For the Love of Death, Put the Lute Away

by fallenStar_cygnus

Summary:

yeah, you read that right, IT'S AN EL DORADO CROSSOVER

Charles and Edwin are... lost, for lack of a better word. Stranded and separated in a stretch of forest that seems intent on keeping them apart, they each run into.. an equally as lost ghost?

Maybe the solution to this infuriating labyrinth lies in a conversation. An understanding.

Notes:

did anybody ask for this? no
did anybody want this? also no!!!

but i recently rewatched the movie for the.. i wanna say fourth time? and couldn't stop thinking about this :3

Chapter 1: Silence

“I told you we shouldn’t have taken this case, Charles!”

“I thought it would be easy!”

It wasn’t easy.

At all.

You’d think after near thirty years of working together they’d realize that, by now, nothing was. Easy, that is.

Edwin barely feels his knuckles pressing together as he turns his gaze skyward. Gratingly, it seems even his thoughts are becoming complicated in this fu- ehem. This forest. 

“We’ve done loads of retrieval jobs before, haven’t we?” Charles tries to appeal, taking the Edwardian’s hands in his and thumbing at the knuckles, “I thought it would be just the same.”

“Yes, Charles, you thought and that is precisely the issue.”

Logically, logically, Edwin knows that he’s being waspish at the wrong person. That it isn’t Charles’ fault that they’re- stranded in this bizarre labyrinth of a biome. He yanks his hands away regardless. 

“You better hope there are no ghost-eating fungi in this forest.” he says, crisply walking past his partner, “I am not dealing with the repercussions of that again. Especially now.”

Before.. Esther, before Crystal, there had been... an incident. The Case of the Ghastly Greenhouse. Duly, he tries not to think about it much- about the screams.

The Edwardian had needed to take up the role of protector and that was that.

“Edwin..” and oh, oh that tone makes a timid thing writhe deep in his chest.

“What?”

“That’s... alright, that's fair.” no, no no.

Something sharp twists in Edwin’s sternum, like it could stab into his lungs at any moment and suffocate him. And that was a ridiculous notion, because ghosts didn't need to breathe so why would suffocation even matter? Why couldn't he stop snapping?

The forest adjusts again, and his forehead meets the back of a- 2/3 gloved hand? Truly, he didn't know the ratio of Charles' gloves. Just that they had a half moon cut out on the backs.

And that they were currently preventing him from walking headfirst into a tree.

"...thank you, Charles."

"Figured I'd return the favor, yeah?"

Edwin pulls away sharply, "This is not the same thing."

How could he even-

"No- right, I know," Charles puts his hands up, but doesn't reach out- presumably due to the Edwardian's earlier reaction, "I just- are you feeling alright, mate?"

...ah.

It had been a joke. A poor one, admittedly, but a joke nonetheless to.. well, probably to alleviate whatever foul mood had been causing Edwin to be so unnecessarily harsh.

A gloved fist meets his shoulder, oh so gently.

"Everything.. brills? You've been-"

It was a habit of Charles to ramble more, he had learned, whenever there was tension. A fact that seemed to hold true now, as the two resumed walking.

He keeps talking, walking just a step ahead to do- something. Protect maybe, or keep an eye on Edwin, or-

"Charles, we are stuck in a forest that changes that every few minutes on a job that you insisted upon!" he finally snaps, well and truly snaps, "Need I remind you exactly what happened the last time we were stuck somewhere?"

"Well.. no-"

"Of course not. We were only in Port Townsend because of you-"

"Alright!"

His partner cuts in before Edwin can really get going, and perhaps that's for the best. Charles looks distinctly hurt.

That shard in his sternum starts to splinter.

"Alright," he says again, and his hand drags down his forehead to pinch at the bridge of his nose- in a way he only does when warding off tears.

Inhale.

No exhale.

Something clenches tight in Edwin's chest.

"You're pissed," yes, but- "You have every right to be, honestly. I've really mucked this one up, haven't I? So.."

The smile on his face is paper thin, almost painful to look at, and he doesn't reach out to hold Edwin's shoulders like normal. It wobbles on the corners.

"Charles-"

"Let's just- let's walk in silence for a little bit, yeah? Cool off."

How had he never noticed how fake it all was?

In the end, all the Edwardian can do is nod his assent- too ashamed of his behavior to vocalize a response.

And Charles did say 'walk in silence' after all.

