The Road is There, and So I Dare

Things remain tense in the Spring household over the course of the next two weeks. Charlie spends most of his time outside of school cooped up in his bedroom, speaking with no one except Tori and occasionally Olly. Despite the fact that his mum is still furious at him, he's quickly running out of excuses to avoid family dinners and activities. But for some reason he simply cannot bring himself to shove his feelings down and pretend like nothing happened. That's usually what he has to do in these situations; apologize, pretend that he's not upset about what happened, and wait until his mum decides she likes him well enough again to be even somewhat kind and motherly towards him. 

Which is why he's currently on the sofa at 4:30 in the morning, scrolling away on his laptop before his parents wake up and start talking to him again. A few hours of peace before the drama starts again.

Well....maybe not entirely peaceful. 

'Westview Anomaly' 

'Avengers Training Exercise Gone Wrong?'

'Wanda Maximoff Still Missing...'

'Westview Residents Claim Mind Control...'

Charlie clicks back and forth between the many tabs open on the screen. Some of the articles he has already read multiple times and some are new, written by conspiracy theorists and internet sleuths who are just as fascinated with Westview, New Jersey as he is. It's become an obsession of his, for reasons Charlie still can't completely understand. It consumes so much of his free time, collecting information on this town in a completely different country. He's never told anyone about this. Not Tori, not Tao, Issac, or Elle, certainly not his parents who are always looking for something wrong with him.

It had started innocently enough with Charlie watching a BBC report on the incident shortly after the accident. At that point it had already been declared an "Avengers Training Exercise", but something about that statement had rubbed him the wrong. Made his head ache in the same way it did whenever he tried desperately to remember something from his past. The name of the town had sounded...familiar. Felt familiar in a way that his family's house and town did not. 

The downtown area, the shops, the neighborhoods. 

The empty lot where a house should have been. 

Why is it empty, he had thought in a panic. A house should be there, he knows it should be there. 

The camera had panned to another house where a older woman stood on the porch, watching the filming take place before jumping into the join the conversation. 

Mrs. Hart? 

No, Davis. That's what the reporter said. But it should have been Hart....shouldn't it? Davis didn't sound correct. So why did he immediately think that her name was Mrs. Hart? 

A reporter had then brought another person on screen for an impromptu interview. John Collins. The reporter was asking him questions about his experience as the man shifted uncomfortably. Charlie recalled that the FBI had already visited the town and interviewed most of it's residents. Maybe the man had been instructed to keep certain things secret? But as Charlie watched the man give stilted answers the woman's questions, clutching his garden shears tightly, he noticed the well kept bushes and flowers that lined his fence. 

Flowers.

Yellow flowers. 

Herb always made sure his plants and lawn were perfect.

He always said hello to him when he played outside, and spent a lot of time talking to a woman over the fence. The woman was....she was...

Dark hair. Rabbit. Quiet.

'I like you.... You're quiet.' 

But that man is not "Herb". He is John Collins, and Charlie has never met him in person. So why did it feel like he knows him? Why did it trigger a sense of longing for a place he has never been. It had been overwhelming to the point where he began to panic, hyperventilating and crying while his family tried to calm him down. Charlie hadn't wanted his parents at the time. All he had wanted in the moment was to go home. Go home to Tommy, and the man who changed his appearance and a woman with reddish brown hair that sang him to sleep and 

But he was home. Is home. 

It didn't make sense to him at the time. It still doesn't make sense to him now. He's missing something, something important. There's a part of him that he can't reach. 

The sound of soft footsteps outside of the door startle him back to the present moment and he immediately slams his laptop shut, setting it to the side and hoping that it's not his mum or dad that have decided to be awake at this hour. He waits, body tense as the door slowly creaks open.

"Charlie?" a small, sleepy voices asks. 

He releases a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. It's just Olly. 

"Hey," he greets, holding his arms open in invitation which Olly takes eagerly, practically launching himself at Charlie. 

The Spring siblings had all learned early on that relying on their parents was a mixed bag. So much so that the three of them have in some ways given up, even the youngest. There is an unspoken understanding between the three of them that while they are all drowning and no one is coming to rescue them, they are at least drowning together.

Charlie has Tori, Tori has Charlie. But Olly....Olly is his. He would be lying if he said that this is not partially because his little brother's mischievous nature and loud, hyper personality reminds him of Tommy, the boy who had haunted his dreams since he woke up in the hospital. 

But he is the one who comforts Olly when he has nightmares, and taught him how to tie his shoes, and listens to the stories he concocts about every tractor he owns and why they're all so cool. He doesn't mind the meltdowns when Olly gets overwhelmed- God knows he's had his fair share of them the past few years. He had clung to Charlie almost immediately when he got home. Apparently he had always been Olly's favorite, ever since he was a baby. Charlie doesn't remember those years at all, but he'll take it. 

"Oof. You're up very early," Charlie laughs, wrapping his arms around Olly as the smaller boy crawls into his lap. "You should still be in bed for a few more hours. Don't you have that big spelling test today?" Oliver wrinkles his nose and cuddles closer to him. 

"I don't care, I can't sleep," he mumbles as Charlie throws the blanket over both of them, "and so are you. You were already down here!"

Charlie laughs again, hugging him tighter. "I suppose that's true." 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, reclining in the sofa and staring at the cartoons Charlie had put on the television at a low volume to keep his brother entertained and quiet. He had almost dozed off when Olly's quiet voice interrupts the silence. 

"Charlie?"

"Hm?"

"Why are you always so sad?" 

Charlie's breath catches at the unexpected question. 

Because how do you even begin to explain to a six year old that you're miserable? That ever since you woke up nothing has felt right and all you want to do is claw your way out of the skin you've become trapped in? That one day turns into the next and the next, and then the days turn into weeks and weeks into months, and suddenly you can't remember a time when things haven't been bad. If things had ever been good in the first place. 

Because you're a liar, an impostor. An awful, evil thing that has stolen his brother's face, masquerading as a boy he can never truly be. 

Charlie says none of these things. 

Instead he plasters a smile on his face, feigning confusion as he looks at his brother. 

