Lost
I am something
I have been something
I was born something
What could I be?
There is a light that I can see
But only, it seems, when there's darkness in me
There is a dream that I sometimes see
That only appears in the dark of sleep
“Abbey” - Mitski
Charlie wakes to a familiar angry thumping sound by his head, followed by a mound of fluff landing on his face. He groans, cracking one eye open to gaze up at the fluffy black and white rabbit. “Good morning to you, too, Mr. Scratch,” he grumbles.
‘Up! Food!’
More angry thumping, this time directly on his forehead.
“Fine, fine. I’m up!” He grabs the rabbit and holds him aloft. “Why are you such a menace in the mornings, hm?”
Charlie complains, but really he loves this creature more than he loves himself. Possibly even most of his family.
Mr. Scratch is a free roaming rabbit– at least in Charlie and Tori’s rooms, and the rest of the house only when his parents aren’t home or awake. His mum despises the creature and his dad has reached an uneasy peace with him, finally to the point where Mr. Scratch doesn’t attack on sight. Usually, that is.
‘Bite,’ his little bunny mind would whisper as he thumped aggressively upon seeing Charlie’s parents.
‘Absolutely not. That’s how you become a stew,’ Charlie’s mind would whisper back.
Charlie isn’t quite sure if it’s normal for rabbits to have human-like thoughts. But then again he’s also not supposed to be able to hear the constant stream of thoughts around him either. Either way, he’s not going to mention it lest he be threatened with another round of hospitalization. This is simply another secret he keeps to himself. And Mr. Scratch, he supposes.
Mr. Scratch had been a peace-offering from his dad a few months after the accident. Things in the house had been tense; Charlie not recovering any of his memories and growing more frustrated and moody with every therapy and specialist appointment. Julio Spring had remembered him insisting he had a dog and one day when he came home from school there he was in all his fluffy glory. It was an effort to make Charlie happy, one of the few that worked. He's pretty sure that was the very first time he hugged his father after the accident.
Mr. Scratch had become another best friend, an emotional support bunny. Sometimes it feels like this strange rabbit is the only being he can truly confide in. The only safe thing he can confide in.
And how pathetic is that.
But really, what other choice did he have?
Groaning, he forces himself up, dropping Mr. Scratch onto the bed and stealing a glance at his phone. He groans again when he realizes the rabbit has decided to wake him up an hour and a half early.
"You little shit."
'Food!'
Mr. Scratch does indeed get his first meal of the day at precisely 5:47am before curling back up in the crook of Charlie's knees as he aimlessly scrolled Instagram in an effort to stay awake. If he goes back to sleep now, he will never wake up on time. And Tori already complains when his morning routine nearly makes them late for the bus multiple times a week.
______________
“We’re going to be late if you don’t hurry up.”
“Jesus, Tori!” The eyeliner pencil falls from Charlie’s hand as he narrowly avoids drawing all over his face. He whirls around to face her, only mildly annoyed at the interruption. “How do you just appear out of thin air?”
Tori shrugs, finishing off the rest of her drink before speaking. “Older sister magic.” She gives him an appraising look, a little smirk forming on her face as she leans against the doorframe. “Shaved eyebrow and earrings? How edgy of you, Charles.”
Charlie rolls his eyes, bending down to pick up the pencil so he can finish his makeup.
“I hope you know mum is going to freak when she sees you,” she continues. “When did you even have time to get those done?”
Charlie grimaces, the thought of the confrontation to come filling him with a mixture of anxiety and frustration. “Everything I do upsets her anyway. What else is new,” he mumbles, doing a final passing swipe over his left eyelid. “And Elle maaaay have pierced my ears yesterday at Tao’s,” he confesses, a sheepish smile on his face as he turns to look at his sister.
Tori raises a brow.
“If you get an infection and your ear falls off while you’re sleeping it’s your own fault,” she deadpans. “I’m not taking you to A&E.”
