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Babe simply can’t sleep. Or really anything that wasn’t related to Charlie, which is kind of ironic considering the younger alpha was dead. Has been for a week, and he’s still the only thing he can think about.
He’s finding evidence against Pa to make him pay for what he did for Charlie. He’s talking to Alan and the others about his findings of said evidence. He’s thinking about all the things Charlie used to do while he was alive, and sometimes the others can get him talking about him. He’s visiting his condo for things that were Charlie’s. Hell, anytime he can bring himself to eat or is forced to by his friends, he‘s eating Charlie’s favorites.
He can’t bring himself to stop, because he’s afraid if he does he’ll forget him. Forget his puppy-like face and how he used his cute pout to his advantage to get what he wanted. How he knew just how to push Babe’s buttons to get him riled up and how he would act like he was so cool. And how- stop.
He needed to stop thinking about him if he wanted any chance at sleep. Alan made it clear if he didn’t get at least a little sleep tonight he would find a way to get melatonin into his system and force him to sleep. With how concerned the older man looked at him then, it wouldn’t surprise Babe one bit if he actually did.
After a few minutes of trying to force himself to sleep, the alpha let out a frustrated groan and sat up. He can’t. He just can’t .
No matter how many times he rolls over and closes his eyes, he can’t fall asleep. His brain won’t let him. Not when he could be doing something. Anything to get closer to bringing Tony down is better than lying here and wasting time .
He still remembers the last words he told Charlie.
I’m so disappointed in you.
For what? For being worried about him? It was only natural the younger was worried, he was still injured. His wrist and leg still weren’t completely healed to this day. And no matter how much he won’t admit it, doing that race did aggravate them.
The last conversation Babe and Charlie had was an argument. Because Babe had too much pride.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, ready to find something to do, Alan and his drugs be damned. He felt the ice-cold floor of the guest bedroom and heard his phone ring.
Who the hell is calling me at three in the morning?
Noticing it was an unknown number, he immediately tensed. This could be anyone so he needed his guard to be up in case this was related to Tony, but he knew he should answer on the off chance they weren’t one of Tony’s minions.
“Hello?”
Nothing . The person on the other side didn’t answer. All he could hear was their breathing. Their awfully familiar breathing.
Maybe they're nervous. Or aren’t in a safe place to talk aloud.
However, he didn’t have time for this. He needs to be out there, doing something.
“Hello?” He tried a gain but the person on the other end seemed to be struggling to breathe. As if they were trying not to cry, or panic? Babe wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to waste time figuring it out. “Why did you call just to be silent?”
Babe had to swallow a frustrated sigh when he once again didn’t get an answer. He would’ve hung up by now but something was stopping him. More specifically someone was stopping him. The person who called. Not verbally, of course, seeing as the only thing they’re doing is basically hyperventilating into the mic, but…
He knows that breathing.
Where he knows it from, he hasn’t put his finger on it yet. But he’s positive he’s heard it before. He’s racking his brain to connect it to someone, and he keeps drawing blanks.
But then… he remembers a puppy that wears glasses trying to hold back tears when he was trying to get Babe to listen to his explanations all those times the older was mad at the other. Those times he was begging for just a minute of his time so he could tell him it was a misunderstanding. And he hopes.
He hopes he’s right because the pieces are falling together so perfectly and he’d recognize that breathing anywhere.
“Charlie? Is that you, Charlie?” The older hears another breath hitch and he knows it’s him. It has to be. “Where are you? Please, Charlie, are you safe?”
Halfway through the last word the call disconnects and that only confirms the caller's identity more.
Immediately he goes to his most recent calls and clicks the top number. He tries multiple times and none of them go through. All his calls go to voicemail, making him start to wonder if he hallucinated the whole thing considering he hasn’t slept for thirty-two hours and the time he did sleep it was only for an hour.
No. He didn’t hallucinate. He couldn’t have. Otherwise, the number wouldn’t be in his recents. Which means one thing. He’s alive. Charlie’s alive.
What. The. Fuck.
Why? How?
Babe knows it’s probably got something to do with Tony because it always is, But the answer he wants to know is, why didn’t Charlie let him know his plan? Why did he let him grieve him and mourn for him, even though he was alive? Was it to make it seem real? That’s the only answer he can come up with.
Or was this someone else's plan? Don't get him wrong, Charlie faking his death for some self-sacrificing bullshit he convinced himself of has the younger alpha's brand of stupid written all over it, so he wouldn't put it past him. However, this could also have Pa's brand of sick behavior over it, making Babe believe the one person he's ever loved is dead to make him a completely vulnerable mess so it would be easier to take him. For what, he didn't know yet. Leverage? Did he find out Charlie had taken Babe's powers?
At this point, he can’t seem to get himself to feel anything but an overwhelming amount of relief. Before he felt like his head was being held underwater. Now he’d been let go, his head finally coming back up and he could breathe again. There's still some water left in his lungs, but he'll cough that up when Charlie is safe and with him again.
He knows he should probably be horrified that his boyfriend possibly faked his own death and left him here to fall apart. But he just can’t find it in himself to be mad, when he has a chance at getting what he’s so desperately wanted back for a week. A horrible, agonizing week. The only person he's angry with is Tony, that fucker, because he knows he's somehow a part of this, and he's going down one way or another.
Babe doesn’t know if Charlie’s safe yet, but he’s going to do anything and everything he can to find him. Even if it means he has to make a deal with the devil himself.