"What do you mean, Olly? I'm not sad." He forces a decent amount of false cheer into his voice in an attempt to appease Olly. If there's one thing Charlie refuses to do, it's to involve Olly in anything that's going on in his head. He does that enough with Tori, and with his friends to a lesser extent. Olly has heard enough during the thunderous arguments he's had with their parents the past two and a half years. He shouldn't have to worry about Charlie being a mess and not being able to get his shit together. 

Olly looks up at him with big eyes, brow furrowed and a frown on his face. "But you are sad," he pouts. Charlie takes a deep breath, realizing he is quickly losing the battle with Olly's puppy dog eyes. 

"Maybe I am a little sad," he relents.

"But why?" 

Charlie swallows thickly, blinking rapidly as a familiar burning sensation starts in his eyes. "It''s complicated. And you shouldn't have to worry about my problems."

Olly stares up at him for a moment, nose scrunched up into confusion before his face suddenly lights up. "Can I fix it? I can fix it! I'm really good at fixing things! Like when my tractors break," he says sincerely. "I can fix your problem, Charlie." 

Charlie chuckles wetly, shaking his head. "I don't think you can fix this, bug."

Olly pouts, looking on the verge of tears himself. "But I can try," 

Charlie brushes his fingers through Olly's curls, "No, Olly. Sometimes... sometimes people are just sad." 

"But I don't want you to be sad anymore, Charlie," Olly whispers after a moment, laying his head back down on Charlie's shoulder and hugging him tightly around his middle. "Please?"

Charlie takes a deep, slow breath, blinking away the tears in his eyes. Hugging Olly a bit harder, he buries his face in his messy curls. If only not being sad was as easy as him waking up and deciding he's fine now. 

"I'll try not to be," he whispers after a moment, pulling back to look Olly in the eye. "I promise I'll try." 

"Good!" 

He shouldn't be making promises he knows he can't keep. 

_______________

Home may be shit, but school has somehow become less awful. 

It may have something to do with his tablemate in form, but Charlie would rather die than admit that out loud to anyone at the moment. Tao and Isaac in particular. He knows Isaac would laugh at him a bit, but not truly be bothered by it. But Tao doesn't really trust anyone on the rugby team. Or anyone remotely connected to them. It probably doesn't help that a majority of said individuals were the ones who bullied him intensely for an entire year. And truly, no matter how well meaning Tao would be and despite the knowledge that the other boy only wants to protect him, Charlie doesn't think he is capable of dealing with any more conflict at the moment. 

Nick has been....surprisingly pleasant. 

He always greets Charlie with a soft smile and a quiet "hi" in form, always makes an effort to have a conversation with him (even on the days he is, admittedly, grumpier than Nick deserves). He doesn't ignore Charlie in the hallway or outside, even when he's with his friends. There has even been a few mornings where Nick has quietly set a bottle of juice and some paracetamol next to him, poking him in the shoulder until he's annoyed enough to pick his head up from the desk. 

When Charlie asked him why, a befuddled look on his face, Nick had simply shrugged. "You always complain about headaches. And, well..." a light blush spread across his freckled cheeks, "I see you with juice every day at lunch. I figured it would help."  

Charlie didn't know whether he should be flattered that Nick pays that much attention to him, or slightly weirded out that someone has been watching him that closely. He choose the former because this is arguably the sweetest thing that someone who isn't one of his close friends has done. 

"Thanks," he muttered gratefully. "You're the best." 

He's never said anything cruel either, even though Charlie is certain Nick must know he is the one who was outed last year. Nick is different from his friends, at least around him. 

Or maybe Charlie's expectations for people are so slow that basic human decency is enough to make him melt. 

He'll unpack that at a later time. 

Nevertheless, Nick has become a bright spot in his day that has made stepping off the bus and into the halls of Truham slightly more bearable. He's so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn't notice said rugby player is near him until he runs smack into him, nearly making Nick drop everything he's holding. Nick looks up in surprise and mild annoyance before his eyes light up as he realizes who exactly had bumped into him. 

"Hi," he greets, any trace of annoyance wiped from his face in an instant. 

"H-Hi." 

"Are you going that way?" Nick asks, nodding his head to the right. 

"Yeah. Maths." 

Nick smiles in the way that always makes Charlie's heart skip a beat. "Same!" 

They walk together in comfortable silence, Charlie stealing glances at Nick whenever he thinks he can get away with it. The other boy seems intensely focused on the papers he's holding. He cranes his neck to get a better look at what Nick is working on and gives an amused snort. "Are you literally doing your homework while walking to your lesson?" he asks, eyebrow raised.

Nick gives him a sheepish look before continuing to scribble answers down on his worksheet. "I might be," he answers, barely holding back a small laugh of his own. 

"That's very chaotic."

Nick laughs loudly now, playfully bumping his shoulder against Charlie's. "That makes me sound way cooler than I actually am." 

They continue on, Nick still focused on his work and Charlie nearly running into a few people as he continues to catch himself staring at Nick. Another glance down at the homework reveals the issue; he's doing most of the problem wrong. Charlie clears his throat in an effort to get the other boy's attention. 

"Do you want me to do that for you?" he offers.

"Nah, that's okay." 

"Oh, come on. If you're struggling I can help you get the answers." He tries to snatch the pen out of Nick's hand as the other boy immediately jerked it away, a playful smile on his face. 

"I'm good!"

"I can tell you the answers." He makes another attempt to grab the homework sheet that is once again thwarted. 

"Then I won't learn anything."

Charlie rolls his eyes. "Just let me-" "No, get off-" 

Their game of tug of war with Nick's homework ends with his pen drawing a line across Charlie's hand. He gasps in mock offense. "How dare you!" he says, holding up his hand for Nick to see. The other boy rolls his eyes good-naturedly before reaching out and taking Charlie's hand in his own. He tries to ignore the sudden rush of heat to his face. Nick adds a few more lines to Charlie's hand

"Better now?" Nick smiles.

He looks down at the mark on his hand, now in the shape of a smiley face, and feels his own face become even hotter. "Uh....m-maybe." 

Nick laughs, but before he can reply Charlie notices a familiar face heading in their direction. Ben. He knows he shouldn't, but he's had such a shit time lately that all he wants is the tiniest acknowledgement from his boyfriend, one smile, one nice complement, even a wave. Before he can stop himself he turns to look at him. 