“Thanks,” he mumbles. “Always glad to know my big sister has my back.”
For the past two and a half years, Tori has been the only one in their family who truly tried to understand. Who tried to get to know him without the expectation of him being the version of himself he can no longer remember. The doctors had tried, therapists had tried, his parents had tried. But no matter what he did everything it seemed was just….gone.
It made his parents angry. Mostly his mum if he’s being honest.
She’s convinced that he’s either playing it up for attention, or just not trying hard enough. Whatever that means. Does she think that Charlie hasn’t tried everything to make the memories come back? That he wouldn’t give anything to go back to some semblance of normal where he doesn’t feel out of place in his own home? His own life? His own body ?
Tori is the only one who stands up for him. Olly is too young to fully understand what’s happening. He just knows that Charlie is different now and it makes their parents upset. He shouldn’t be involved in their arguments anyway. His dad is more sympathetic, more understanding and gentle about things in his own way. But he rarely has it in him to stand up to his wife. And it makes Charlie…angry.
“I just want my son back!”
It had started over food, of all things. They had been eating dinner together, and for once it had seemingly been going well. His mum was more relaxed than he could remember her being since he came home from the hospital. His dad was cracking his normal jokes while Olly giggled and Tori rolled her eyes.
He had even contributed to the conversation occasionally
“Is that all you’re going eat?” his mum asked suddenly, staring pointedly at his still half-full plate. “I even went through the trouble of making your favorite, Charlie. The least you could do is eat it.”
Charlie wrinkled his nose, still moving the food around his plate with his fork. “I uh….I don’t really..” he trails off, voice getting quieter as he hunches in on himself. “I don’t think it is?”
“Of course it is!
His dad looks uncertainly between the two of them. “Jane. I don’t think-”
She slams her fists on the table. “Oh, stop coddling him, Julio! The doctors said that the amnesia should have resolved itself by now. He’s obviously just using it to get attention and get away with things. He’s always been dramatic-”
“Jane!”
“No! It’s true and you know it. What’s so wrong with me wanting my son back?”
Charlie felt the tears gathering in his eyes, his lower lip quivering as he tried desperately to hold back the sobs threatening to escape him for the second time that day. “But I am your son,” he says desperately. “Mum I am-”
“Then act like it, Charlie! Stop this charade of yours and just be normal! You always do everything in your power to make my life difficult-”
It had devolved into a screaming match shortly after that. Charlie had been thankful that Olly was spending the night with their grandparents and wasn’t there to hear it.
Before he knew it his dad had finally decided to step in, arguing loudly (albeit a little weakly) with his mum instead of Charlie. Charlie sat frozen in the chair, unable to contain the tears welling up in his eyes.
His sobs came in earnest as he curled in on himself, hands over his ears as he tried desperately to block out both the verbal yelling and the thoughts that were bombarding him and making it feel like his head was on the verge of splitting open.
Just when he thought he was going to lose it completely, he felt Tori’s arms around him. “Come on, Charlie. Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered, ushering him to his feet.
He spent the night curled up next to Tori, trying to figure out what he had done wrong and why his mum hated him so much.
“Charlie?” Tori’s voice draws him out of his thoughts and he shakes his head, blinking furiously as his eyes begin to water. She’s giving him that concerned look he hates so much. He hates worrying her, hates it that she has a reason to be worried about him. Maybe their mother is right after all. All he does is make people’s lives miserable. He sighs.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired this morning I guess,” he answered her unspoken question.
‘He’s lying again,’ her mind whispers. ‘Like he always does.’
I know, he wants to say. I know I’m lying and I know I keep making things difficult for you and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry .
Instead he forces a smile on his face, fixing his hair one last time before flicking the bathroom light off. “You’re right, we should probably get a move on if we don’t want to miss the bus. Come on.” He brushes past her quickly, refusing to meet her gaze as he darts down the stairs to grab his coat. She follows slowly behind him and Charlie winces as he accidentally peeks into her mind again.
