Roaring 20’s- you would’ve had a blast.”
Edwin startled gently back to his senses, smiling gingerly, thankful for the levity. “Maybe so,” he acknowledged. “But it wasn’t like I left him behind in my past life.” The Cat King’s brow dipped slightly. “When I was taken for a second time, I saw Simon again, ripping out the pages of our old textbooks, fingers bloody, as they’d probably been for ages. But on every page were our initials added together, in his handwriting.” The clench of his jaw released, soft enough to show he understood. “I’d had no idea he felt the same.”
“What did you do? Weren’t you angry with him?”
“At first, I was,” Edwin admitted. “But I couldn’t. He was like me- he was who I could have been, had I never figured out there were kinder ways to live.” Never found people who were willing to stick around for him, weather his bad moods and bring out his good, people who taught him his desires were possible. “It was no way to leave either of us- punishing ourselves for what we’d been so convinced was a crime to feel.”
And maybe it had been years since the Cat King had punished himself for anything he found himself drawn to, longer since he found reason to keep it a secret. But shame- feeling something and blaming a foolish heart, recognizing that same fault in someone else. That much he could relate to.
“Humans blame too much of their desires on weaknesses, saying it’s sin, when really it’s just emotion felt in excess,” said the Cat King, Edwin watching sidelong as he dropped his knee and reclined back on his elbows. “God knows we’ve all felt envy at some point- regardless of what adequacies we content ourselves with, there’s always going to be the unobtainable pinnacle that only lies in our dreams. And what is sloth, if not the rest we haven’t gotten for ages of living in a place where we’re only special if we keep going? Gluttony, if not the need to taste and experience as much as possible, because no one ever knows if you’ll be able to tomorrow?” A pause, a beat of apprehension in a glance at Edwin that darted quickly towards the moon. “Lust, if not the comfort and pleasure that can only be found in the hands of another?”
A flash of heat surged up Edwin’s neck, fever he released in the tug he gave at his collar. “I won’t disagree,” he conceded, a little hesitantly at that. Even so, with the silence that could have laid it to rest, Edwin released the crux of his confession. “A part of me believed that I deserved my fate, because of my desires. That even though I had never acted on them, it was enough that I had harbored them in the first place.”
He stopped there. The king watched him, waited for a refute, something that would forgive the statement made, but nothing came.
And somewhere deep inside, beyond the fortresses built by centuries of attacks and disasters, the Cat King’s heart broke.
He rose upright on the ground to view Edwin, his stony profile and three-piece armor, an angel carved from marble and misery. Nowhere had the Cat King ever seen so deeply into him, and nowhere could he remember wanting to prove someone wrong so badly. “There is no world in which you could have ever deserved what happened to you.”
Edwin didn’t look at him when he agreed. “Perhaps,” he admitted. “But, in a way, it would have prevented all of this from happening as well. In some odd, backwards fashion, death has made me feel more alive than I ever could have been before.” A tiny, archaic smile tugged just barely at the corner of his mouth. “The stories we live, in spite of their obstacles, always bring us to where we need to be.”
The Cat King tried to imagine what theirs looked like then: himself, a centuries old being who had found himself falling in a way he had forgotten was possible for a stubborn, sympathetic, damaged British gentleman who was determined to make the best of what he’d been given, what he allowed himself.
Please, the Cat King thought, raising a tentative hand to reach for Edwin. Allow yourself this.
The Cat King touched him then, the graze of a hand over his cheek like he was wiping away tears, an apology for how briefly he trapped him, how he’d made him feel. Edwin, without his mind, grabbed the hand and held it there before it could draw away, leaned into it with his eyes closed; a pardon. A reminder that he’d received it long ago.
When Edwin opened them, the Cat King was glowing before him, twilight and hazel eyes wide and illustriously soft, undemanding. The Cat King remained there in his grasp, heart breaking, heart blooming, trying to bring into words what he felt for him.
What Edwin felt was like fire- like he’d been doused in gasoline from the inside out, and the flames warming his heart were violet. It wasn’t enough to feel the warmth through his glove- he wanted the leather to melt away, let him experience the sensation of skin on skin. “Cat-"
“Thomas.”
For a moment, it was all he could do to blink, try to bring sense back into their space. “Sorry, wha… who?”
The Cat King chuckled, swiped his thumb over Edwin’s cheekbone. “Me,” he replied, so simply that even the stars gasped in surprise. “You didn’t think it said Cat King on my birth certificate, did you?”
“Well- I-” Edwin spluttered, trying to make words come out. “I didn’t- I hadn’t thought about it, but…” He let the attempts fall away, left it behind for the truth that was there on the Cat King's face.
The title pushed aside, if Edwin looked hard enough he could see how it matched the name it revealed; the boy beneath the crown, the melody and the mischief, bronze hair and golden skin and a red, bleeding heart. “Thomas.” His hand curled over the one on his cheek, pressing the life lines to his skin. “Thomas,” Edwin whispered, like a prayer, a breeze through the trees beyond, like a poem.
Reverently, like it was the last word he would ever say, Thomas breathed out, “Edwin.”
When eventually Thomas bid the ghost goodnight, he stayed out there for a bit, watching the moon reflect over the sea, looking at the stars. He didn't look away when the click of Desire's heels tacked the ground behind him, when they slipped into the empty spot at his side.
"Well?" prompted Desire. "How did he take it?"
Thomas traced the constellations beyond the clouds, looking instead for asteroids. "I didn't know if he'd believe me at first, but, when he said it." There it was- 617 Patroclus. "I don't think I've ever sounded so beautiful in someone else's voice."
Edwin returned through mirror to a sober office discussing the next job, the team asking if the Cat King was alright, him only hesitating to answer because he'd briefly forgotten who that was.
"You alright, mate?" asked Charles, approaching him from the other room. The Orpheus to his Eurydice.
Edwin nodded, smiling gratefully at his partner. "Yes, all is well. I'll be with you in a moment." With a squeeze of his hand, Charles left him for the other room, let Edwin stay with himself for a bit,half his being still sitting there on the docks of Port Townsend. Looking into the eyes of a boy he'd only seen written in myths.
He lifted the hand that Thomas held above the heart that felt like it has once again started beating- a feeling he had remembered with Charles on that night with the two dragons, one he never thought he would feel again. Slowly, carefully, Edwin stroked the hand to his face again, dropped it to the pulse above his throat, held it there with his eyes closed.
"Thomas…"
Notes:
Opera House - Cigarettes After Sex
Chapter 14: Wherever I Go
Summary:
So I’ve been writing pretty cute, pretty nice chapters all up until the end, right? With mild hurt/comfort in the tags, you would think there would be some angst in the final chapters, right? Well, here it is- eat your hearts out. (Not literally though, keep all organs in bodily cavities for safety reasons)
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The five members of the Dead Boy Detectives agency peered in a circle at the glazed eyes of their latest client. “How long has she been like this?” asked Charles.
"About three days, now," answered the father of six-year-old Cecily Brooks, wringing his hands on the sofa. "We'd been approached by Death, about to cross over to the afterlife, when her hand- glitchedin mine, and- and when she awoke, it was like her body was here with me, but her mind was absent."
Curious, Thomas waved a hand in front of the young girl's face, which Crystal slapped down with a headshake. "Absent how?" asked Niko.
Soren Brooks swallowed. "Well, I... I can move her. Touch her, like this." He rose up and took his daughter's hand. "But she won't respond," he tremored, lip quivering. "Not even a blink, so I can know she's there."
Gently, Niko guided him back to the sofa as the detectives broke their circle. "Though it isn't something we've dealt with before, we are familiar with the concept," said Edwin. "In some cases, when ghosts travel to an afterlife, their mind is still caught between two realms, focused more on one than the other. Is there any reason Cecily could have had to want another afterlife than heaven?"
"We weren't a very religious family- Cecily never expressed curiosities about heaven or hell, or anything like that." But Mr. Brooks gave to a pause. "Her mother did pass, however, little over a year ago. She had, erm, problems, that. Never made it easy for Cece growing up, but she never really knew why she was treated the way she was."