"Hi!" Charlie greets, a nervous smile on his face. Ben regards him coldly, a familiar flash of anger in his eyes. 

"Why are you talking to me? I don't even know you," he says dismissively, turning to look at Nick instead. "All right, mate?"

"Yeah, all right." 

In that moment, Charlie wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole. He should have known better than to talk to Ben in the hallway, especially in front of what he now assumes is one of his friends. Ben has made it very clear that they need to keep their relationship quiet, and Charlie knows he's no where near ready to come out. Not after the way Charlie had been treated the previous year after being outed. Ben is far too concerned about his reputation to risk that, and Charlie doesn't want to be the cause of someone else being miserable. 

But it still hurts, not even being able to say hello to your boyfriend. Always being on the receiving end of cold glares and snide comments when he messes up and forgets. 

...Can't believe I have to keep reminding him.

God, I'm so tired of dealing-

Charlie shakes his head. Stop it, stop it. Stay out of Ben's thoughts. He always tries so hard to stay out of his boyfriend's head but sometimes his thoughts and feelings are just so loud, particularly the ones about him.

Ben nods, giving a Nick a small wave before continuing on down the hall, not sparing Charlie a passing glance. He feels like he may cry but refuses to allow himself to breakdown in the middle of the hallway, and definitely not in front of Nick. He tries to play off the interaction. 

"So...you know Ben?" Charlie asks quietly, eyes trained on the floor. 

"Uh, yeah. He's in my year. We hang out sometimes. I didn't know you knew him, though." 

Charlie shrugs, hunching in on himself turning away to continue walking towards class. "Kinda. We don't talk much." Or at all, really.

A hand on his arm stops him in his tracks and he realizes Nick is still standing in the same spot. He's looking at Charlie with poorly hidden worry, brows furrowed as his eyes flit between him and Ben's retreating form. "Are you alright, Charlie?" he asks gently. 

"Oh, yeah. Yeah! I'm fine. Why?"

....was Ben one of the ones who bullied him last year?

Fuck. Stay out of people's heads. Why can't he just be normal? Why can't he just be good?

"You don't look fine." And Charlie hates the way Nick is looking at him with so much sadness and care. He hates how he's managing to drag him into his problems when he shouldn't even be involved or have to waste the energy worrying about him when he didn't deserve it. 

"I'm fine, Nick. Really. Can we just go to class?" And he hopes that it is enough to dissuade Nick from asking anymore questions. 

"Okay," the other boy says reluctantly, though the look he gives Charlie says he definitely isn't going to forget about this anytime soon. He gives Charlie's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Let's go."

Well, maybe not everything is better. 

But this is nice, at least. 

_______________

"I've done it again!" Tao exclaims, slamming a bottle of apple juice down onto the table. 

Charlie rolls his eyes, briefly glancing up from where he's carefully copying down a series of runes into his small notebook. "Elle hasn't been here for two weeks, Tao."

The other boy lets out a frustrated sigh. "I know, I know! I just keep forgetting."

"You're allowed to miss her, you know," Isaac says, sliding a bookmark into his novel to hold his place. "But you do have to admit it's better now that she's at an all-girls school. And Charlie keeps getting free juice out of this at least," he chuckles. 

Charlie hums happily, snatching the bottle from across the table. "Thanks, Tao!"

Tao grumbles, flopping down into his seat with an exaggerated huff. "It's just weird. Like, there used to be four of us and now there's three. Four is a proper group and three is just...a sad trio." 

His friends continue to trade good natured insults as they do before beginning a somewhat animated conversation about their next planned hangout. He's pretty sure that they try to include him at some points, but unfortunately he finds his thoughts wandering....elsewhere. Shouts and laughter draw his attention to the far end of the courtyard where a group boys run back and forth in a mock rugby match. But his eyes remained focused on Nick, following his movements as he runs, taking in the joy on his face and the smile that always makes his heart flutter. He almost forgets his friends are there until he feels someone poking him. 

"Isn't that Nick Nelson?"

"Huh?" 

"Nick Nelson. The guy you've been sat next to in form?"

"Uh, yeah. That's him." Charlie takes a sip of his juice, hoping to God that they hadn't noticed his intense staring. But Charlie has never been that lucky. 

"He looks like a golden retriever," Tao says flatly as Isaac laughs.

"He does not!" 

Charlie watches him run around a bit more, a giant, excited grin on his face as he cheerfully bumps into his friends. He also recalls the head tilt he has come to associate with Nick Nelson being interested in or curious about something, and he sighs deeply.

"Alright, so maybe he's a bit like a golden retriever." 

"A bit?" Isaac presses. 

"Shut up!"

"I still can't believe you've been sat next to rugby king Nick Nelson. What do you even talk about?"

"We talk all the time!" Charlie says defensively. 

Tao stares at him with wide, surprised eyes. "What, really? About what?"

"Charlie?"

"Hm?" He looks up from where he had been carefully drawing runes on the first page of his new journal. 

Nick is wringing his hands nervously, a slight flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. "You're good at math..." he starts. 

"Uh...I guess? I've never failed a test so far." 

"I uh...do you think you might be able to help with this problem?"

Charlie blinks in surprise, expression brightening. "Oh, yeah sure! Let me see."

Sighing gratefully, Nick slides the worksheet over to him so he can look at it. He tilts his head, skimming over Nick's work before chuckling. "You're just using the wrong equation here," he points. "Let me show you." 

Nick leans over to watch Charlie as he explains the proper way to do the problem. 

Their hands lightly brush against each other and it feels like a jolt of electricity shoots up his arm. His heart speeds up as he stumbleds over his words. Nick leans in even closer as Charlie continues to explain the math problem, and suddenly their shoulders are touching and they're close enough that he can feel Nick’s breath on his ear and smell the cologne he is wearing (thankfully he was not one of those boys with an unhealthy obsession with Axe Body Spray). Close enough to map out every freckle on his face. 

Charlie feels like he was about to vibrate out of his skin when suddenly-

Splash!

Nick’s fountain pen exploded in the middle of writing.

And Charlie is absolutely mortified. 