At the way the dark emotions and thoughts that always follow her are worse today.
The walk to the bus stop is quiet, the only sound being the scuffing of their shoes on the pavement and the sound of things moving around in their bags. Charlie glances over at Tori occasionally, trying desperately not to invade her mind more than he already has today. But he can’t bring himself to ignore the dark whispers and the anxiety emanating from her.
So he reaches out and tentatively takes her hand in his own, giving it a squeeze.
She looks over at him briefly. “Gross,” she says. Though she doesn’t let go of his hand until they are both on their bus.
They’re halfway to Truham and Higgs when his phone vibrates in his pocket.
Ben❤️: Can’t wait to see you x
Ben❤️: Meet in the library before form?
Ben.
“What's got you so smiley all of a sudden?"
Charlie jumps, jerking his phone away before his sister has the chance to potentially see anything.
"Nothing!" he squeaks, hastily shoving the phone into his pocket. "Just...just some stupid thing Tao sent in the group chat."
Tori raises a brow. "Hmm. If you say so."
______________
With a quick wave to Tori after stepping off the bus, Charlie finds himself practically skipping towards the school library, heart fluttering in anticipation. He's finally going to see Ben.
Charlie had tried to convince him to meet up during the winter break. After all, it was much less risky than meeting up in school where anyone could walk in on them. He had even invited Ben to the house after the other boy said that meeting at his place wouldn't work. But Ben always refused. He tried not to dwell on that too much. After all, Ben is still in the process of figuring things out. The idea of being open around either of their families might scare him as much as it does to be open around people at their school.
And Ben is nice to him.
For the most part.
Obviously he doesn't really acknowledge Charlie in the halls or during lunch. They had both agreed it would be the best if they want to keep their relationship a secret. But they text, and sometimes talk on the phone. Sometimes Ben even surprises him with little gifts he picked up. Truly, it could be worse.
"Ben?" Charlie calls out quietly, peeking around the stacks as he approaches their usual spot near the back. But the other boy is nowhere to be seen. He stands in the middle of the aisle for a moment, wondering if Ben is just running a little behind schedule. But as five, ten minutes pass, Charlie can feel the giddiness begin to rapidly fade. Was Ben not coming? Had he done something wrong? Surely Ben would have told him if he had...right?
Bzzz.
The buzzing of his phone draws him out of his head before he can completely spiral.
Ben❤️: Actually can we meet at break instead? Band room?
Charlie clutches his phone tightly, swallowing down the disappointment at being stood up and blinking away the mild burning sensation in his eyes. He had really been looking forward to seeing Ben after so long, after having such a shitty Christmas with his family. Ben is one of the only things he has to look forward to at Truham every day.
But Charlie is sure Ben must have his reasons. He's cancelled on Charlie before like this, and always apologizes when they finally meet up later or the next day.
Charlie: of course! see you then ❤️❤️❤️
With a heavy sigh he stows his phone back in his pocket and hoists his bag over his shoulder.
He should probably get to form.
______________
He steps into the designated classroom, already ready for this day to be over before it had even truly began so he can just go home and hide in his room.
“Well, if it isn’t Charlie Spring. Happy new year. Come to join Hamlet House?” Mr. Lange asked with false cheer.
“That’s what it said on my schedule,” he mumbles, ready for this conversation to be over.
Mr. Lange glances back down at the sheet in front of him. “Now where did I put you on the seating chart? Ah, yes, you’re over there,” he gestures towards the back of the classroom. “Next to Nick Nelson. He’s in Year 11, so only a year older than you. One of the rugby boys too, I think. I’m sure you’ll both get along swimmingly. Maybe you can regale him with all your stories from America.”
Charlie hums noncommittally, clenching his fist at the joke he has heard one too many times these past few years. Maybe he should have worked harder on relearning his family’s accent. He’s gotten good at pretending, at mimicking the speech patterns of his family and friends. But it always felt wrong on his tongue, and he often finds himself slipping or changing accents at random intervals. Much to the amusement of his classmates.