Charles' voice muted at that, bringing Crystal and Edwin's hands to his shoulders for comfort. "Mr. Brooks, if I might be so frank," the Cat King started in their stead, "have you considered that maybe you and your late wife... didn't have the same afterlife?"
The implication carried by his words didn't seem lost on Mr. Brooks, even if it shamed him some to think so. But the alarm settled in much more quickly. "Are you saying that Cecily might be there with her? In a bad place?"
"We don't know it for sure," the Cat King corrected hastily. "But, if Mrs. Brooks' actions really were that hellish, and Cecily didn't understand that it wasn't entirely her fault, she might have accidentally gotten caught in the in-between of things." At the detectives' grave looks, he confirmed their suspicions. "It's something I've seen before, a soul getting caught in Limbo. Happens more than one might think."
"Limbo?!" Mr. Brooks repeated, horrified.
"Give us a moment, Mr. Brooks," Edwin requested. "I and my colleagues need a moment to converse."
Shuffling off into the spare room next door, the detectives huddled up beside a spare bookcase. "Alright, let's do this quick," Crystal whispered. "We left that guy looking like he was about to pop a posthumous blood vessel."
"Whiskers, you said you dealt with this mess before?" Charles prompted.
"A couple times, with a couple covens," the Cat King replied. "One witch would be right on the doorstep to heaven, but still have some sympathy for her abusive husband on the other side, so she'd get stuck in the walls. Happens pretty often, when you fall in love with a particularly sh*tty person."
"So is there a way we can get her out?" Niko proposed. "A spell you used?"
Thomas' mouth pursed, twisted at their expectance; it wasn't the answer he wanted to give. "There was one ritual," he gave in begrudgingly. "It involved four members of a coven funneling their consciences into Limbo, searching through the emotions of the misplaced ghost- whichever one they're linked to the most will lead to their spirit."
"So like, our bodies stay here," said Niko slowly, "but our minds go there?"
"Doesn't sound as risky as the actual being there," Charles noted. "Given two of our majority have actually mapped out the place, I say we give it a try."
"It's not as easy as an in-and-out pass," Thomas protested. "The link between the living world and afterlife is dangerously delicate. It's like you're walking through the middle realm on a tightrope- one wrong move, and you could end up like Cece out there."
"I've dealt with mind realms before," offered Crystal. "Just as long as we keep something tethering us to the other side, we should be fine, right?"
The Cat King shook his head. "I've lost some of the strongest witches I knew to some of their most powerful memories- people can lose their minds, ghosts can lose their selves. It's a once-in, once-out deal. If anyone gets stuck in there, it could all be over."
"But is there any other way?" asked Niko. Thomas couldn't even look at her with his answer.
"We can't let risk dissuade us from our objective," Edwin took over, voice firm. "Leading ghosts to their afterlives, bringing peace and righting wrongs. Regardless of the dangers, we have to trust our own skills and wiles in aiding us through even the most challenging of battles." Then, to the Cat King. "And we must believe that the ties that bind us to our stronger bearings are enough to bring us back to the world above."
Taking in their hardened determination, the Cat King almost couldn't believe he'd encountered such bravery. "You guys really throw yourselves into the hairiest situations and call it a day's work, huh?"
"And we're taking you with us, Scoob," Charles responded, notching an elbow over his shoulder. "Come on, gang. Let's get this job done."
Edwin and Charles rolled out the pentagram rug they'd adapted for special occasions such as this, Crystal and Niko painting the runes that the Cat King scrawled for them on Post-Its on the circle's outer rim. Candles were lit, black salt brought out for the hell of it, incantations sworn into the ring to bring the spell to life.
When all was ready to roll, Mr. Brooks gently sat his daughter at the top spire of the star, representing spirit, while the rest of the detectives knelt into their places at the remaining four, charging the air with magic energy.
"Attention, Dead Boys, this is your moderator speaking," announced the Cat King over Edwin's spellbook. "We're going to be taking a little journey to Limbo in about fifteen seconds, so please keep all your belongings close and your mental stability closer."
Edwin straightened himself up, inhaled deeply for a semblance of calm. "You got this, mate," Charles whispered.
"We're gonna be right there with you," said Crystal.
Niko squeezed a comforting hand on Edwin's shoulder, one he covered with his own. Thomas spared him one last glance over the rim of the book: Are you sure about this? Without hesitation, Edwin nodded:Don't ask stupid questions.
Steeling himself, the Cat King fixed his eyes to the book; the stakes felt higher than they had ever been. "Search and rescue mission for one Cecily Brooks is officially a go," he said. "Good luck, everyone."
On the sofa, Mr. Brooks whispered a breathless prayer just barely with his voice. In a deep, centered rumble that thrummed through the room, the Cat King read aloud: "Suscipe nos, fideles, humiles servi, ad inferos, ubi mentes nostras a corporibus solvant."*
The pentagram fizzled with ethereal, briefly blinding light, before it blazed in the eyes of the detectives and brought them into Limbo.
Not much was known about the middle realm between the living world and the afterlife; what Thomas had learned from his experiences with the witches was what they had been able to share from it afterwards: the first thing that became clear was a lobby room of unimaginable elegance, nobody else in there but you. There were four hallways splitting off; whichever one you chose lead to a door in the center of pitch black nothing, its room associated with either fear, anxiety, sadness, or shame. One reported seeing her estranged sister, another the daughter they'd lost to the plague, another reliving her trial of witchcraft accusation. No one was able to say much more than the summary.
An hour on the Thomas' end passed pacing round the circle, jerking to attention at every twitch and tremor given by the detectives in the ritual, reassuring Mr. Brooks that yes,he was a professional, complete silence and stillness was normal. He'd catch whispers of their pains- Crystal's under-breath growl at some prick named David, Niko's breathy sob of 'Help me,' even Charles' boisterous tone lowered to a helpless whimper, saying stop it,stop it.Edwin's lips would move in indiscernible meaning, stonefaced and white knuckled, but Thomas could have sworn it sounded like praying.
Suddenly, Cecily's eyelids fluttered, mouth moving to shape forgotten words, jolting her father upright on the sofa. "P-Papa..."
"Yes," Mr. Brooks breathed out, rising to his feet, approaching. "Yes, it's me, Cece, I'm right here!"
"Stand back," the Cat King warned, holding out a hand before him. "You don't want to send her into shock."
The lit-up pentagram crackled with spectral blue light, runes, star, and all, lighting up the glazed-over eyes in the circle like the glow of Death. A sudden blast of wind gusted from the circle, blowing papers and knickknacks every which way about the room. One at a time, as the blue light receded, the detectives awoke in a reviving gasp.
"Jesus!" Charles heaved out.
"Holy-" Niko blurted.
"f*ck,"Crystal wheezed into the carpet.
Thomas burst out laughing, and Mr. Brooks raced for his daughter, who had stumbled half-consciously backwards against the bookcase, catching her up in an enveloping hug. "Cecily, you're here!"
"I saw her," Cecily murmured, still getting a bearing of her surroundings. "I saw Mama, she- I tried, but she told me she didn't want me to-"
"I know." Mr. Brooks knelt before her, looked into her now-seeing eyes. "And I'm sorry, my love, I am. But I promise, you will never,everhave to leave me unless you want to."
Parent and child reunited, the Cat King tended back to his detectives, righting them up back on their land legs. "I can't believe you bastards," he chuckled. "You made it out okay."
"Not without some scars," said Crystal, still scowling. "Got dropped into another lovely moment with my ex boyfriend." So Davidwasa prick- clocked that right.
"Ran into my dad," said Charles, stilted, a shake in his voice replacing his usual mirth. "Got out mostly untouched, so. Plus, innit."
"I was taken back to my days with the dandelion sprites," said Niko, her tone downcast and soft as fleece. "How lonely I felt, not even knowing what was wrong with me. But I found Cecily there with me," she glanced over where the father and daughter were talking on the sofa. "So I guess it was worth it."