He could still feel a slight tingle in his hand that is definitely not from Nick touching him. Please, that couldn't have been him....could it? Not after the lights and the dining room table. He's been in denial about the whole thing, but once is weird, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a very unfortunate pattern he probably shouldn't be ignoring. Nick briefly stares down at himself in shock before a startled laugh erupts from him. 

"Well, I guess our math lesson is going to have to be cut short today. You don't happen to have a tissue, do you?"

And that's how he finds himself in the restroom, trying to help Nick de-blue himself in the sink. 

“It’s not coming off!” Nick laughs, still scrubbing at his hands and arms in vain. “It looks like I’m wearing gloves.” 

"You can make it a new school fashion," Charlie giggles.

"Or I'll just pretend it's a tattoo." 

He almost feels less bad about being the cause of his friend's sudden smurf life appearance. 

"Yeah well, just be careful."

"What, why?" he asks at the same time Isaac rolls his eyes and goes back to looking at his book. 

"Look at them, Charlie. And look at us! We are a group, no a trio, of outcasts, and he is the star player of the rugby team. And he's friends with a bunch of gross year 11s, many of which I will remind you, are some of your bullies from last year." 

"Yeah but like, it's Nick," he says, staring across the yard to where said boy is in a mock scuffle with his friends, unable to keep the smile off his face this time. "He's so different. He's..." 

Nice to me. 

Tao and Isaac share a look of half amusement half exasperation over his head. "I bet he's a whole different person when he's with his bro dude friends," Tao grumbles, pulling out his phone and starting to furiously type a message. 

"Are you texting Elle about this!?" he exclaims, aghast. 

"Someone has to be the voice of reason here if you won't listen to me or Isaac!"

Isaac raises a brow, peeking at them both over his book. "I haven't said a thing about your crush. Besides, I like to be optimistic about things."

Tao groans, picking up a wrapper and throwing it halfheartedly in Isaac's direction. "Stop encouraging him!" 

If Charlie spends the rest of the day thinking about Nick, that's nobody's business but his own. Not even Tao who sends him another text just as he's about to fall asleep.

10:32pm

Tao: hope you have sweet dreams about rugby lads tonight

Charlie: Shut up!!!!

__________________________

"You know I'm sorry about yesterday, right?"

It's the next day and Ben had once again asked to meet up. He only changed the meet up time and place two times and apologized for ghosting him first thing in the morning again. 

Charlie shakes his head, forcing a smile on his face. "I uh...yeah. It's fine. Don't worry about it, I understand." 

He doesn't. He doesn't understand. Is he truly that awful and disgusting that his own boyfriend can't risk being seen with him? Sometimes Charlie wonders if it's less about Ben being unwilling or not wanting to ever come out, and more about how he's embarrassed to be with Charlie. 

"Do you-"

Before Charlie can ask his question Ben is in his space, kissing him. It doesn't feel nice, like it did in the beginning. It's hard and demanding, and he can feel the unease swirling around in his gut. Charlie has to force himself to stay still, to not push away from Ben as his discomfort grows. The other boy finally pulls away and for a brief moment Charlie hopes this is one of those times when Ben decides to leave immediately without hardly a goodbye. But he has never been lucky. 

They're moving until his back hits the wall and Ben is kissing him more forcefully, one hand gripping the back of his neck and holding his head in place. Charlie feels trapped, but doesn't try to push him away. It's fine. Ben is his boyfriend. He should be enjoying the attention. 

He should. 

But as Ben's other hand slides down, running over his chest before moving lower, suddenly he finds himself thrust back into a different time when Ben had been this eager. 

Charlie has spent the night at Ben's house when his parents had been out for the night. It had been the single time Ben had agreed to spend time together outside of stolen moments in empty rooms of Truham. 

Charlie had told his mum and dad that he would be at Tao's- they asked less questions that way. 

It had started out okay, fun even. Ben had been unusually soft and kind that evening, far sweeter than Charlie was used to. 

'Ben I don't think-'

'It's fine. My parents aren't home.' 

'Maybe...maybe we should wait.'

A scoff. 'Oh come on, Charlie. It'll be fun.'

'.....okay.'

It's a blur after that. Being in Ben's room, clothes being shed, touches that make him want to vomit. 

'Stop.'

Ben doesn't hear him, he thinks. Because it doesn't stop. The hands don't stop. 

Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.

His ears are filled with the sound of glass shattering and sparks flying, and suddenly the hands are off of him. Ben is no longer touching him. Charlie hears a loud thump followed by a quiet groan. 

"What the fuck-"

He knows he should be concerned about his boyfriend lying on the floor a few feet in front of him, but all he can focus on is the shattered light fixtures, the cracked window, and the fact that his hands had glowed blue before Ben went flying. He stares down at himself in horror, the gravity of what he's done sinking in. And he panics. 

He doesn't wait for Ben to get back up. 

He runs. 

__________________________

Charlie is the first to arrive for his art lesson, showing up before break is even over and quietly slinking over to his usual seat in the back of the room. There's fewer people than the other art lessons, enough so that he can have a table to himself. Which he prefers if he's being honest. Especially today. Mr. Ajayi is already present, flipping through portfolios at the one of the other tables. He glances up when Charlie walks in, a small smile on his face that quickly fades into a look deep concern as he takes in Charlie's appearance. 

He can only imagine what he must look like.

Hair mussed, eyes red and puffy, clothes rumpled. 

"Charlie?" Mr. Ajayi asks anxiously, setting his grading down and giving him his full attention. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." His tone is short and clipped, and he hopes Mr. Ajayi will take the hint and let it go. But Charlie has never been that lucky. 

"Did something happen?" 

"No. No, I'm fine. Just a little tired," he says, forcing a smile on his face. He doesn't even have enough energy to care that his accent changed, slipping back into the strange American pronunciation everyone teases him for. He reaches into his bag with shaking hands and pulls out the sketches he has been working on and his pencils and makes a valiant effort to begin his work. 

He hears the chair being pulled out beside him and quickly glances over to see Mr. Ajayi now sat beside him. 

"Charlie," Mr. Ajayi sighs, reaching out and plucking the pencil from his shaking hand and taking the empty seat next to him. "What's going on?" 

He shakes his head, sniffling quietly as he continues to stare at unseeing at the sketchbook, still shaking hand scribbling nonsense on the blank paper. 