“Or you can just sit in silence for the rest of the year. It really doesn’t affect me in any way whatsoever.”
Charlie rolls his eyes, adjusting his bag on his shoulder before making his way to his designated spot.
He takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the semester of hell is about to endure trapped next to a boy from the rugby team. He only vaguely recognizes the name, but he assumes he must be one of the boys who shoved him into walls and harassed him in the changing rooms and made every effort to ensure he never had a good day at Truham last year. Or at the very least friends with any number of them. He approaches the table, bracing himself for the annoyed scoff, the insults flowing quietly into his mind that they weren't aware he could hear. While he makes an effort to not read the minds of those closest to him, he often keeps his feelers out, so to speak, around the general population of the school to avoid the bullies when possible.
Charlie stops a few feet from the table
He doesn't recognize him as one of the ones who bullied him last year. He looks somewhat familiar, but not familiar enough for them to have truly interacted before. He's certain he would have remembered a cute ginger with a light dusting of freckles across his nose and great arms talking to him.
Wait.
Nick looks up from his work, tilting his head ever so slightly in a way that reminded Charlie of his neighbor's golden retriever. A gentle, easy smile spreads across his face as he regards Charlie for a moment, not a hint of disgust or anger and malice in his expression. Just....kindness. His heart stutters in his chest.
Oh no.
“H-Hi,” Charlie says, voice slightly too high as he fidgets nervously at the edge of the desk,
“Hi.” And somehow Nick's expression seems to become even softer as if he can sense the nervous energy that Charlie must be radiating and doesn't want to frighten him.
Charlie knows this is the part where he should introduce himself and sit down like a normal person, but all the words die on his tongue as his brain struggles to form a coherent response. Warmth blooms on his face and he sincerely hopes it's not dark enough to notice. Oh, God. How is he this embarrassing as a person? His heart continues to beat a little faster than it should and suddenly there's a loud ringing in his ears, muffling the sounds around him. What feels like static electricity runs up and down his arms, accompanied by the sensation of needing to do something to make it stop. He just doesn't know what or what this feeling is or why Nick Nelson is still staring at him with a slightly worried look in his eye.
Charlie can see Nick's mouth moving as he continues to feel the weird sensations coursing through him, but can't make out the words he's saying to him. Is this bad? Is he dying? Is he-
Bang!
Startled cries erupt in the room as the classroom door flies open and slams into the wall and all the windows simultaneously open. One of the light fixtures in the front of the classroom explodes, sending sparks and pieces of the fluorescent light raining down. Thankfully not on any of the students. The noise is loud enough to startle Charlie out of whatever state he had been trapped in moments ago, and he lets out a sigh of relief as the ringing in his ears and the tingling feeling shooting up and down his arms recedes.
His relief is temporary as seconds later he feels a sharp pain in his head.
Blue light surrounds his hands, the projectiles that had been flying towards him and his brother stopped in mid-air before being fired back where they came from.
'Wow, Billy! That's so cool.'
Did he just....
Charlie clenches his jaw, giving his head a shake as he once again pulls himself back into the present moment. He can't slip. Not here, not now while Nick is still very frantically looking between the chaos that is happening in the front of the classroom and Charlie, as if he doesn't know which one he should be focusing on more.
Fuck.
"Alright, alright, calm down everyone! Back to your seats," Mr. Lange shouts over the commotion as he stands from his desk to assess the damage and begin closing windows. Charlie manages to catch a slew of confused thoughts from the man as he roamed around the room and desperately tried to figure out what happened.
Shakily, he lowers himself into the seat, fumbling with his bag as he attempts to pull out his work for the hour. A sudden hand on his arm nearly causes him to throw his papers, and he whips his head around to see Nick, a small frown on the other boys face as he leans in closer to Charlie. "Are you okay? You didn't look so good a few moments ago. Do you need to go to the nurse? I can walk you there."