Thomas smiled, with way too much feeling than he'd ever admit to. "Would've sucked if this agency lost any of its finest." But the beat passed too quietly, too soft; something wasn't right. "Where the f*ck is Edwin?"
"Is he okay?" asked Cecily, pointing at the ghost still kneeling in the circle. Edwin's body had begun swaying from an invisible wind, the whites in his eyes swimming like storm clouds. His lips hadn't stopped moving through whispers.
The Cat King's heart thudded to the pit of his stomach. "sh*t-"
"No, no, no, no," Charles murmured as the agency dropped to their knees around him, grasping onto Edwin's shoulders. "Edwin? Edwin, mate, are you there? Are you-" Edwin's body shuddered- glitched -and Charles' hands passed right through, leaving them shaking through air. "Why did I do that," he said around Niko clamping a hand over her gaping mouth. At Thomas, he screamed, "What's happening to him?"
"It's the risk of a ghost going through the ritual," Thomas gritted out, shoving his hands through his hair. "He- his body's losing physicality on the mortal plane, f*cking-sh*t,Iknewwe shouldn't have done this spell!"
"We can't just f*cking leave him!" Crystal shouted. "Put us back in!"
"I toldyou, it's a once-in, once-out deal! I'm sorry, okay, I-" His voice shuddered through waves of panic, of too many apologies rushing past, too many reasons for the Cat King not to throw himself into danger, lose a life for something that actually mattered. He'd done it too many times with too many people he'd cared for- when Edwin had been in hell, he let his own shame get the better of him, leave him to answer to Esther's cane instead. But now was different. He's too important to leave astray. "f*cking f*ck this."
Thomas shoved Charles out of the way, handed Crystal the book. "Put me in, Coach," he told her. "Niko, you get the Brooks family out of here- Death's gonna be here any second to collect her bounty." He knelt before Edwin's milky white eyes in the center of the pentagram, glowing blue as Crystal began to stammer the incantation, and placed a hand over his. "I'm not leaving without him." Not living without him any longer.
"You-" Charles' voice snapped his head to the right; the ghost was panting on the floor where he'd been knocked aside, but his expression was resolute. "You bring him back safe, alright, Whiskers?"
As if he had to tell me. Thomas' mouth twitched in the barest reflection what muscle memory had imprinted into a smirk. "You know," he noted, "it astounds me how often you guys improvise on the job."
And everything he ever knew flared a blinding, holy white.
When color came back into his vision again, the Cat King was shoved straight into darkness, with dank stony hallways with flickering lights, filled with the screams of a million damned and eerie footsteps of monsters. "What the hell,” he murmured. Literally. Actually. "sh*t, okay, then."
One step turned into two, turned into a slow, creeping tread that carried him through the halls of hell. "Edwin!" he called. "Edwin?"
"Thomas..."
It wasn't Edwin's voice, but the whisper made him stop cold, the hairs on his neck stand on end. He couldn't tell where the first came from, but the next came from everywhere- every corner, every shadow, every closed and open door, in shouts, calls, cries, and moans. Some voices he could recognize, some he couldn't, but the closer they came the faster it pushed him to run,farther and farther down this never ending hall.
"Thomas!"
"Thomas?"
"Cat."
Edwin's lilted English baritone skidded Thomas to a stop, zeroed his eyes in on the door at the end of the hall, just barely creaking open. Before the voices could catch up, he broke right up the corridor, ran through, straight into-
- a f*cking forest.
Thomas stared straight up. Yep- birds were chirping, this was dirt under his boots, and those were definitely pine trees spiraling into the sky. "What kind of sh*t is this?" Sure, he'd staked his claim over Port Townsend since its founding, but he wasn't that stupid to think he'd be back so soon. Unless they wanted to capture my idea of hell.Acres and acres of trees, and no Edwin. Diabolical.
Sighing, Thomas trudged on, kicking dead leaves out of his path. "Edwin?" he tried again. "This isn't the context I wanna be yelling your name right now!"
Normally, that would've gotten a special category of affronted reply from the target audience, but when Cat King turned to meet the approaching footsteps behind him, he found the culprit to be much more terrifying than any monster hell could have cooked up.
A woman in a medievally accurate brown petticoated dress approached him cautiously. "Thomas?" Though her blond curls were mostly hidden under a cloth milkmaid's cap, she was peering up at him with compassionate blue eyes that he'd once been able to claim as his own, until the end of his first life stripped them away, replaced them with those of his patron's. "My son, what's happened to you?"
The closer she came, the more he found he couldn't move. Couldn't take his eyes away from a life he thought he'd left behind in centuries past. "Mom-"
"Thomas!" A man's voice this time- a blacksmith, brawny and hoglike, always smiling like he'd have something nasty to say about you. "By the gods, look at you, boy! Wearing a skirt? You really must be spending too much time with those witches!"
The rest of the townsfolk were coming out now, eyes on him judging, picking him apart, filling him with dread, a shackle of a feeling he'd escaped for so long: shame. He had to run, keep going before more of them came with their pitchforks, their godly curses, overpowered him and stripped him down to the boy he was without his power.
Thomas drilled his eyes forward, raced ahead as the phantoms of his past kept pulling themselves out of the ground- old colleagues, friends, lovers from all centuries of his life, running at him from behind the trees, flooding his ears with the reasons why he couldn't bear to think about them anymore.
"Why did you leave me when the police came?"
"f*cking broke up with me before our anniversary, coward!"
"Big power, big f*cking man, what does it really give you, huh?"
"You got the devil for a father, and he put the devil's blood in you!"
"I've never metanyonesodeterminedto die alone."
The sun was going down at a rapid pace; already he could hear flint striking steel, lighting torches, lighting pyres, hunting for the devil's sons and daughters to eradicate them from the earth. Thomas broke off behind a tree trunk. He needed air, needed Edwin, needed to-
A callused hand, touch almost like a leather glove, tilted his head to the side, brought him face to face with a boy's firetraced features made softly orange by light of a torch. He had dark, mussed hair and green eyes like spring meeting summer halfway.
"Funny," he murmured, a little sadly. "You don't look like much of a Thomas anymore."
Thomas couldn't have pushed him back if he wanted to; he knew this boy from the bottom of his heart. He'd been the first one to give him a smile that sparked butterflies, to say his name like it meant something precious, to call him beautiful under the cover of midnight when no one else was around. What the hell would he think of me now?"I know," he whispered. "I'm sorry."
Suddenly, the ground opened up in a rabbit hole beneath his feet, and the Cat King was swallowed up screaming.
When it spit him back out, he was stumbling out the closet door of a school hallway, everything colored like a noir film. "Could you stopdoing that?!" Thomas yelled up at the ceiling. Of course, to no response. Hell really was a bitch.
Apparently, it didn't have any electricity either, because the damn lights couldn't stop flickering. The Cat King flicked his fingers on instinct, igniting a purple plume of fire in his palm to guide him through the hall. A sinister, clicking growl around the other corner twitched his head up; he caught a glimpse of a humanoid beast with the appearance imitating a naked mole rat- something that Edwin had described once on a job as a Misery Wraith.
What was it that Charles said once? Kill it with fire?
Ditching all other thought, the Cat King chucked his fireball at the creature with only the hope that it stuck the landing before barreling sideways into the nearest classroom.
Desks and chairs were knocked over, papers strewn all over the place, pencils stabbed into windows. Just a few feet away from Thomas' foot was a comic older than he'd seen in years- the Chiltern House Detectives, one of the favorites of the early 1900’s.
In the far right corner of the classroom, legs pulled to his chest like he was trying to compress himself into thin air, was Edwin.
"Ed," Thomas breathed, almost sobbed. "Edwin!" He ran for him immediately, sliding to a halt on his knees before him, tugging his deadlocked arms down from his legs. "I can see why you hate this goddamn place. Really didn't make finding you easy-" On tilting up Edwin's face, his voice dropped; the boy's eyes- those spellbinding green eyes -were covered in the same white haze that the ritual had cast over them in the living world. "Oh, baby, what did they do to you?"
