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It was raining. Thick drops fell; they converted to ice in the cold, and rain froze, and fluttered. It couldn’t really be called raining when it was falling indiscriminately between snow, ice, and water. The trees hung low with their feathered weight, and the sidewalks underneath remained clear so long as the branches kept their weight. The grass underneath their feet crackled with frozen life.
It had been raining so much that it had reminded Edwin of London.
London that rained, and drizzled, and kept its cold tightly wrapped around its heart while hiding from the sun with an umbrella of clouds.
He sighed. Edwin really did miss London.
The world was muffled in a way that London wasn’t. It was strange how he could compare the two: America and England, sun and snow, joy and sadness.
No, perhaps it wasn’t that he missed London, or even England. He just missed the time and place before complications arose between his mind and his heart.
He caught sight of the bracelet that chained him here, and perhaps, his mind and heart, before he quickly tucked it into his sleeve. Out of sight, out of mind.
If only it were that simple.
The chill passed through him; he remained untouched by the real world. Droplets fell through him and collided with the ground underneath his feet. Crystal was coated in it; if she were to have lain out under the sky, she could not be more covered. Her hair clung to her skin, her cheeks red, and her breath misted in front of her.
Niko was much the same; she had just been better prepared for whatever the weather was doing at the moment. Her thick coat and gloves kept out the cold; she had given her scarf to Crystal. She was a kind spirit in the way that Edwin never could be.
It wasn’t really raining like it did in England. It was technically sleeting here. It was miserable and cold. Crystal had been complaining steadily from the moment that they had left the Devlin house. If her opinion were to be trusted, then any longer out here and she’d lose her fingers. And her opinion was to be trusted, Edwin knew that much now.
She said something, muttered, and foul, under her breath.
The snow wasn’t high yet, and it would melt come the dawn, but as of yet, in the early morning darkness, they were forced to trudge through it. The world was grey, with the sneaking rays of dawn crawling from between and through the thick flurry of flakes of snow and rain. The floor was carpeted in a mix of snow and icy cold water.
Other than Crystal’s grumbling and Niko’s occasional answer to rhetorical questions, they had remained silent. Edwin knew that if Crystal had been any less shaken by that house, she would be just as quiet as the rest of them. Now she was just fighting off the horror the way she stamped her feet to stave off the cold.
It hadn’t been hard on just her. Fear clung to Edwin, and he knew it clung to Charles. Ever since meeting Niko, however, that fear was gone without a trace.
Somehow Niko had erased it from Charles’ countenance and from his smile.
Any jealousy Edwin could have harbored, for he knew it to be jealousy now, could not hold. He just wanted Charles to be okay. He just didn’t know how to-
Edwin looked at Niko then. She walked ahead of him, arm looped in with Crystal. She was talking to Charles over Crystal. Charles, who walked beside them. He laughed and nodded at something she was saying.
Edwin lagged behind them.
Perhaps Crystal was right; she was, he knew, almost always right, just usually about other people instead of herself. It was a rather unfortunate trait of hers to know what the problems were with other people, just- not how to handle her own.
The trees above them shuddered with the wind. The world was quiet.
And that was when he heard it.
It was frail, high-pitched, and almost completely muffled by the falling snow around them. Muffled by the quiet white, and the groaning of branches, and by the steady traffic of the road.
But Edwin heard it.
He stopped and turned his head. There was nothing. The snow fell, Crystal, Charles, and Niko kept walking, and the sound did not return. Edwin stood a second or so longer before- there! There it was again.
Edwin spun to follow it until he found it. “Charles.” He called out.
He waited a minute longer, but when the sound came again, he didn’t stop to make sure that they had heard him before he took one step and then another to chase it.
Somewhere behind him, he knew they had heard his call just by the sound of Charles’ confused, “Edwin?”
The tiny sound called him.
Edwin knew that sound. He knew it. It was small, and smothered, and desperate. A long time ago, he had heard it before. A long time ago. A long time before- before endless passageways, and before endless running, and before it all.
He started to run.
