Chapter Text
“Have you ever tried solitaire?” Niko asks as she watches Charles lose at Minesweeper for the fifth time since she's sat next to him. They’re in the office waiting on Autumn and George, having had a few days to recover from everything that's happened. Charles honestly can’t wait to have this all over and done with so he can never think about this case again.
“I'm not going to play solitaire until I've beat this game,” Charles growls as he presses on the bomb for a sixth bloody time.
“Just look up the rules, idiot,” Crystal says and Charles sticks his tongue out at her. He gets the middle finger for his troubles.
A moment later, Edwin enters with George, but Autumn is noticeably absent.
“Autumn not joining us?” Charles asks, expecting her to be outside or something.
Edwin blinks and then shrugs bewilderedly. “She moved on.”
Crystal gasps, Charles stands, and Niko covers her mouth in shock. George looks…mostly fine.
“She said after Malcolm died, she didn't need to worry he'd kill anymore people. She wanted to be at peace, she was ready to go the moment she drank that vial,” George tells them.
“What about you?” Charles asks and George shrugs.
“I'd like to know what it was and that no one else can get ahold of it, but I feel pretty ready to head out.”
“You are remarkably calm about all this,” Edwin says and George blinks languidly at him.
“After the fire burned out, it was just warm, like afternoon tea with my gran. I can't really explain it.”
He remembers Autumn’s similar odd calmness not long after her death and Charles can't help the smile that starts tugging at his lips. You took care of them, he tells Mnemosyne, even when you didn't realize.
-
Charles doesn't remember much about his life, but he remembers so much about the after. He remembers the first time he made Edwin laugh, the rush of solving their first case, the first time Edwin sat at his desk looking like he’d always belonged there. He remembers the first time Edwin said he loved Charles, long before the steps of Hell, and the first time Charles was able to say it back in the way Edwin needed. It’s the big things and the little things he cherishes. The sun haloing Edwin in the morning light, the bright burst of joy at every touch and kiss, the wavy rumple of his hair when he lets it down, the soft toothy grin that belongs to Charles and Charles alone.
He thinks of every moment that brought them closer together, pushing into each other’s orbits until there was no space left between them. He presses each one into his mind like a polaroid in a scrapbook, and prays they each stay in place. For a long time, he worried about them fading, the way they had so often done in his living days, but he knows better now. Every precious and fleeting moment is held with utmost care, and Charles will never lose them so long as the world turns and Memory lives on.