Edwin shook his hands away, winding himself impossibly tighter. "Leave me."
The words hit like a slap. "Sorry- what?"
"Leave me," Edwin whispered again, husk of a voice tucking into the knees of his slacks. "I'm no use outside- they'll always take me." Outside, the Misery Wraith howled, searching for its victim. "It's not like I matter much."
"Okay- I don't know where that self pity's coming from, but we can shove it right up that monster's ass if it has one when we get out of here."
"Perhaps I was always going to end up here," Edwin considered softly. "In the in-between. I didn't do much alive to get into hell, but I guess I thought all the good I'd do dead would make up for the chances I didn't take." Out of the corner of his unseeing eye, a tiny little raindrop tear pricked in the corner of his eye. "I don't deserve to get what I want- always took it for granted, anyways."
This was it. The overwhelming force- the shame that had taken such root in Edwin, ruled over him for so much of his life. Even a lifetime of adventure can't get rid of that pain.
"I," Thomas started- nope. The knot swelling up in his throat was already shaking his breaths; they would turn his words into an avalanche. "I don't know how you can say that, but-" The quiver in his voice dropped his head, released his trembling fists over his knees. Damn it all. "Okay, I have felt waytoo manyf*ckingemotions today, and- I know, okay, I know I'm not the hero you deserve, or want, I mean, f*ck, that guy was already there for you when it mattered, up to his ass in this sh*t when I was too busy wallowing on the fact that-" Thomas sniffled, barked out a damp laugh. "You were right. Right about me, about a lot of things, and you can run your pretty little mouth about it all you want later, but I am notletting it be here."
Everything was pouring out now- the secret parts he'd never let Edwin see: how much he wanted, needed,hurt."I'm- I'm not brave, or good, or anything that deserves a say in your book, but I told everyone who I know that is that I wouldn't leave this f*cking place without you, and I'm not about to look like a failure in front of Charles, okay? And I'm not gonna pretend that I'm here for any reason other than I've been spending almost every day of the weekwith you, and I'm not done being so f*cking selfish as to go without that." Another broken laugh. "You really thought a month would be enough for me to get over you? Idiot."
Edwin's grip around his legs had lightly loosened, mouth softened in a little o,but his eyes were still,stillnot seeing him. "Come on, Paine, I have died for you once in that world- don’t you dare think I won’t do it in this one, alright? This is not a part three- f*ck, there shouldn't have even been a part one, you've just spent your whole run on earth being a f*cking Boy Scout. You are too good for heaven, too good for hell, but- dammit, I'm wasting my breath here. You got the whole gang up there waiting for you, you know that? f*cking- Charles, Crystal, Niko, they're everything to you! What would they do without you? What would anyone?"
The tears slipped down from Edwin's face like the beginning of a downpour; Thomas surged forward to catch them with his own hands. "There is no one else in the goddamn universe like you, Edwin Paine. You never let anyone have their way with you. Everything that's been hurled at you, you get back up and you fight. And you gotta do that now, okay? Come back." In a cry of sheer hysteria, sheer desperation: "Come back!”
A roar goes up from the Misery Wraith, jerking the Cat King's attention behind his back. "Thomas?"
Thomas whirled around; the haze in Edwin's eyes was gone, replaced with wide, evergreen astonishment. “Hey,” he breathed out in relief, unable to give it any more weight as he brushed hair the out of his face, tears from his cheeks. “There you are. This we can work with.”
But the Misery Wraith had crashed through the door, and the world was going white again, giving Thomas only enough time to shield Edwin with himself as it burned them up.
Notes:
Wherever I Go - OneRepublic
*Suscipe nos, fideles, humiles servi, ad inferos, ubi mentes nostras a corporibus solvant - Latin translation of "
Take us, faithful, humble servants, to the underworld, where they will release our minds from our bodies."
Chapter 15: Love Me Like You Do
Summary:
I cried writing that last chapter, so I hope you felt something reading it. Anyways, Edwin's back on the mortal plane with the gang, pretty f*cking shaken at all that he's heard revealed from the Cat King, and he kinda feels like y'know what: enough is enough.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Come back!"
Edwin gasped back to life on the office sofa, the world back into color, scaring the surrounding agency sh*tless.
"I- I was- I was-"
"Hey, take it easy now, mate," Charles said, taking to his side instantly. "We're here, you're safe. You're okay."
"You've been out for four hours," Crystal informed Edwin, Niko easing him backwards onto the sofa cushions. "You got stuck in the spell for a bit, but everything's good now."
"And- and the Brooks father and daughter?"
"Both safe, Death came and collected them without a hitch," confirmed Charles, to his best friend's sigh of relief. "Job well jobbed."
Edwin shakily laced an arm over the hug that Niko consoled him with. As his eyes fluttered over the room, they rested over the knickknack shelf, the chair beside the globe, the left space by his desk. "Where's... where's the Cat King?"
The three detectives exchanged wary looks at one another. "He was here for a bit, but one of his cats came and brought him back to Port Townsend," said Niko, quiet to Edwin's visibly mellowed expression. "When we couldn't go back in after you, he was the one who brought you out of Limbo."
Edwin gently brought a hand to the side of his face, to the tears he'd felt wiped away. "How inconvenient," he murmured. "I would have at least liked to thank him." Would have liked to confront him, at least for a moment, about what was said in Limbo realm.
Though his friends around him weren't there with him in the dimension, it seemed that they could very well infer what was going on in his mind.“Liking the American boy, eh?" Crystal chimed in, wry smirk pulling at her lips.
“Oh my God, I love that song," said Charles.
“You better," Crystal teased. "I’m the one who introduced you to it.”
“What are you talking about?” demanded Edwin, lowering his voice to a hiss. “I know you’re not talking about the thing we talked about not talking about.”
“It’s okay, mate," Charles laughed, sincerely. "I know you how feel about the Cat King.”
Immediately, Edwin flared up."Crystal!"
“Hey, I didn’t say anything!”
Horrified, Edwin turned to the girl with her arm around him.“Niko?”
Much to her credit, Niko didn't even feel the pressure to lie. “I… kind of didn’t have to say anything.”
“Edwin, it’s okay," Charles soothed Edwin, who was actively melting on the sofa. “Look, I know I wasn’t thrilled about his being around at first- he still does have the tendency to be a prick-"
"Charles," Crystal chided.
“But it’s okay," Charles picked back up. "I know… now, that that’s not all there is to him. He's actually been an alright asset to the agency, and... he seems to care a lot for you as well.” Edwin pulled back from his humiliation, enough to fully garner what his friend was saying. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, Edwin Paine- you are, without a doubt, the best person I know. My best mate, for as long as forever lasts. You deserve as much as you can get because, let's be real, you're a f*cking catch." Damply, Edwin laughed. "And I know that, when you told me how you felt about me, I couldn’t give you what you wanted-" Charles went back, amended. “Well, still can’t.”
"For Crystal's sake, I almost hope so," said Edwin, smiling even when the psychic slugged him in the arm. “Charles, I forgave you for that so long ago.”
“I know. And that doesn’t matter now, because- because he can, give you what you want. If he’s still exactly how I remember with you, he’ll throw that in and then some. And I’ll admit, he’s not exactly the guy I had in mind for your first boyfriend-"
"Boyfriend?"
"A title you can totally negotiate with him later," Crystal jumped in quickly.
“- but, if he’s the one you want," Charles finished, throwing all his willpower into his last words. "Then I won’t be the guy who stands in the way of that.”
”Charles…” They couldn’t possibly be talking about a guy who Charles had threatened with a bat on the first time of their meeting, now giving Edwin his blessing to court. “Could we speak in private?”
Steadily helping Edwin to his feet, Charles led them to the storage closet, the one that Crystal called after them into, saying, “You guys do know that doesn’t block out the sound-“
Charles closed the door. “Okay, so.” He clapped his hands, rubbed them together. “Cat King biz.”