"No! No, I..I'm fine," Charlie tries to assure him, plastering a smile on his face. "Really. Thank you though."
Charlie can see that Nick doesn't believe a word of his lie, and just barely catches him thinking it before he slams down the metaphorical barrier between their thoughts. But the other boy relents with a soft sigh. "Alright, if you say so." Nick gives him one last smile before dutifully turning back to his coursework, attempting to ignore the continued ruckus at the front of the classroom.
Charlie also tries to ignore the hum of activity in the classroom and focus on his work. The keyword being tried.
If he only finishes half of his work and steals about fifty glances at Nick Nelson instead, well, that is a problem for future Charlie Spring to worry about.
When the bell finally, finally rings, signaling the end of Form, Charlie practically leaps from his seat, nearly knocking into Nick who shoots him a surprised look.
“Are you sure you're alright?” the other boy asks, a note of genuine concern in his voice.
“Yeah! Yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Just have to be somewhere really soon. Bye!”
Nick blinks, a bemused expression on his face as Charlie races towards the door. “Uh, bye then!”
______________
When Charlie arrives in the band room, quietly closing the door behind him, Ben is already there. He's leaning against the wall, scrolling away on his phone until he notices Charlie hovering near the entry way. Pocketing the device he runs a hand through his hair and gives Charlie a smile.
"Hey. Sorry about earlier."
Charlie shakes his head. "It's fine, really. Don't worry about it."
Ben moves until he's standing directly in front of Charlie. "I missed your face so much," he says quietly, causing a smile to light up Charlie's face and a familiar heat to gather in his cheeks. His earlier disappointment gone now that Ben was finally here.
"Really? Did you have a good Christmas?" Charlie asks, attempting to make conversation.
"Yeah," Ben nods, "it was alright. You?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it was good. Um..my whole family was around on Christmas day and then-"
Before he can finish his sentence Ben pulls him into a kiss, effectively ending the conversation. "You're so cute," he whispers against Charlie's lips before kissing him again, fingers digging painfully into the back of his neck. It goes on until the next bell rings and Ben pulls away quickly, wiping his mouth as he does so. The smile on his face fades back into the cool indifference Charlie is used to encountering in the halls.
"See you later then, yeah?" Ben asks, picking up his bag. "Still don't tell anyone about this."
Charlie hunches in on himself, a familiar feeling of shame welling up inside of him. "Oh. Um.." But Ben is already out of the door before he can finish his sentence.
"Bye..."
______________
By the time he sits down for lunch he's ready to give up. Maybe if he faked sick his dad would come pick him up? His mum would never, but his dad would show up with barely an issue if he called. Between his usual rough nights, the incident in Form, and his meeting with Ben, Charlie simply does not have the energy to keep up with anything else today. He's almost ready to force himself out of his seat and enact his plan when someone sets their stuff loudly on the table next to him.
“Alright, Charlie?”
“Hm?” Charlie's head jerks up from the table surprise, having been too preoccupied with his own thoughts to track who might be coming near him. To his relief it's just Tao. "Oh. Hey, Tao." His voice sounds tired and pathetic even to his own ears. Tao raises a brow.
“Another headache. Or....?" Tao asks, plopping down on the bench next to him. Charlie hears the unspoken question- literally hears it despite his best efforts not to peek into Tao's mind; have people been bothering you again?
“Just a headache, Tao. Nothing to worry about,” Charlie says quietly. Tao gives him a look as he slides Charlie a bottle of orange juice from the canteen and half of his sandwich.
"You're a terrible liar, Charlie Spring. Do you know that?" Tao gives his shoulder a hard poke. "And make sure you actually eat something. You look like you're about to keel over and I physically cannot carry you to the infirmary."