There was an urgency to his thoughts. He knew the sound, as anguished as it was, and as different as it was, it echoed in his head. It haunted him. It had haunted him the moment he had returned to the world; it haunted him with its life.
He scanned the park as he ran through it. Behind him, he caught faint glimpses of Crystal calling after him. That wouldn't do; he couldn’t hear it if they were talking. If he couldn’t hear, he’d be too late again. He’d be too late again. Not again. He wouldn’t be late, not this time.
Centuries-old regret tore at him like a frenzied animal, and he ran.
There! He heard it again. He stopped midstep and spun around. Where? Where? There!
Due to the heavy snow, most streets had been closed. Any small, early morning traffic was shuttled off into a different direction. The streets were flooded, choked up by snow, sleet, and water. There was so much water.
Water drowned, it took and it took. It would drown-
The water wasn’t what made Edwin freeze in his tracks; it was what was in the street among the water. Hidden in the white, she stood out with only a few black patches.
A cat. A desperate, terrified cat. She cried, and cried, and Edwin felt each piercing wretched sound in the depth of his bones. The cries echoed and echoed.
She was alone, hovering by the curb. He could barely see her through the snowfall. He hoped and hoped, but when she moved to the side, he saw it.
Or to be more exact, he saw its absence.
Then, over her cries, he heard it, the tiniest response, small and wavering. Cold shock, the mother, for that must be what she was, clawed frantically at the concrete. It was so cold out, it was too cold.
By the time Edwin realized the full extent of the situation, Charles had just caught up, with the girls close behind.
“Edwin?” Charles said worriedly, “Are you okay, mate?”
Another heartwrenching cry, and Edwin didn’t stop to answer. He took off again.
He slowed down as he approached her. The last thing he wanted to do was scare the mother. She could perceive him as a threat and fight him off, and then he would be unable to help her. Or she would run. And if she ran-
Edwin stopped a few meters away from her. He just needed to announce his presence…
She heard him, however, and when she glanced at him, he saw her in full. She looked so- familiar. Pure white save for a few black spots, and she would have been much the same. So similar, but so different. Edwin could feel the pull at his memories, like something wanted to resurface, yet he did not know what. No, he knew what, he just couldn’t- think about it just now. He needed to focus.
“Hello,” Edwin called softly.
She turned and looked directly at him. That was when he saw her true and striking resemblance to-
It was the fur surrounding her eyes that reflected like in a mirror, speckled with black. And it was in her eyes, where the sharpest shade of green he had ever seen stared back at him.
That was where the resemblance faded.
Suddenly, within the blink of an eye, he was transported back more than a hundred years ago to when he was just a child, and there opposite him, a small white cat, eyes just as green, fur just as white, spots just as black.
He felt a great deal of sorrow before he shook himself out. He blinked and took a hesitant step towards her through the snow.
“Please,” He said quietly, “Let me help you.”
The cat stared at him, and her eyes flicked down to the street by her feet before she backed a little way away from him.
“Is it your kitten?” Edwin asked, “What’s wrong?”
A tiny, shrill cry came from somewhere within the street. The mother immediately became distressed, but when Edwin attempted to approach, she moved further away from him and further away from her kitten. She did not talk to Edwin; she ignored him and simply called her baby.
He took one too many steps, and with one wide-eyed look at him, she turned tail and ran.
Edwin stared in bewilderment before the tiny cry from the baby jolted him into action.
The street, yes, the street. He surveyed it.
Snow piled up around the street curb; it was a suffocating mass. There were no signs of a kitten.
Where was the kitten?
He followed the tiny meows until he came across a street drain. Cold sludge trickled through the nearly covered grating, and there, deep in the dark, sat a little glowing star of a white kitten. The grating must have been slowly degrading over time, because a perfect kitten-sized gap in the bars had broken away.
The kitten was damp, its fur pressed with the wetness of the pool it sat in, and its tiny eyes fixed up at the hole calling, calling, calling for mama.
The water was not so deep that it covered the kitten’s head, but just so that the kitten was encased enough in the cold to be in great danger of freezing to death.