”I- actually have a development on that,” whispered Edwin. “His name is Thomas. He told me so himself.”
”Wait- Whiskers has aname?”Nod. “And he toldyou?”Even faster nod. “Whoa. That’s… heavy stuff, mate.”
”And there’s more- there’ssomuch more that he’s told me.” For what it was worth, Edwin edged away from the door, leaned closer to Charles. “I never thought he would be this way to me.”
”Neither did I,” admitted Charles. “But it’s obvious he’s got something for you- something big, maybe even love.” The mention of the word pushed all the air out of Edwin’s lungs. “I don’t want you sticking with me just because I’m safe, or whatever.”
”Charles, you know I meant it when I told you how I felt.” Edwin planted his hands on his shoulders. “I remain with you because youletme- because there’s no one else who would get me through this bloody afterlife. This…allthis, is something I still don’t know how to confront.” The Cat King-Thomaswas still such an enigma in so many ways. “But I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to.”
A wry smile poked at the edge of Charles’ mouth. “You think it’s just the beginning, then?” he asked. “D’you think he’ll give you more? Give you him?”
”I think…” For as long as he’d known him, Thomas had never backed Edwin into a corner, never gave him no choice in any situation, never told him what he couldn’t have. “I think he’d give me anything I asked for.”
Charles nodded in approval. “You deserve it. A cut of the world and then some.” A loose strand of hair lingered in front of Edwin’s eye; with an infectious smile, Charles flicked it out of the way, bringing a mimic to Edwin’s face. “Do you trust him? Like you trust me?”
Edwin was used to his lanterns, cherished them, treasured the light they brought to a dark he couldn’t see out of without them. But lanterns had a casing around the electricity it held- Thomas was fire, pure and unguarded, there in the palm of Edwin’s hand for him to kindle or snuff out. It really is up to me, what happens with us. Thomas would flirt and confess and dance around the boundaries of too close for comfort, but, true to his word, he would never steal something as precious as a kiss without Edwin’s consent. And now, after all this, Edwin was some semblance of ready- ready to make his move, to give back. “I do.”
”Then that’s all there is to it,” said Charles, shrugging like it was the easiest thing in the world. “As long as you know he won’t hurt you, you can take it in whatever direction you like.”
After all these years, Edwin couldn't believe he'd gotten lucky enough to be living his afterlife with his best friend. “I love you, Charles.”
“Love you too, mate," Charles replied, ever reliable. "Now go get him.”
“What- now?" A nod. “Surely I should take some time to prepare, these things must not be done so spur-of-the-moment.”
The door yanked open- Crystal and Niko were on the other side.
”Dude, we’ve been watching this foreplay formonths,”Crystal told him. “Go already.”
”You got this!” Niko cheered.
Edwin certainly hadn’t realized his love life had been so observed. “Well.” He straightened out his coat, glanced at one last encouraging nod from Charles. “Alright, then.”
Once Edwin had collected enough sanity to come to terms with what he was about to do, convinced the rest of his lot (mainly Charles) that he was just going to talk to him, he performed a final once over of himself in the agency mirror before stepping through to Port Townsend.
Midnight had fallen over the sleepy Washington town, bathing the inside of the warehouse with whites, grays, and blacks of a monochrome still life, an unused set, bringing Edwin behind the scenes. The cats lingering around on the pallets and blankets littering the floor lifted their heads from sleep, mewling to one another at this new, infamous arrival. "Cat," Edwin stammered, forcing the call out. "Thomas?"
"In walks the soldier from the battle," the Cat King intoned, jolting Edwin's focus from the throne in the center of the room to the window on stage right; the king himself was brooding in the moonlight, gazing dramatically out at the dock on a steel scaffold railing. He was still wearing the same tight pine green longsleeve and black skirt that he'd brought to the agency hours before. "For a second, I almost didn't know if you'd come back from it."
As if to confirm that Edwin wasn't a mirage, he met his eyes across the room. In the silver glow, Edwin could almost see his pupils enlarge, as Niko theorized they did. But, before he could confirm, the mask drew up just as quickly, turning his face away from Edwin's. “Niko told me you were okay a bit ago. Crystal said she could feel your life vibes, or whatever. I had a kingdom to run, personal matters to tend to, so I returned here.”
Ah. Right.What he was supposed to do instead of running out to London with Edwin and the agency. "My apologies for having kept you from doing so," Edwin attempted. "Though, if I'm correct,Niko said you slept on my lap for three hours.”
Thomas' mouth briefly pursed, a hint at being caught in the act. "So?"
It occurred to Edwin that, after breaking down before him in such a vulnerable place as Limbo, the Cat King might not have wanted to take visitors at the moment.No matter- I'm here now.He would have to take him.
"I wanted to thank you, for what you did for me," Edwin fumbled on, continuing his tentative pace forward. "I remember what you told me." Thomas flicked away at his nails, trying to appear absent in spite of his stiffening posture. "I never asked for a hero, you know.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t deserve one, and it doesn’t mean I’m one. All I did was take a gander through your mind realm, not tear open a door to haul you out of there in the physical. f*cked more with my head than I would have liked, but obviously you're still up and conscious on the mortal plane, so I did my job right."
"Truly, you did more than that. You-" Edwin found the words catching in his throat, still unable to fully comprehend them. “You told me I was too good for heaven and hell.”
“Because you are.”
He seemed almost flippant with the answer. “You told me you would die for me again.”
“Fork found in a kitchen.”
“Damn it, will you listen to me?!”
The break in his voice cracked like a whip through the room. The Cat King stopped brooding.
“I am here because of what you said, don’t you understand that? Your words mattered to me so greatly because I never thought I would hear any of that from anywhere else but my own head, and you took the words out of it. Can’t you at least acknowledge that so I know that it means anything?” Thomas' hand uncurled, drummed finger by finger down upon the sill, throat bobbing in a soundless swallow. “What any of this means?”
This. This relationship between them. Something so libertine it couldn't have possibly considered a friendship but too charged for it to be an ordinary romance. Edwin had gone so long not knowing what it was; he didn't even know if the Cat King had a name for it in his own head.
Thomas rose from his seat on the windowsill, jumped down into the shadows, only thumpsandclangshinting at his descending presence, which was confirmed in the low rise of his eyes to Edwin's, the silhouette of his body traced out in ink from behind the cover of darkness. "Why bother?”
Before Edwin could break down completely, Thomas said, “What can I re-explain to you that I haven’t already confirmed myself?”
And the Cat King advanced his stride towards the center of the room, fracturing Edwin's resolve with every near step. “I died for you. I would do it again. You don’t belong in hell, and you never will. Frankly, I’m pretty sure even if you get the choice to go to heaven, you’ll still choose to stay here and spend even more of your time giving to other people because you choose to be the hero. Don’t know why, hell of a lot more work than an ordinary afterlife, but you do you.”
Edwin tracked his steps drawing a sinuous circle around him, watched Thomas watch him. “I preside over a kingdom centered around want and pleasure, and my primary source of both, since your agency first arrived in Port Townsend, has been you.” With every sentence, the circle drew tighter, the space between them growing tangibly smaller. “You fascinate me, and I am fascinated by you, because even though you insisted on hiding the most radiant parts of yourself with shame and tradition, you have made me witness to more cleverness, cunning, wit, and beauty than I have seen in years on this tragic, predictable world."
Thomas stopped in front of Edwin, a deliberate five feet away from him, almost tantalizingly beautiful. "Do you even know why I kept that bracelet on you in the first place?"
The abrupt question jolted Edwin in surprise, briefly clocking his brain back into existence. "For... as punishment," he answered, puzzled. "For using magic on one of your cats. Which you very atrociously underscored by making me count every single one that lived in Port Townsend."