"You know you can tell me if something happened, right? I only want to help you," Mr. Ajayi says softly, a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

Mr. Ajayi had been the only teacher to care last year when things had gotten really bad. And even before that when he first came back in Year 8. Charlie had had to drop orchestra for the simple reason that he could no longer play the instrument he was assigned, and was moved into an art lesson late in the year. One of the only other subjects he had shown interest in and one of the easier ones to slip into. Mr. Ajayi had been kind and patient with him, never getting upset when he didn't remember something or got emotional. 

When he had been outed the following year after already being the brunt of everyone's jokes, he had allowed Charlie to hide in his classroom at lunch and during breaks. He had actually stepped in to sort out the people bullying him. No other teacher had. His parents certainly hadn't talked to the school to get him help. 

Mr. Ajayi had become the closest thing to an actual parental figure that Charlie has. And isn't that truly pathetic? Clinging onto a teacher who is only kind to him because he is obligated to look after him. Not because he truly wants to deal with a problem like Charlie. 

He buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking as he tries to hold back the sobs that want to escape him. It's getting harder and harder to breathe and everything is too much. 

He's just so confused. 

But all Charlie can think about is how angry Ben would be if he found out he had talked to anyone about them. Let alone a teacher. Ben has always been short tempered. He apologizes for it after, of course. He always does. And Charlie forgives him. Because he always does. Because Ben isn't really that bad. He's mean sometimes, but then again Charlie has his bad days as well. He's lashed out at people and been cruel at times. But Charlie has never, he never...

But Ben is his boyfriend. He shouldn't be upset. Why is he upset? 

And Charlie had hurt him. He had thrown him across the room practically. He could still feel whatever power he had tapped into buzzing beneath his skin, desperately seeking an outlet. What would happen if people found out about that? Or maybe he hadn't done it at all and it was some strange hallucination he had while he physically lashed out at Ben. Which doesn't make him feel better in the least. 

The lights above him begin to flicker. 

No. No. No. Not now. Not now. Not now. He can't. He's going to hurt someone else. He's going to-

"Charlie." Mr. Ajayi's voice is firmer now, but he can still detect a hint of worry and panic rolling off him in waves. 

"I would like to go home, please," he mumbles miserably into his hands, attempting to reign in the feeling threatening to burst out of him at any second. He doesn't. He hates it there. But where else does he have to go? He can't stay here. He can't. 

"Please," he says again, voice small. 

Mr. Ajayi sucks in a breath. "Alright, alright. Let's get you to the nurse, hm? We can tell her you have a migraine and need to go home." 

Charlie hears him say something to the few students who had started to wander in, but can't focus enough through the sea of voices in his head to make out his exact words. He's distantly aware of his bag being packed up for him and Mr. Ajayi carefully pulling him to his feet. 

He blinks and suddenly he's in the nurse's office. Mr. Ajayi is sat in the chair next to him and Charlie briefly wonders why the man had bothered to stay instead of going back to supervise the classroom. Until he notices the death grip he has the man's forearm. 

His dad arrives at some point, half miffed about having to leave work early, and half concerned for Charlie. He hears raised voices- one of them Mr. Ajayi who almost never yells. But the loud conversation is cut short as Charlie is pulled to his feet and ushered towards the door, fingers slipping from the art teacher's jumper sleeve. 

He blinks again and he's in the car, head resting against the cold window as his dad drives towards their house. He's saying something that Charlie is having trouble keeping up with. Eventually he hears the man sigh and go quiet. 

When they finally arrive home, Charlie bolts from the car and into the house, ignoring his dad calling out behind him. He makes it to his room, slamming the door behind him and sinking to the floor, arms wrapped around his knees. 

He doesn't understand what's happening to him.

He wishes everything would stop. 

__________________________

Charlie doesn't go back to school on Wednesday. 

His parents surprisingly don't push him. He half expected his mum to burst into the room, yelling about how he needs to stop being lazy and get out of bed, but she never does. He hears the last traces of her thoughts go quiet as she heads out of the door, off to work early again. Tori doesn't press him either; but she does come into his room to leave a glass of water next to his bed and put down a plate of fresh vegetables for Mr. Scratch before heading to the bus. 

He's pretty sure that Olly comes in too, poking him in the forehead and whispering "bye!" with that familiar giggle of his before scurrying away to leave for school. But Charlie is unable to muster much of a response besides a quiet hum of acknowledgement. 

His dad comes home from work in the late afternoon and pokes his head in. "Charlie? Do you want some dinner?"

"No," he mumbles into his pillow. 

He hears him sigh and walk away. 

Tori comes in to leave him a plate of toast. When she returns later it is left uneaten on the bedside table. She lingers quietly by his side for a moment before picking up the plate and quietly retreating. 

He doesn't go back to school on Thursday either, the thought of walking through the halls filling him with a cold sense of dread that nearly sends him spiraling. He can't handle the idea of sitting in classrooms under the constant bombardment of thoughts which have become increasingly harder to ignore since his....outbursts. As if something inside of him had been unlocked with no way to safely close the door again. Everything had become too much and he is terrified that the slightest inconvenience will make him hurt someone. 

At some point he drags himself out of bed to stand in front of the mirror, gazing at the reflection of the body that still doesn't feel like his after all this time. His hands instinctually grip his upper arms as the tight, uncomfortable feeling starts to overwhelm him, nails digging painfully into his skin in an attempt to ground himself. He can do this. He has to know. 

With a shuddering breath he tries to recall the feeling that has preceded every incident so far. 

The electric tingles and the feeling of something building and struggling, trying to find any outlet it can. The ringing sound in his ears when the lights shattered in form, and when Nick's pen exploded. He closes his eyes, focusing on the memory of the feeling until he can feel it building and building. And when he opens them...

Blue.

Crackling, blue energy engulfing his hands the way it had when Ben was pushed across the room. It twists and writhes, encircling all the nearby objects around him. Across the room Mr. Scratch nervously regards him before darting under the bed, away from the strange blue engulfing his boy. The lamp next to his bed begins to flicker and his shelves shake just enough to disturb their contents. Charlie is nauseous with the realization that it really has been him all along. That none of incidents that have been occurring these past few weeks are a strange coincidences or freak accidents. 