Edwin did not so much as think for a minute before he got on his knees in front of the grate and, with strong sweeping movements, he cleared all snow away from its surface. He pulled off his gloves, a useless motion, but still, he did so. Perhaps from some thought of comforting the kitten with what looked like flesh, then just fabric.
The moment he touched the grate, he became aware of how tricky this would be. The tips of his fingers burned, and he gasped. That did not stop him, however, because he gritted his teeth and plunged his arm into and through the small gap in the grates.
Every bit of the iron that he shoved himself against started to sizzle and burn him. It tore through his translucent skin, and it started to eat away at his essence.
“Edwin!” Shocked and horrified, came Charles’ and Crystal's shouts. There was more; most likely, they could be talking to him, yelling at him, or cajoling, but Edwin did not listen. Everything faded into the background as he focused intently.
He breathed.
His skin solidified, and it burned, and the scrape of metal cut into him and started dissolving everything with its acidic touch. Still, he pushed through until he met the small trembling body at the bottom of the drain. It was a deep drain, so deep that it took him until his shoulder before he could grasp the tiny thing.
The moment he had a steady grip on the kitten was the moment that he started to lift it carefully. Immediately sharp, needle-like claws sank into his palm and fingers. Arcs of fire expanded explosively from the points of contact, and Edwin hissed in pain.
It was incredible how that got through the ever insistently growing fire of iron.
The ascent was slow and cautious. Edwin took deep, steady breaths as his arm pressed into metal and his hand was stabbed by tiny, desperate claws. When the kitten finally emerged into the air, he fell back into the snow.
“Niko!” He called, and immediately she was by his side. He took the offered hand up with his free one, “Here,” He said once he was finally standing. Niko reverently took the baby with everything Edwin expected of her. She carefully, gently, and with love opened her coat and held the baby to her chest to warm it up.
Edwin felt a little dizzy. His arm was still smoldering, but he didn’t want to look at it just yet.
It felt like the world had stopped momentarily, but when he looked up, the sky still cried its frozen tears, and the wind still blew, and life, thankfully, continued on.
Charles quickly grabbed Edwin’s shoulder, “Your arm, mate!” He said, horrified.
Edwin looked. His arm smoked, parts of it blackened with the fire of iron. Crystal covered her mouth, “You idiot,” She said roughly, “You should’ve asked me to do it. I would’ve done it, it wouldn’t have hurt me.”
Edwin opened his mouth to respond when he saw her expression. Her eyes were wide, and her hands shook a little. She looked like she was about to cry.
Niko, too, and Charles. Charles' grip on his shoulder had not ceased and had in fact grown tighter.
“Edwin.” He said.
He didn’t say anything else, though. Just Edwin’s name.
Then, there, amidst the falling snow and drizzling rain, a figure stood.
Edwin hadn’t noticed him, not when everything in him screamed with pain, though his lips were pressed firmly shut. Not when Charles focused on him the way he had been, not when he could still hear the muffled cries of the kitten in Niko’s jacket.
But there he stood. Faint flickers of purple and smoke blew away from him, and the remnants of their fire dissipating quickly into the air.
The Cat King.
Edwin shuddered from pain. From pain or the cold, or from just seeing the embodiment of every phantom that had ever haunted his soul.
Seeing him standing there, fear and worry etched into his face, visible even through the wind, was a shock. Edwin couldn’t help but notice how he was dressed too lightly for the weather. In his arms lay the mother whose claws were visible even now as she strained towards them.
The Cat King stopped looking and inclined his head and spoke to the mother. He soothed her before finally, gently, lowering her to the ground and releasing her. She scrambled towards them and cried.
There was a small response from within Niko’s coat. Niko turned and gasped, and then, on seeing the mother, she carefully opened her coat.
“Niko,” Edwin said, and his voice came out in a rough rasp, “May I?” And he reached out his hands to her.
The kitten was handed to him, and he cradled it. The poor thing hadn’t stopped shaking, and even the tips of its ears trembled slightly. He was worried about it.