It's a tense, uncomfortable thing- so very unlike their usual dynamic that it sets something flighty on edge inside him. His partner doesn't look at him, nor does he seem to really take in his surroundings much at all.

An ache blooms under Edwin's ribs- urging him to take Charles' hand and apologize.

He just can't quite commit to the idea yet.

They continue this way for what feels like hours, but the sun doesn't move all that much so it can't really have been longer than a handful of minutes. Or maybe this forest wasn't moving forward in time at all?

A cloud passes overhead.

Or not.

And then, the forest shifts again.

Things seem to move in slow motion, after that. A root crawls out of the ground- a near perfect arch. Charles hits the ground with a bitten off ‘oof’ noise. [silence]

Edwin reaches down to help him up.

Charles disappears before their fingers even brush.

. . .

Silence.

Chapter 2: Quiet

Summary:

Charles isn't alone for very long, to his immense relief and unbelievable worry

Notes:

split it into two for a better story effect, considering the story will switch POVs a LOT

"Edwin?"

It's agonizingly quiet- all of the sudden.

There are no birds chirping, no rustling leaves, no insects. Charles can't even hear a breeze. It's quiet.

"Edwin, this isn't funny, mate." seriously, yes, he might've gotten them trapped somewhere again, but this-

His best mate wouldn't- this wasn't-

right?

Charles tries to push himself up to his feet, only to immediately hit the hard forest ground again as something tugs on his ankle.

"What..?"

The younger [alone, alone] ghost turns on his back and sits up, taking a good feel of the grass under his palms as he goes to get a better look at his ankle.

A yellowish brown root is curled all affectionate-like around his sock, decrepit and dry looking. And that's weird, because while he can't really feel it, everything around him is green enough to make any witch jealous.

It moves like bound hay under his fingers.

Well, that's concerning.

And a problem to deal with later, he thinks. After he finds Edwin. And apologizes for mucking everything up again. Priorities.

Edwin first, creepy undead forest after.

As if sensing these traitorous thoughts, or his shifting movements, the root suddenly tightens and yanks. Charles yelps. Justifiably! Considering the bloody thing was trying to drag him underground by his foot!

He jerks the limb into the air- mostly on instinct- and falls back to his elbows as it phases easily through the snare.

His chest heaves with unneeded breath.

. . .

Alright.

That was fine. New.

He just-

"Forgot you were a ghost?"

Charles screams.

There's a man crouching just to the right of his back, sword propped upon his shoulder. He's got a kinda roguish- classy charm to him, in his thin face and long black hair. But-

"Who are you!?" he nearly screeches, lurching backwards.

Bloody hell, he hadn't even heard the bloke stroll up!

And- listen, alright, Charles is the brawn. The first and last line of defense against anything that could possibly hurt the people he cared about.

He was strong.

He was, also, just a teenage boy. And he was alone for the first time in over 30 years of death. So when his back hits the rough trunk of a tree, he freezes. In a way he hasn't since iron kept him alive instead of burned him.

And Edwin is still gone.

The man watches, his face blatantly unimpressed.

"Are you done screaming?" he asks, raising an immaculate eyebrow. Jenny would be jealous.

He stands up then too, a sigh rattling out his thin chest and ...huh. He was rather fit, actually. Surprisingly nimble too, for his old clothing.

Still packing a sword though.

Charles thinks about his question. Nods:

"Think so, yeah."

"That's great! Great," wow, okay, Crystal could take sarcasm lessons from this guy, "Can you stand up?"

And just like that, the defiant streak long muffled by this fucking forest sputters back to life. Charles knocks away the thin hand that reaches for him and stands up on his own.

"Who are you?" he asks again, thankfully without that shrill edge of panic.

The stranger looks supremely unbothered though, so whatever. Watery blue eyes look Charles over, paranoid and probing and assessing, while his sword bounces subtly on his shoulder- hand on his hip.

clink, clink, clink.
clink.

"Alright," is what he eventually settles on, dragging a hand down his face, "I don't have time for this. My name is Tulio. And you are?"

Well that was curt. He kinda understood it though.

He was on a time limit too.

Maybe they could-

"I'm Charles Rowland" the ghost puts on his best smile, and offers his hand out, "I reckon we can help each other out, yeah?"

Notes:

rather short, i'm sorry TT^TT it made more sense to me to format it this way

please leave a comment if you enjoyed, your hopefully dear author would love to see what you think is gonna happen or if you enjoyed <3 <3 <3

Chapter 3: The Sun

Summary:

Edwin spirals, and then meets a man with sun spun hair

Notes:

chapters will probably get longer after this- i just wanted the boys to have parallels to each other :3

"Charles?"