"Because you didn't give me the quick fix of getting rid of you easy." Thomas stepped closer, once, twice, until the only difference between their position and the moment that he'd engraved himself into Edwin's mind forever was the past and the present, the current carrying the weight of all the emotions that still neither knew how to feel. "You have... power over me, Edwin," Thomas forced out, like it stripped him of a fourth life to say it, like it was everything. "Even just temporarily, that stupid spell made us even. And I came to London not to prove that I wanted you any differently, but to see if, at last, we were equal."
For a moment, Edwin stood, fixed in his orbit, aching for a touch that would bring them closer, connect them in more than just potential energy, enraptured by words. "See?" he whispered, so feeble it was pitiful in his own ears. "What do I even say to that?"
"You don't have to say anything, unless you mind me having the last word." Then the Cat King pivoted backwards and stalked off, stealing Edwin's breath away with the tilt and sway of his skirt. “That about sum it up for you?”
Edwin couldn't believe it. Still, he's so impossible.
And he wasn't about to stand one f*cking minute more of it.
“If I have power over you, just what is it do you think you have over me?” Edwin demanded. "You, being as beautiful as you are infuriating, and knowing it." He advanced after him with as much energy as he could control. "You know everything you are, everything you need and want, and how I fascinated you enough for that range to include me is mystery to this day. But what I do know is that ever since that night, that moment when you took me to know me for yourself, you have not left a corner of my mind alone, not in Port Townsend, London, or otherwise.”
Close quarters kept getting closer as the Cat King traipsed on into the box of moonlight reflected onto the ground, letting Edwin catch up to him. “And I’m sure you know that, given how hell bent you were on reviling me until I realized my true feelings, but I need you to know that it was more than that." Edwin gulped in a breath he didn't need to keep his voice from shaking. "That you were the first.” Thomas stopped dead; when he looked at him, the crown was coming off at last. “I‘ve encountered other beings, been adored by them, but still, you’ve been different. All this time, there’s been no one like you.” Edwin came closer, Thomas still watching, something adjacent to worry in his eyes, like Edwin might drop the act. “It was the first thing I couldn’t tell Charles about, the way you made me feel, the things you showed me in that brief moment. Though I was too scared to reach for it, you knew. You gave because you could see what I wanted, what I was too afraid to ask for. You always have.”
Edwin was right there before him now, looking unabashedly. “Your body, your smile, your eyes, the thrill of your skin and voice through me.” He met Thomas' eyes again, noting the tiniest hitch in his breath as he did. “Yet I’ve found that what I value most is what you’ve shared with me since- who you are behind your games, what it truly is that you feel. And with all that I have learned about what it is to want someone, to be undone in their presence, to choose them, I would not rather further that experience with anyone but you.” Softly, Edwin smiled, an expression that seemed to shock him even more. “Despite my denying it in the beginning, I've come to believe that, had I not used magic on one of your cats, I would have stayed asleep much longer. That perhaps it was meant to be you who brought me to the light.”
Eye to eye, nose to nose, there was no way either of them could deny it now.“You awakened something in me, something that changed the course of my life as I know it, and since then I’ve been searching for a way to thank you.”
And the Cat King was finally speechless; something that perhaps only Edwin could make him. This time, it wasn't a dream, but real, a moment he'd been waiting for since Edwin first walked up to his throne like he owned the entirety of Port Townsend. “If it’s really troubling you that much, I could think up a few.”
Behind Thomas' sarcasm, there was hope. And goddamn. Edwin knew he could. They both knew.
"I mean, if it makes you more comfortable, I could jot down a list-"
"Oh, bloody hell," Edwin swore, forgetting all about talking as he strode into the final scrap of space between them, took Thomas' face in his hands and kissed him.
The Cat King couldn't have been more pleasantly surprised- Edwin never did anything less to him, but he gave as good as he always had where Edwin was concerned. In the first pull back, it was just so that Thomas could remember how to breathe, laugh in lieu of it, before he pulled Edwin back to him, guided him through the steps. The kiss was slow, sensual in rhythm, the kind that one had longed for and the other hadn’t gotten to experience the first time, with a touch that savored the hinge of Edwin’s jaw and angular shape of his face, a tongue that parted their lips and tasted out of all the curiosity the ghost had only ever had for material knowledge- this, what he was hungry for now, was a new topic entirely. Edwin let his hands drift, let himself indulge in what he'd had stuck in his mind since the first night in the Cat King's bedroom- one hand roving up over Thomas' fast-paced heartbeat and the other tracing over the shell of his ear, reveling in the white-hot heat of his skin.
Breaking away from his lips, Thomas tasted a trail down the column of Edwin’s throat, pausing at the gasp released when he bit down, continuing at Edwin’s hurried nod to soothe his tongue over the mark he’d left, nuzzle past his shirt collar and feed off the breathy moans echoed into the midnight air.
Blast,Edwin swore mentally into the ceiling, leaving his hands from their grip on Thomas’ shoulders to furiously pull off his gloves. He knewleaving the agency he wouldn’t need them, not whenthiswas what he’d come for, but none of that mattered now; before the second glove even hit the floor, he was pressing Thomas to him by the waist, dragging his fingers up the hard muscle of his back, through those thick bronze curls in a gasp at how finally,he couldfeelhow soft they were.
The exhale Thomas puffed out against his collarbone ran a shudder down Edwin’s spine, lips grazing the mark he’d left on his neck as he looked up to meet Edwin’s eyes, mouth parted in panting faint, incredulous breaths. His cat eye pupils were blown wide, face flushed, like the atoms of his body were coming unglued just from the feel of Edwin’s skin on his. Like it terrifiedhim.
”This… I swear to God, if… if this is some f*cking experiment, some f*cking game, I’m not… I won’t be able to live through the night-“
”It’snot,”Edwin insisted. They’d gone too long thinking that was all it was, all it could be. “This is no game to you or me.” Following another whim, he drew a hand forward, cupped Thomas’ cheek, softened- no,meltedat the Cat King leaning into his palm, eyes half closing like it was the only thing keeping him from falling to his knees. “Oh,” Edwin exhaled, smoothing a thumb over his cheekbone, breathless at the corner of a smile beneath his fate line. “Oh, Thomas.”
Thomas’ hands rose from where they’d been gripping the small of Edwin’s back, tenderly tracing his fingertips over the edges of his face, holding him like he was something impossible, something precious that he’d been looking for for ages. ”Edwin Paine,” he echoed deeply, the words like holy scripture off his tongue. And then they were pulling each other in again, kissing like the world would end if they didn’t, like they’d rather perish again than let the moment go.
There was a moment where they were both stumbling in place, another dance with both partners trying to cross in the exact same direction. But when Edwin edged forward and Thomas backwards, he gave up control, let the ghost direct them in a stumbling waltz. With a clash that continued, a spark of fire off the king’s heel striking the ground, the space around them transformed into the Cat King's private bedroom. Edwin fluttered his eyes barely open in recognition and pulled away briefly, hand grasping the front of the Thomas' collar.
“Did you just-“
”Change of scenery, thought it might be nice not to have eyes on us.”
”Ah, yes, reasonable.”
Thomas reeled him back in by the sway of his waist; Edwin controlled their pace, raking his hands through bronze waves of hair until the back of Thomas' knees buckled on the edge of his mattress and dropped him seated over the blankets. The sudden difference in height wrenched their lips apart, breaking a sigh from the Cat King’s mouth.
Thomas rested his eyes then on Edwin: meticulous ensemble now disheveled, short dark hair loose and bowing towards him, emerald eyes fully open and wanting. “You are an enchantment.”
Edwin took the moment to look at him, citrine half-lidded cat eyes spilling over with desire, this centuries-old royal unguarded and undone from Edwin's hands. For the first time he realized the kind of power he had over Thomas, the power they had over each other, what he was trusting him with. This kind of vulnerability means a lot to us lonely creatures. “Funnily enough, I think I am starting to believe you.”
And Thomas beamed, a shot of sunlight straight through the abyss.“Took you long enough.”