Tao is his best friend. One of the few people who didn’t care that he “came back weird” after the accident. The other students had avoided him at first, whispering and laughing behind his back like he couldn’t hear them. And maybe he hadn’t been able to hear the actual whispers, but he could still hear the cruel thoughts directed at him. Charlie hadn’t been good at filtering them out then. Tao hadn’t cared about his interest in “witchy stuff” and let him ramble on about it as long as he wanted. He didn’t tease him when he came to school with eyeliner and nail polish for the first time, clumsily put on with unsure thirteen year old hands (and may have gotten detention on his behalf for arguing with a teacher about it too). He's there for him on bad days, even if Charlie is never quite as open and honest about what's bothering him as he probably should be.
He loves Elle and Isaac. So, so, so much. But Tao, along with Tori, had truly been his rock while he tried desperately to piece his life back together.
Tao also has an annoying ability of being able to tell when something is even mildly wrong with Charlie. It makes keeping his problems to himself rather difficult.
"Hey," Tao says, brow furrowed in concern, "you know you can talk to me, right?"
I know. I know I should but I can't. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
"I know," is all he says.
“Anyone I need to-” “Punch?” Charlie cuts him off, wincing when realizes that he had accidentally been peeking into Tao’s thoughts again. He needs to get a hold of himself today. “Sorry.”
“I was going to say give them a strong verbal lashing. But I suppose I can resort to physical violence too.” He bumps his shoulder against Charlie’s. “And stop saying sorry. I’m going to get a sorry jar just for you. You’ll single-handedly fund my entire uni education.”
Charlie just laughs, scooting over to lean his head on Tao’s shoulder.
They sit in silence for a moment– Tao eating his lunch and Charlie on the verge of falling asleep, but then Tao’s voice
“Do you want to talk about it?" the taller boy asks quietly.
“No, it’s fine,” he answers quickly. “There's nothing to worry about. Really."
He’s lying. Again. Why won’t he just tell me?
Charlie swallows, a familiar cold dread settling in his stomach. He knows he's lying. He knows that if there's anyone on this planet besides Tori he could confide in about what's going on- at home, at school, with Ben, it's Tao. Tao wouldn't abandon him, probably. Not even if Charlie told him about the weird stuff. But...he didn't want to take that chance. He couldn't. Even if he knows it bothers Tao that he won't just let him help him. He's sorry. He's so-
“I'm sorry,” he mumbles, burying his face in Tao’s blazer.
Tao sighs loudly and dramatically, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and holding him tight. “It’s okay, Charlie.” A pause. "And I suppose I'll let you have this "sorry" for free."
Eventually the bell rings, signaling and end to their lunch break.
Charlie chucks his hardly touched half of the sandwich into the nearby bin before following his friend to class.
______________
True to Tori’s intuition, his mum lets him have it as soon as he sits down at the dinner table that evening.
It starts with the loud complaining about the earrings and the eyebrow, which he successfully manages to tune out as he pushes the food around his plate with this fork. She had made another one of his “favorites”. Charlie can’t remember ever eating it, and quite frankly thinks it tastes awful. And even if it didn't taste awful, he's not sure he would have been able to stomach it.
Then it had spiraled into his performance at school. Who knew that before the accident he had gotten top marks in absolutely everything? Certainly not Charlie who can't remember a damn thing about Truham prior to the second half of Year 8. And it's not as if he's failing, he truly is doing his best. But he is just not good in certain subjects and can't understand why he is being punished for not understanding something.
Naturally it had ended with yet another discussion of his "occult behaviors" and how unhealthy it is and how hanging out with that crowd has been a terrible influence on him and his studies.
Which is funny considering he has exactly three friends, none of which engage in any witchy behaviors with the exception of the long rants about various topics he ends up giving them on a rather regular basis. Bless his friends, they had never once complained about his interests and even tried to do little magic things with him when he was having a particularly bad day.
At that point a combination of the lack of sleep, a shitty day at school, and his overall repressed anger and frustration at his situation one out and he may have lost it. Just a little.