Edwin's hand remains stretched out, offering help to dead air.

There's nothing. Not even the root that tripped his partner. Just- cloying, unbearable silence.

"Charles, where did you go?" this wasn't the type of joke he'd play, not at all, even when Edwin bit too hard and he skulked off. He never went far. And there was always a note.

He couldn't have gone far now.

The Edwardian turns in a full circle, careful to survey for the slightest hint of movement.

Until he realizes that there are none.

The forest is silent, still in a way that feels distinctly like.. a photograph. It's unsettling, even for someone who used to live by the rule of it.

...used to.

He hadn't realized that changed until it was quiet again.

"Charles, I'm sorry," Edwin starts off in a random direction, tearing bark off every few trees to set a trail, "Please, I didn't mean any of it."

He hadn't, he really hadn't.

Of course he'd take care of him if he'd caught a case of ghostly fungi again, a million times over if he had too, if only it meant they were together.

It wasn't Charles' fault that they had been stuck in Port Townsend either, not entirely. If Edwin hadn't spelled a cat then- if he had been a little firmer.. a little more understanding-

"Charles!"

"Hello there!"

Edwin throws the piece of bark in his hand on instinct. [no he does not yelp. and it is most certainly not high-pitched. no.]

A man, with hair like spun gold, suddenly topples from a tree a scant few paces in front of the Edwardian as the bark kerthunks against his forehead.

"Oof-!"

...he's not going to apologize.

It's kind of impressive, or it would be had he not been preoccupied with other important matters, how the golden man managed to prevent totally hitting the ground by hanging from his knees.

Like the kiddies he'd see hanging from metal bars upon playgrounds.

"..was that necessary?" he asks, sounding vaguely like a puppy left out in the rain.

Edwin shoves that mental image away and locks it in a box.

"Admittedly.. no. I'm afraid you caught me off guard."

He won't apologize for being startled, considering this man appeared out of nowhere, but- well, he won't lie either.

With a 'hup!' noise, the stranger pulls himself right side up and lands cleanly on his feet in front of Edwin- green eyed and sun kissed and wow.

The man was no Charles Rowland, of course, no one could compare to the beauty of his partner. However, Edwin certainly wasn't blind either.

Anymore.

Regardless of his thoughts, a hand- more slender than his apparent build would suggest and with fingertips wrought with callouses- is thrust into the space between them.

A musician's hand.

"Ah, all's well." huh, "Are you also looking for your friend?"

...what.

Edwin takes his hand back before it can make contact. How did this man know who he was looking for? That he had even come into this forest with someone?

That was odd.

It was true, you couldn't trust pretty people. Pretty men even less. He should've known better. Especially after Port Townsend.

"How on earth could you possibly guess something like that?"

"Were you shouting your own name?" he asks, and what's worse is he sounds genuine- concerned for the other ghost's mentality no doubt, but genuine.

...goodness.

"My apologies," the Edwardian clears his throat, "I've been terribly callous to you so far. I believe introductions are in order. My name is Edwin Payne."

The man blinks, as if lost, before muttering: "How old are you?"

It's more to himself than to the other ghost, Edwin thinks, but he answers anyway. He might as well.

"I died at 16, in the Edwardian era."

Silence.

"That's so young," and oh- the man looks positively scandalized.

...hm. Odd though, too. Edwin had a decent amount of height on this stranger, so- well, they couldn't be that far apart in age. Physically- anyway.

"...and you?" he coaxes, distinctly uncomfortable as the stare stretches on.

The man blinks twice.

"Right-" ...not a thought in that pretty head. God bless, "Well, Tulio and I- that's my partner- died sometime after 1519, I think. I'm Miguel."

Miguel.

Alright then.

Edwin could work with that.

He offers his hand again, and this time the Edwardian takes it with a firm shake.

"Perhaps we can be of assistance to each other."

Notes:

please leave a comment if you enjoyed, your hopefully dear author would love to wake up to your thoughts <3 <3 <3

Notes:

lowkey, i just wanted an excuse to whump Charles and Miguel my bad. chapter two should either be up by the AMs or by the end of the week so don't worry -W•
-> this was just getting quite long

please leave a comment if you enjoyed, your hopefully dear author is posting this chapter before they take a nap <3 <3 <3

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of Please, Stop Throwing Your Head into Walls