Edwin, cradling his head in his hands, tipped up his chin and kissed him hard, adoring the feline rumble it rose from the back of the Cat King’s throat. Thomas pressed his advantage, moving farther back and taking Edwin with him, one hand on the small of his back at the other gripping the short hair behind his head.
In Edwin’s view, it was flashes of lustful dark and occasional neon light of a turquoise ring surrounding a scarlet crown. When his eyes were open long enough to register Thomas beneath him, wanting him like he always said he had, he let him drag him down into the blankets, flip him onto his back. Edwin had never been kissed into a bed before, felt the spring of the mattress into his shoulder, never kissed back so vigorously like his life depended on it.
There were so many nevers swimming in the pit of his conscience, so many limits he was so close to meeting. Edwin pressed his hand to the Thomas' chest, a signal that made him stop, draw back, giving them a chance to slow down and reach the same pace.
And the Cat King, a man of his word, didn’t go any farther. He tipped his forehead to Edwin’s, both of them sharing the intimate simplicity of each other’s breath and scent. Then he collapsed onto the other side of the bed, propping himself up on an elbow, watching Edwin pull himself back together. “Live up to the expectation, ghostie?”
Even though he'd just had Thomas' tongue in his mouth, Edwin wasn’t so weak as to let him have the satisfaction of knowing he rocked his world right away. “A little sloppy in the beginning," he replied, transferring all the gravity he could into his voice. "I assume you’ve been out of practice, but you made up for it in the end.”
Thomas' brow's twitched up, puffing out an incredulous laugh. "Asshole." They didn't really do much more but lie there and laugh at it for a while, this moment and the guy they just made out with and the feeling of finally.
But of course, the present didn't leave the Cat King completely devoid of all memory. “Wait. You said you’d only give your second kiss to someone you-“
Edwin groaned. “Oh, God, I thought we'd skipped through that part.”
“Holy crap- you like me!”
“And you can shut up about it! I’m sure your citizens have been having a jolly good time listening to us bang about.”
Thomas cackled; not some smug, evil sound, either. It was genuine, almost childish joy that rolled him flat on his back, tumbled the laughs out in triumphant giggles. His curls were loose around his face, brushing his cheeks, more boyish than royal had ever been. Edwin turned himself over to watch it, which the cat in him definitely enjoyed.
“If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I’m going to catch a cold.”
“Can you really blame a man just to look?”
And Thomas didn’t melt at that, didn't feel his heart spread through his chest, completely lose it at his own line being used against him. But his smile softened on the outside, sweeter than it had ever looked on a throne. “You look as long as you like,” he told Edwin, pulling him in. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Notes:
Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding
Chapter 16: Wild Heart
Summary:
An epilogue chapter, filled with bits from the morning after and what we can expect from the supernatural pair! A great thanks for everyone who has made it this far <3
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
In the morning after a delirious night spent kissing and bickering, Thomas woke to find himself alone in his bedroom, a tiny scrap of paper left where Edwin had been beside him.
Unfolding it, the contents of Edwin's academically artistic handwriting read: If I loved you less, I might talk about it more. (Perhaps I shall.)*
"Sire!" A cat called out behind him. "You've got another call from the detectives!"
"In a minute, Torelai," the Cat King replied, dreamy, pathetic smile overtaking his face as he collapsed back onto the blankets. "Just a minute."
Five hours ahead in London, Edwin was back in his desk, all ruffles tamed after spending the second half of his night batting away the agency's burning questions.
"I'm afraid I'll have to leave you guessing," Edwin had replied swiftly, straightening the bowtie Crystal had pointed out as crooked. "A gentleman does not kiss and tell."
But of course, that just led to Charles chasing him down with, "Wait, you guys kissed?!”
Edwin was lucky if he had been able to contribute anything at all useful to the day's case notes before the Cat King arrived that evening, greeting with a smile for Niko, a snark for Crystal and even a lightly backhanded barb for Charles, which Edwin smiled at when they all politely left the room for the ghost to welcome him inside.
Thomas looked at him like the night's rest neither of them had gotten, insidiously charming in a maroon leather jacket, black sweater, and blue Levi's. With a wave of his hand, a single red camellia appeared out of the flames to rest in his palm. "I thought it'd be a nice gift," he murmured, shyly meeting Edwin's eyes. "Y'know. For old time's sake."
Edwin couldn't do much more than accept the flower with a smile, follow the knee jerk step into Thomas' space. "The gesture is much appreciated," he promised, the both of them leaning in for a proper good morning.
"Oh, my God," Crystal muttered, watching between Charles and Niko's heads from the other room.
"I feel like such a proud mother right now," Niko sniffled.
"Maybe that's what happened when he vanished that first time," Charles considered.
Naturally, none of them were able to back up in time to escape Edwin's eagle eyes and disappointed groan, underscored by the Cat Kinglaughing it off, having walked in knowing that getting with this guy's good graces would mean getting those of his friends.
And yes, there would definitely be more in the future- more in terms of everything, such as communication about interests shared and separate, punctuated by the dates that would take place in notable locations like the Shakespeare Rose Garden and Powell’s, which Thomas introduced with a sinful whisper into Edwin's ear as the biggest library in Oregon. (It also ended up with him being his personal book carrier instead of his date for a time, but really, he hadn’t expect anything different.)
There would also be more they learned about about Edwin’s past in the 1900’s and Thomas' past in all three of his previous lives, as well as the pains of hell and multiple unfun deaths discussed on Primrose Hill and outside a London cafe. There were times for the gifts that Thomas sent- cuff links for Edwin's shirts, bejeweled pins to jazz up his suits, books about age-old mythology, and in turn the jobs Edwin still called him for, because Scooby Doo still had some semblance of responsibility in Mystery Incorporated.
"Comeon,Puss in Boots," Crystal called down the hall. "You know how pissy those orcs get!"
"Hey, you know the name! Use it!" the Cat King complained.
"See you outside, Thomas!" said Niko, cheerfully closing the door behind her.
"Best not keep them waiting." Edwin plopped down tiredly into his seat with a colossal stack of research papers that, even after Charles lifted the other half, still stood high enough to reach his chin. "Even when you get back, Charles and I will still be swamped with leagues of Chinese mythology."
Thomas glanced between the desk and the door, trying to decide which route to take before he ultimately gave in, sighed up into the ceiling. "Shaggy and Daphne take waytoo much advantage of their scary dog privilege." Grabbing his fur coat off the globe, Thomas leaned in next to Edwin's desk one last time. "I'll be gone twenty minutes tops- if those orcs try to make it any longer, I'll burn them to a crisp. The second I get back here, I'm all yours."
Edwin rolled his groggy eyes up to him. "I'll hold you to that against the bloody wall if I have to."
With his thumb and forefingers, the Cat King tilted up his head and pressed a kiss to his cheek, a fleeting zip of elixir that graced a grateful smile over Edwin's face before he headed for the door. "Make sure he doesn't fry himself, Charles."
"Take care, Whiskers!" Charles called after him, sneaking a look up at Edwin's still-smiling face at the papers even after the door closed. "Awww," he cooed, laughingly dodging the book that was hurled at his arm.
Most definitely, there were times for the visits they made to each others’ respective spaces just to be there: one particular example being watching masterpieces of cinema in Niko’s room such as The Great British Baking Show.
“Temper your chocolates, you f*cking idiot!" Thomas yelled at the screen.
“You’re aware they can’t hear you, right?" giggled Edwin. "Even I figured that out.”
“Well, they should! That’s how Rob got chopped in the last episode.”
“Look at you, taking such an interest in the mundane," Edwin teased, jabbing him with an elbow. "Someone might be getting a touch domesticated."
"How dare you." Next thing Edwin knew the Cat King was tackling him laughing into the covers of Niko's bed. “The insolence! You’re defiling a royal over here- even a ghost should have some respect!”
But Edwin had given in to his giggles too long ago to protest, to do anything but wrap his arms around his neck and admit defeat. And Thomas- well, he already knew for a while that he'd been falling; this was just a reminder. He accepted it willingly, melting into his arms and nestling his head in the crook of his collarbone, purring contentedly in Edwin's embrace.