Charlie is not proud of some of the things he said (even if they were all somewhat true). He wants to think that his mum is trying his best and he's the one who is being too difficult and unfair. He's sure that must be it as they way she talks about pre-accident him paints a picture of a happy, healthy household and mother-son relationship. She must have truly loved him and been kind to him once. Back before he came back wrong, before he became a burden to everyone in his life. Charlie can't really blame her entirely for her behavior.
Compared to his old self, he must be considerably harder to love.
It had delved into a true screaming match that his dad and Tori had tried their best to intervene in. Olly had run out of the room crying at some point during the argument, and seeing his baby brother that upset and scared because of him had been his last straw. Olly didn't need to be frightened in his own home because Charlie and their mum are incapable of being civil for one fucking night.
"I hate you! I hate it here!"
It had slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself, accompanied by the sudden, loud cracking of the dining room table and startled yelps from his family as they jumped away from their seats. The table had broken cleanly in two, sending dishes and glasses crashing to the floor. The same ringing in his ears and electric tingles from earlier running up his arms as he stared in horror at the scene in front of him, eyes flickering between the broken table and the cold, furious expression on his mum's face.
His fist had connected with the table right before it broke. Surely he hadn't been strong enough to break an entire dining room table with a single smack? That just didn't make sense. But that wouldn't matter with his mum. She would blame him. She did blame him.
"Upstairs now."
Charlie's lip quivered as the gravity of the situation finally hit him. He had screamed at his mum, somehow destroyed furniture,
"Mum, I'm sor-"
"Out!"
And now here he sits, banished to his room for the foreseeable future. There's no way he won't be grounded for months after this stunt. He had attempted to open his laptop for research purposes, after all, what else is he supposed to do in here? But he found he was too anxious and instead scooped up his rabbit, burying his face in his fur. Mr. Scratch nuzzled against him. '...Bite?' his little mind whispered, and Charlie laughed despite himself. 'Maybe bite this time.'
The slamming of a door downstairs startles him. One of his parents had just stomped outside. His mum? No, definitely his dad if the sudden onslaught of barb-like thoughts is anything to go by.
He grits his teeth as he tries not to focus on the anger below him, petting Mr. Scratch a tad too roughly now if the sharp nip he receives on his hand is anything to go by. "Sorry, buddy," he mumbles, letting the rabbit hop off his lap and begin his nightly pre-bedtime zooms around his bedroom.
‘...disappointed’
‘He’s been so disrespectful lately.’
‘I’m sick, just so sick of dealing with him.’
‘I just want my little boy back-’
Barely holding back a frustrated scream, he attempts to throw up a mental wall between him and his family and just barely succeeds. Charlie is about to move to his bed and hope he can just pass out until tomorrow when another, not so telepathic voice, can he heard at his door.
“So that happened."
Charlie nearly falls out of his chair.
“Could you please stop popping up behind me like some kind of ghost, Tori!?” he exclaims, hastily scrubbing at his face.
Tori smirks as she walks into his room. “What’s the fun in that? Maybe you should learn to be more observant of your surroundings.” Tori plops down on the beanbag across from him, pretending not to notice his suspiciously puffy eyes.
You don't know how observant I am and how hard I try not to be, he wants to tell her.
"Or you could just stop using 'Older Sister Magic' on me like a decent person," is what he settles for.
"No. I don't think I will."
They sit in silence for a moment, Charlie anxiously drumming his fingers on his thigh and Tori attempting to lure Mr. Scratch towards her. When that fails, she turns her attention back to him. He sees her hesitation, the way she's trying to choose her words carefully.
"Charlie, what's going on?"
What isn't going on.
"What do you mean?" He tries to play it cool, to act like he has no idea what she's talking about. But like Tao, he can't hide his bad days from Tori.
"You and mum fight all of the time. But never like this. And," she takes a deep breath, "you've been worse lately. You're not sleeping, you're losing your temper with everyone."