He's causing them. 

He's making it happen.

He's putting everyone in danger. 

Charlie stares down at his hands, at the eerie blue glow surrounding them. He looks back up at his reflection and flinches when he sees the same blue light reflected in his eyes. What is he? What's wrong with him? Has he always been able to do this? Charlie doesn't remember a time when he couldn't hear people's thoughts, that had been a constant since he woke up. But breaking things, moving things, this is new. He can't understand why this is all happening now, what could have possibly triggered something like this. 

No one in his family is capable of doing anything like this. At least, his parents and his siblings have never given any indication that they can. 

So where...

Unbidden, images he doesn't understand pop into his mind. 

Red and blue swirling around each other, combining to form a light purple color as his smaller hand was grasped in a larger one. A quiet, comforting hum in the back of his mind that let him know that they were there. He could always feel them. Who are they? 

'Family is forever. We'll always find each other.' 

So he tries. 

He tries to recall the feeling of Tommy, of the strange man and woman that have haunted him. The way their presence wraps around him every time he dreams of them. He thinks, for a moment, that he can sense of twinge of something. Something right there but just out of his reach. But in an instant the feeling is gone and it fades back into that cold, emptiness he's come to know so well. They're not there. 

"I can't feel you." 

His hands shake as the blue energy recedes. 

"I can't feel you anymore." 

An overwhelming sense of grief comes over him as he stumbles back towards his bed, collapsing. 

His father comes in later, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing a hand on his shoulder as he tries to convince Charlie to come downstairs for dinner. When that doesn't work, he shuffles out of the room, murmuring something to Oliver who is whining outside of his door. 

A few moments later the boy comes bursting back into the room, nearly spilling an entire bowl of something on his carpet. 

"CHARLIE! I got you soup!" 

He forces himself up and with Oliver tucked snugly into his side and Mr. Scratch munching on his own dinner, he slowly puts one spoonful of soup after another into his mouth until the bowl is empty, trying not to vomit. 

By Friday his mum had finally had enough of his behavior. She stands in the doorway and screams at him about how she's tired of his laziness, how he needs to snap out of whatever this is. He can't even muster the energy to acknowledge her, simply turns over and pulls the covers over his head. When that doesn't work she slams the door and stomps down the stairs, still ranting and raving about how much of a disappointment he's being. 

Tori pokes her head in a few minutes later.

"Charles?"

Charlie doesn't react.

"Charles, you've been in here for days. What's wrong?"

She hovers in his doorway for a moment longer until he feels her give up, slowly making her way down the stairs to leave for school. If he had the energy he might have felt bad about it. 

He spends the rest of the day dozing on and off. Mercifully, he doesn't dream. 

Halfway through the fourth day of his self imposed confinement, he manages to force himself out of bed when the sun comes up. If for no other reason than the fact that he can't remember when he showered or brushed his teeth last and is the beginning stages of not being able to stand himself. He lingers at his bedroom door for a moment, closing his eyes and trying to determine where everyone is. He can't hear his mum or dad, or Olly for that matter. Tori is in her room. 

Holding a bundle of fresh clothes tight to his chest his tiptoes to the bathroom. Locking the door behind him he breathes out a sigh of relief that no one had been there to stop him. 

Charlie makes quick work of the shower, pointedly not looking at his reflection as he undressed and ignoring the pale, raised lines that decorate his arms and his thighs. He nearly passes out standing up the hot water and realizes he probably should have eaten more than soup and toast this week. 

Finally clean and feeling slightly more human, he makes his way back to his bedroom.

He stands in the middle of his room, debating what he should do next. Part of him wants to crawl back into the bed he just left, but he supposes he might as well try to be an actual person for the first time in four days. He makes it to his bedside table before he gives up on this plan, plucking his phone from it's surface and sliding down to the floor to lay with Mr. Scratch instead. 

Well, he can check his phone at least. That shouldn't be too bad. 

Swallowing back his dead he turns his phone on for the first time in days, and is immediately bombarded with all the texts and calls he has missed since Tuesday. He can't bring himself to read all of them, particularly the long paragraphs, but he lightly skims through them. 

Tuesday

Nerds

Tao: why aren't you in class?

Tao: are you skipping?

Isaac: pretty sure I saw Mr. Ajayi walking him past my last class

Tao: are you in trouble?

Tao: Charlie

Tao: ????

Isaac: Did you go home? You looked sick this morning

Elle: Charlie please answer when you get the chance

4:32pm

Isaac: Feeling okay Charlie?

Isaac: Tao is pretty worried about you. 

5:48pm

Elle: Tao would like me to tell you he is very upset you aren't returning his messages

Elle: please respond to him so he stops moping in my texts

Nerds: 7:30pm

Tao: we will have words when i see you tomorrow, charles

Isaac: Leave him alone Tao! Maybe he really is sick

Elle: Are you okay, Charlie?

Missed Call: Elle
Missed Call: Tao

Wednesday

Nerds 9:45am

Tao: Charlie where are you?

Elle: Can you at least give us a sign of life? 

Isaac: we're here for you <3

Missed Call: Isaac
3 Missed Calls: Elle
Missed Call: Tao

Thursday

8:30am

Tao: Charlie you're starting to scare me. You haven't ignored us like this since last year

Tao: are you being bullied again?

12:30pm

Isaac: You know you can talk to us if something is going on, right?

Isaac: we're really worried about you

Friday

7 missed calls 

20 unread messages

Today

Tao: This is your final notice that you have surpassed your allotted isolation time and extreme action may be taken

Tao: please charlie. we're all worried about you

Tao: Charlie if you don't answer rn I'm coming to your house 

Tao: Charles Francis Spring!! that's right, i'm using your full name to express how upset I am

Tao: mum is also threatening to call your mum to do a wellness check on my behalf

Three dots appear as Charlie finishes skimming over the rest of the messages. Hesitantly, he types a quick reply. 

Charlie: bad headache week. i'm okay. sorry for worrying you all

The three dots return almost immediately after he hits send and Charlie watches Tao type for a long time before they disappear, no message sent. This happens four more times before a text finally comes through. 