The agency found them like that, TV still playing, Edwin with his eyes closed, stroking the Cat King's hair while he dozed peacefully away. Niko snapped a picture for commemoration, Crystal turned off the TV, and Charles shot Edwin a thumbs up before giving them their privacy.
And there was definitely a time for agreeing to what they were, what they deep down always had been, when Thomas nonchalantly brought up the possibility of 'boyfriend' as a contending title, and Edwin agreed on the spot. And to say nothing of the nights in which they accepted it with all they had, all they were able to give each other without any use of spells.
“And you’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Like, really sure?”
“Meant it the first time, Thomas.”
Thomas held up his hands. “Well, I’m sorry, just, given our track record, it feels like something I’d need in writing from you.”
“Oh, my God.” Edwin whipped out a notebook and angrily slashed at the paper with a pen.
“Hold on- were you going to keep that on you while we were having-"
“No!” Edwin shoved the Cat King backwards onto the bed cackling, letting the notebook clatter to the floor, pages still open scrawled over with the word YES.
There was a time for when Edwin pushed the the heavy coat off Thomas' shoulders, peeled off the shirt from his skin and started by resting his palm on that red-and-white loverboywaistband, trailing his hand up summery warm planes and valleys of bare skin in awe, feeling up the column of Thomas' neck and past his jaw to caress the side of his face; when all truths came to light like the climax of a case, burning up in the heat of the Cat King’s ravenous gaze. And when it was Edwin slipping off his blazer, bow tie, waistcoat, his hands trembling over the buttons of his dress shirt, Thomas rose to take the task into his own hands, drop away all the layers of Edwin’s old-fashioned sensibilities to see him for all he was; when he cherished the moment to revere it like the penitent he was, pressing a kiss where Edwin’s heart felt like it could almost start beating again, before showing him exactly what kind of fascinations he’d been referring to. Under the cover of midnight, backs pressed into silken bedsheets, and the only borders between them were skin and skin, hands lacing up in each other, locking in a moment only they could truly know.
The more time that passed, the more their opposite ends of each others' corners of the world became less of an escape, more a part of their own. There would be stretches of time where the agency would conduct their business in the office Thomas set up in the warehouse at Port Townsend, set up beach days and visit whatever bands were playing at the Peach Pit in the nights when they weren't working. Niko, whenever the pair required their alone time, would bring Crystal and Charles out for walks in the town, leaving Edwin and Thomas to what could be as simple as slow-dancing in his bedroom to a 20th century classic of Edwin's choice. And when they did inevitably return to London, it was the Cat King who carved his own little niche in the office: dozing in the bed atop the bookcase that Niko had bought for him, receiving news from envoys in Port Townsend, and not just to put off the commute. Every now and then, Edwin would take his reading to the couch, find his hand stroking hair instead of cat fur, and lean down to kiss Thomas' head resting on his thigh, if only just to meet his eyes opening in a drowsy smile from sleep.
Edwin had formerly thought of the Cat King as a statue of sorts- a decorated chiaroscuro model of solid, sunlit gold with a rotten, rotten core. But even then, that was an unfair method of judgement. Everyone could pick and choose what they brought to the surface, and Thomas was no different. He had built his own image for himself as an armor, flash and flirtations guarding the layers of sincerity, each a different page of the same book. It was still part of him, that rakish radiance, but the more Edwin got to know what had been behind it for so long, the more he found he enjoyed the subtext he found underneath the original story, how much it kept on giving. Thomas was, if he were to be described in at least a word, endless.
And the Cat King? Well, he was still getting used to being called 'boyfriend,' after a few good decades of swearing off the label by a guy who had never been or had one himself. But funnily enough, he couldn't have wished for anything different- he had friends who hadn't been his at first, but now called him Thomas when he walked into a room, inside jokes born from jobs gone way too wrong, a place to go when the USA was way too f*cked up to live. With Edwin, all his pride and stubbornness and politesse, even though he was hell bent on making his afterlife as much of a challenge as could be, everything was easy.
For now, though, it was just Edwin and Thomas, a London ghost detective seated over a case file while a royal from a mystical Washington small town handed him the book he was reaching for, both their eyes meeting over an uncharacteristically shy smile. Really, none of it was in character for either of them, but the rest would unfold on its own.
Notes:
Wild Heart - Towa Bird
+ "If I loved you less I might talk about it more" - yes that was a quote from Emma, Edwin would totally have been an Austen fan
+ playlist to all the songs that remind me of CatWin - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5UscpKtwymurdt4qFTvg61
+ AU ideas that I came up with for this fic, feel free to use them how you wish:
The road trip job
- Like they’re going on a job that requires the gang to like go out of town and bc Cat’s an official part of the team they get this van that takes them out
- And of course they all switch drivers bc everyone has different energy levels, so the unavoidable conflict rises immediately- their differing music tastes
- Crystal’s taste is like a lot of grunge and rock and stuff like that, mostly a lot of indie bands that not everyone knows (but I bet she teaches Edwin more about Phoebe Bridgers)
- Cat’s is like Billie Eillish/Troye Sivan bonerjams kinda sh*t, so yeah it’s a vibe but not everyone’s with it (esp. Charles who keeps looking at Ed in the front seat with him, who just will not stop blushing)
- Edwin’s is like strictly classical/instrumental music, like dude was jamming to Mozart when it was cool, and everyone’s just dozing off to that even though they’re trying to plan (even the Cat King’s taking a nap, he loves his Eddie boy, but some things just can’t be done)
- Niko’s just a bunch of sugary Jpop and mxmtoon and other lovely stuff like that, and no one really says anything about that (at least not to her face) bc she’s Niko and she’s an angel
- And then it’s Charles’ turn and the first thing that comes up is Hall & Oates “You Make My Dreams Come True”
- Now everyone perks up at this, bc who doesn’t know this song, but this triggers Cat especially, bc how tf did this mfer who he kinda (fake) hates guess his favorite 80’s karaoke song
- And so the minute the first verse hits, it’s him who’s singing “What I want-“ and the whole car loses it, f*cking cackling along through “you got that might be hard to handle, like a flame that burns a candle,” and of course Charles harmonizes through “The candle feeds the flame.”
- And he’s just rocking the whole song, kinda devoting it to Edwin, who actually knows some of the words so he sings along a little, Crystal and Niko get to singing the backup vocals while Charles hypes them
- And you just know you KNOW that when Cat hits the main “well YOU” high note part after the bridge and everyone just cracks tf up
- Afterwards, it’s applause from the whole car, laughter and cheers all around, and we know finally who’s getting the aux for the rest of the trip.The club job
- For this one, idk what it is yet, but some magical threat brings the gang to this club that's stuck in the 80's
- And yeah maybe we should be concerned but this place is blasting the best 80's jams ever known to this world, so who's really complaining
- Crystal goes off to Whitney Houston, Niko absolutely adores Culture Club, the Cat King and Charles totally get into an argument on who's better, Tears for Fears or AC/DC
- Edwin's pretty out of his depth, but he does bop to some George Michael
- Later there's gotta be this scene where like they're at the bar and then David Bowie's "Let's Dance" starts playing, which makes everyone ABSOLUTELY lose their minds
-Edwin's about to stay behind but Cat yells "Charles make him dance!" and next thing you know, he's out there with them, getting an education on the good sh*t
-And of course there has to be a scene where the Cat King and Edwin dance to an 80's love song, but yknow use your imagination.That is all, thank you everyone for reading, I just wrote this bc I could not get the pairing of Edwin and the Cat King out of my head. Honestly, I just feel that they've got so much more to their story other than just Port Townsend (like "You'll miss me" at the end was definitely not a goodbye). Also, yes, I do love the idea that the Cat King would somewhat reluctantly become the Scooby to their Mystery Inc. gang, and it could totally happen if Netflix isn't a little bitch. Stan DBD, dearly beloved and departed. Have fun storming the castle~!