"I'm fine, Tori. Really," he cuts her off, hoping that she'll give up and they can just forget about this conversation.
"You're not," she says. "Why won't you talk to me? I'm not our parents-"
"Because there's nothing to talk about."
"Charlie, please..."
What does she expect him to say? Charlie doesn't even know how to begin to accurately describe feeling like something is terribly wrong with him. That he is wrong. The way it slowly eats away at him and causes him to second guess every aspect of his life and every relationship that he has. The cold, sinking feeling that comes with every comment about how he has become an entirely different person, and the horror of knowing that he's stolen someone away from the people who loved him. The knowledge that he's just an inadequate impostor wearing the face of someone else's friend and child. Hearing thoughts. Whatever the fuck happened in Form today and then at dinner.
How can he explain any of that to Tori?
That he's not who everyone wants him to be and its terrifying to not know who you really are deep down. To not understand yourself at all. To feel like you don't belong anywhere and that everything about you is wrong.
A hysterical laugh bubbles up inside of him as he runs a shaking hand through his hair, breaths speeding up as panic begins to engulf him.
"She's right," he breathes, another hysterical giggle escaping him. "Tori, what if she's right?"
His sister has somehow managed to cross the room without him noticing because the next thing he knows she's kneeling in front of him, hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "Charlie, you're scaring me-"
"I would bring him back if I could. I swear, Tori," he whimpers, "I would give you all the old Charlie back but I don't know how."
Tori stares at him with wide eyes filled with fear and uncertainty, and Charlie can't help but feel overwhelming guilt. He's worrying her again.
"Charlie," she starts, and he can hear the way her voice shakes as she tries to remain calm, "what do you mean 'bring Charlie back'? You are Charlie."
He shakes his head, tears building in his eyes. "I'm not. I can't be."
"You are. You're my brother," Tori says vehemently, voice filled with so much certainty that a part of Charlie almost wants to believe her.
“Mum always says that I’m not her son, Tori. That I stopped being her Charlie after the accident. I’m just….I don't remember him. I don't remember any of it,” he takes a shuddering breath. “I can't be him. Maybe it would have been better if I just didn’t wake up after the accident. I wouldn’t have come back wrong . Sometimes it feels like it would be easier on everyone if I was gone.”
And it would have been easier on everyone. His parents and siblings could have properly grieved the boy they lost without the constant reminder that is this new version of him skulking around the house. They wouldn't be stuck with the mess that is this current version of Charlie Spring. The one that does nothing but disappoint his family and is so disgusting and awful that his own boyfriend doesn't want to be seen in public with him.
"I ruin everything I touch."
Unable to hold it back anymore, he breaks out into loud, ugly full body sobs. Tori lurches forward and pulls him into a tight hug.
“Well you’re not ruining my life,” she murmurs, voice breaking as she does so. "And I want you here. Even...even if you're not the same as you were. You're my brother." She continues to hold him as he sobs, and he clings to her like a small child until he finally stops shaking and can catch his breath.
"You don't have to be anyone other than yourself," Tori says softly as his tears begin to run out.
Charlie nods, still clinging to her tightly like he's afraid she'll disappear if he lets go.
“Mum and dad left and took Olly to our grandparent's for the rest of evening. I could make us pizza and we could watch a movie?” she offers.
Charlie sniffles miserably into her shoulder. “I’m not really hungry.”
______________
Tori sleeps in his room that night, like she used to when he first came home from the hospital after the accident and would wake up screaming about Tommy, about the "red" coming to get him. It's a tight squeeze in his bed with the two of them along Mr. Scratch (and eventually Olly who wandered by when he was supposed to be sleeping and decided he wanted to participate in the "sleep over"). But even with Mr. Scratch's quiet sleeping sounds above his head, Tori on one side of him hogging the blanket, and Olly's elbow digging uncomfortably into his sternum while he lays on the other side, he can feel himself finally starting to relax.
And for the first time in a very long time, he sleeps peacefully.