Tao: I'm still coming over. I've decided

Charlie: you really don't have to

Tao: in my mum's car as we speak

Charlie sets his phone down, reaching out and pulling Mr. Scratch to his chest. The bunny gives a few kicks of protest but settles quickly, snuggling into Charlie. 

A soft knock on his door sometime later brings him back to awareness and he manages to summon the energy to turn over on his side. This is the part where Charlie should get up and open it, or at least give the person on the other side permission to enter. But his limbs are heavy, and every sentence he tries to form in his mind can't seem to make it to his mouth. 

There's another timid knock before the door creaks open and someone pokes their head inside. Charlie has to resist the urge to curl up and hide away from their gaze. He doesn't want anyone to see him like this. He wants.... What does he want? 

'Did you have another bad dream, Billy?'

'See! I made a blanket fort. The bad dreams can't find us in here.'

'Night, Billy.'

'Night, Tommy-' 

The bedroom door opens wider and they step inside. For a brief, hysterical moment, Charlie sees a young boy with long-ish, messy brown hair and an impish smile on his face. He's vibrating with excitement, blinking in and out of focus as he shifts from foot to foot, and Charlie feels his heart leap in his chest because he's here, he's here. But then he blinks and the boy is gone and Tao is in his place. Ringing his hands nervously, Tao takes a hesitant step forward. "Hey, Charlie," he says quietly, worry shining in his features as he takes in the scene before him. 

Charlie desperately wants to say something back but he just can't seem to make his vocal cords cooperate. He remains listless on the floor, already feeling the confusing fog threatening to overtake him again as he hugs Mr. Scratch tightly to his chest. 

"Is it....do you want me to come in?" Tao asks.

He does and he doesn't. He wonders what Tao would say if he told him to leave right now? If the other boy would even listen to him. Judging by the texts he had received earlier and the nervous yet determined expression on his face, Charlie doesn't think Tao will give up that easily. 

Swallowing harshly he nods, still not trusting himself to attempt speaking. Tao visibly relaxes at his answer and steps into the room, dropping his bag near the door before hastily making his way to where Charlie lies. The taller boy's eyes scan over him quickly, no doubt looking for signs of injury or anything that would signal something be wrong. Satisfied that nothing seems to be physically wrong with him, he sinks to the floor next to Charlie, sparing a moment to timidly pat Mr. Scratch before flopping onto his back with a huff. 

Charlie wonders why Tao even bothers with him. Why the other boy makes such an effort to be around him when he's like this. It's not fair to Tao to have to put up with him.

It's not fair to the original Charlie Spring that he has taken such a good friend from him.

"Are you going to actually tell me what's wrong this time?" Tao asks after a moment, still gazing up at the ceiling. "Or are we just going to pretend like this is fine?" It's straight and to the point, tone leaving no room for arguments. He phrases it like Charlie has a choice and, he supposes he does. He doesn't have to tell Tao or anyone anything if he truly doesn't wish to. But he knows that Tao's growing concern is as great as his growing frustration. As much as he's terrified of being known, of being discovered as the fraud he is and being cast aside, he's beginning to worry that everyone is growing tired of him regardless. Who wouldn't be when he's likes this? 

And Charlie could tell him, he supposes. 

About the accident, the dreams, hearing people's thoughts. He could tell him about throwing Ben across the room without touching him- but that would involve another, longer conversation he is not ready for. Charlie could even tell him about the longing for a life that he's half convinced is just a figment of his traumatized imagination, showing up in bits and pieces just to torment him with something he can never have. 

He settles on the easiest thing to admit to. 

"I miss him," he croaks, voice hoarse with disuse. 

Tao turns on his side to face him. "Who?"

"Tommy." It feels strange to say his name out loud after keeping this part of him to himself for so long. His parents had quickly put a stop to any Tommy conversations with them, and he could see the way Tori had started to become more and more concerned with his "imaginary friend" with time. 

"Whose Tommy? You've never mentioned him before."          

"He's..." Charlie swallows, a familiar ache in his chest. "He was my friend," is where he lands, not sure how to properly communicate the feeling of having half of your soul missing while not even being certain that the piece you are searching for is real.  

"Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

"He's gone," Charlie softly, burying his face in Mr. Scratch's fur. 

"Oh..."

Charlie can see Tao's mind processing this new information, and he hopes that the other boy doesn't ask any follow-up questions. They lay there, the awkward silence between them until Tao finally speaks. "I'm sorry," is all he says, and Charlie knows he means it. 

"It's okay." 

He isn't sure how long they lay there, petting Mr. Scratch while Tao rambles about everything he's missed at school, about Elle's updates from Higgs, the new movie he watched the other day. Charlie only manages to catch every other word, floating in and out the present moment, but he appreciates the talking nonetheless. The steady stream of words is soothing, filling the silence that had started to become suffocating. Tao, for his part, seems to be aware that he is struggling to stay present and Charlie finds himself on the receiving end of a rather hard jab to the side when his mind floats too far away. 

He's almost drifted off to sleep again when he is suddenly and violently shaken back to full consciousness. 

"Come on. If you're going to continue to insist on moping about your room, you should at least do it from bed. The floor probably isn't good for your back," Tao grunts, yanking him into a sitting position. 

Charlie lets himself be manhandled into his bed without much of a fuss. 

An air mattress is set up next to his bed at some point. Did he space about again? A quick glance outside of his window reveals a darkened sky, definitely past sunset. Had that much time passed since Tao arrived? 

Tao is spending the night, apparently. Something about his parents being and Olly being out for the night, and Tori refusing to sleep at some girl's house unless he stays. Charlie raised a disbelieving brow at Tao's words. Tori? Going to a sleepover? Had he died and found himself in yet another strange place and life? But he doesn't have it in him to question this too hard. 

"Go to sleep, Charlie," Tao says, dropping the rabbit on the bed next to him.

And he does. 

_______________

Charlie goes to sleep and wishes he hadn't. 

He wakes up screaming- it's nothing new. It's been happening for years now. 

He hears Tao startle below him, sitting up and fumbling for the light on the bedside table. "Charlie!? What- What's going on? What's wrong?" Tao asks in a panic, cursing as he knocks things over in his attempt to climb off the air mattress. 

Charlie bites down on the blanket in a desperate attempt to muffle his ragged breathing and the whimpers that threaten to spill out. He shakes his head before realizing that Tao probably can't tell from this angle. 

"I'm fine. Go back to sleep," Charlie chokes out. Or rather he attempts to, but all the comes out of his mouth is loud sob as he curls in on himself further, fingers gripping and tugging at his hair. 

"H-Hey," Tao whispers nervously as Charlie curls further into himself, shaking with the force of his sobs. "Charlie?" Tao sits down on the bed next to him and suddenly he feels hands grabbing his own, trying to untangle his fingers. "You're going to hurt yourself." 

Tao's words are lost on him as he continues to cry and shake, unable to stop. 

"Charlie, it's okay. Charlie!" 

He hears a soft curse behind him and feels the blankets being moved as Tao slips in to his cocoon behind him. He finds himself being yanked towards his friend as the other boy anxiously tries to reassure him. 

Back pressed against his friend's chest, arms holding him tightly, Charlie starts to feel the panic slowly ebbing away. It takes him another twenty minutes before he releases a shuddering breath, cries dying down into quiet sniffles. 

"Now are you going to tell me what that was about or not?" Tao asks, now that's finally calm enough to speak. For a moment, Charlie considers trying to brush off the whole incident as some freak night terror that he doesn't need to be worried about. But he highly doubts Tao is going to let this go, especially after disappearing for a week and dissociating in front of him for hours on his bedroom floor. 

So he braces himself to admit what's bothering him. 

Because it's Tao. Tao is safe, like Tori. He can tell him and he won't be upset or told he's being ridiculous about things. 

"You were gone, Tao," he says miserably. "You, Elle, Isaac, Tori, Olly. Everyone was just gone like last time and I was alone and it was dark and I couldn't find you like I can't find Tommy." 

Last time? The other boy's mind whispers, and Charlie winces. 

He feels Tao shake his head, pushing the panicked thoughts far enough away that Charlie can't hear them anymore. "I'm right here."

"But-"

"It was just a nightmare. Everyone is here, exactly where you left them. Well, as far as I know anyway. We could always call and wake them up to be sure, but they might not appreciate the wake-up call." 

"I didn't feel like a nightmare. 

"It was," he insists, pulling the blanket back over both of them. "Just some weird nightmare that you don't need to worry about. It wasn't real, and no one has disappeared." 

Charlie worries his bottom lips, hands gripping Tao's forearms tightly. "Okay," he whispers, still not entirely convinced. Tao sighs, resting his forehead against Charlie's shoulder as he continues to hold him. 

"It's just a dream," he tells Charlie again. "Do you want me to stay?"

For a moment Charlie feels like a baby. He shouldn't need his best friend to cuddle with him and hold him like he may fall apart if he lets go. But he also can't bear the thought of being separated from him in any capacity at the moment. 

"Please." 

They lay there in silence for an indeterminable amount of time, Charlie focusing on Tao's even breathing and trying to match it with his own, still clinging desperately to the other boy in an effort to keep him there. Eventually Charlie rolls over, burying his face in the crook of Tao's neck. "Tao?"

"Hm?" the other boy responds, sounding as if he's already half way back to sleep. 

"You really won't disappear if I fall asleep....right?" 

Tao sighs dramatically, feigning annoyance. "We've already been over this."

"I know, I know. I just...."

Another more horrifying thought nearly makes him start panicking again. The creeping red traveling up his arms, eating away at him as he screams and tries to run away. Waking up and not knowing where he is, who he is. Would he remember any of this life? Or would his friends and family just become more ghosts to haunt the edges of his dreams along with the ones he is already running from? 

"What if I disappear again?" he asks quietly. "I don't want to disappear again." 

Tao is silent for a moment. 

"Then I'd find you. You're not going to be rid of me that easily. Or Elle and Isaac for that matter. We'd hunt you down, and then give you a very harsh talking to for scaring us like that." 

"What if you can't?"

"I'd find you," Tao repeats with certainty. "I'd find you, Charlie." 

"What if you don't know it's me?"

Tao shakes his head, scoffing. "Don't be ridiculous, I'd know it was you."

"How?"

"Because you're my best friend," Tao says simply. 

Tao tucks his head under his chin, holding him just a bit tighter. "I'm not going anywhere, Charlie. And neither are you. I promise," he says softly. "And I'm going to be very cross with you if you keep trying to suggest otherwise when I have made my position on the matter very clear. Now go to sleep, it's three in the morning." 

Charlie lets out an amused huff, eyes already feeling heavy. "Okay." 

"G'night, Charlie." 

"Goodnight, Tao."

Goodnight, Tommy....

_______________

When he finally wakes Tao is already up, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. He's still crushed into his friend's side, Tao's arm loosely around his shoulders. 

"Tao?" he asks, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes and failing miserably. 

"Still here," the other boy says without looking at him, "as promised." 

Charlie releases a breath he hadn't realized he's been holding, the tension immediately draining out his limbs. Tao is still here. Tao hasn't been claimed by the red storm that has haunted him since he first woke up. Charlie is still here, not floating in the empty black space. 

"Feeling better?"

Charlie hums in acknowledgement as he pulls the blanket tighter around him, still not quite ready to pry himself away from his friend. 

"Good." 

Tao finishes typing something on his phone before shaking Charlie a bit. "Up."

Charlie groans. "Why?"

"Because you've been rotting here long enough. And Isaac and Elle are coming over here for breakfast before we head out." 

Charlie blinks. "Out? Since when are we hanging out?" 

"Since I texted them last night and arranged it. They want to see you. Besides, it's been forever since the four of us have been able to hang out together." Only a few weeks, technically. They all had a movie night shortly before the term began. But Charlie doesn't bother to correct him knowing how much Tao has been missing Elle since she transferred to Higgs. The weeks can feel like painful  centuries when you're separated from someone you care about. 

A part of him also knows that Tao only arranged this because he doesn't want to leave Charlie on his own. A gentle probe into his thoughts only confirms his suspicions. 

...tell Elle and Isaac what's going on. I don't know what to do. 

Something's wrong with him-

I just want to help......his parents, maybe? 

Charlie squeezes his eyes shut, willing a wall between his mind and Tao's. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, reluctantly pushing himself into a sitting position. 

Tao looks at him in utter confusion. "For what?"

Everything.