He took a step, and then another, forward. He then knelt, his knees in the snow, and felt the ground meet him, rising up. And he looked to the mother, and stretched out his aching, burning arm and revealed the kitten.
He could only think, I wasn’t too late, I’m sorry, I was too late last time, I’m so sorry. I will never be late again.
The mother was like that mother all those years ago, but this time she did not ask why. She did not ask, Why couldn’t you help me? Why didn’t you help me? Help me. Please.
She simply looked up at him and said, through her agonized green eyes, “Thank you.”
Edwin didn’t cry, he didn’t say, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help you, I had lessons- Mother would not allow it- I cannot help you.”
He smiled and said, “You’re welcome.”
The Mother made inquisitive chirps at her baby, cleaned and then scruffed it. She turned to leave but glanced back once at Edwin, and blinked, slowly and surely. Then, in a flash of flames, she was gone at the movement of the Cat King’s hand.
Edwin remained where he knelt, tired and feeling a bit too much of everything at the moment.
He looked up, however, when someone approached him. Not someone, he knew who he was, he just didn’t- he really didn’t know what to do or say. Instead, he just looked.
The Cat King stood above him, staring at him like he’d never seen anything like Edwin before. Wide-eyed, wonderingly.
Edwin couldn’t bear to stare up at him, and so he looked down. His arm still blistered, and there, in the middle of the immense damage glinting in the low light, was the bracelet. That damned bracelet.
It was all his fault that they were here, it was all his fault that all this had happened. They should, to all intents and purposes, be in London at the moment. They could be, they would have been. But the kitten- And suddenly, for the first time, Edwin couldn’t find it in himself to be ashamed. Oh, he had felt shame every day of his life, but not for saving something so frail, and innocent, and blindly trusting of the world as a kitten.
A gentle snap cut through the air, and without even a touch, the bracelet glowed, and in a second, it was gone. Edwin looked up immediately.
In the Cat King’s hand was held the bracelet. The Cat King did not look away from him.
“I haven’t counted all of the cats yet.” Edwin said, startled, “Why?”
“Because,” The Cat King said slowly, “You made me happy.”
Edwin’s hand tingled with the remaining sting of the kitten's claws. The iron took the forefront of the pain, but the claws remained. Edwin hoped they would remain for a great long while so that he could just remember. To a ghost, any sensation was a good one. Or perhaps that was just true of Edwin.
To Edwin, it was a gentle pain. Bittersweet, from his memories of being alive, bittersweet because what else could it be?
“I want to repay you.” The Cat King said, “You have more than settled your debt with me, but it is now I who owes you.”
He approached Edwin and hesitated, but when Edwin made no protest, he knelt in front of him. With careful hands, he reached out and touched Edwin’s burning arm. His fingers skated over fraying skin and tearing form until they came to rest over the small pinpricks of poisonous grey left from the kitten.
He leaned down, and Edwin let him. Lips so unfelt but so real pressed to the wounds, and when the Cat King withdrew, the little puncture marks started to knit themselves back together. And with the disappearance of touch, the poison eased its way from his veins. He could feel it, minuscule as it was, chasing after the Cat King’s lips, and then it was all gone.
They sat there.
Edwin could almost feel Charles hovering, just meters away. He was sure, so absolutely sure, that Crystal was holding him back. Niko, too, no doubt.
He didn’t say anything, and neither did the Cat King. The fingers and hands remained on Edwin’s own; they caressed him like they were tracing stars and constellations in the night sky of his blackened, melted skin.
“Your hands are cold.” The Cat King said eventually, and then, gracefully, he withdrew and stood.
“You’re a wonderful kind of soul,” he told Edwin, and the Cat King looked at him, from tilted head, all while his fingers tapped against themselves. There was a strange look in his eyes as he leaned down to run a hand across Edwin’s cheek, “Goodbye, Edwin.”
Throughout this, Edwin let it all happen. He was free… he was free?
Then came the thought that nothing tied him there anymore, nothing but his traitorous mind.
And as he was touched and thanked, he felt numb, although he didn’t know why. He didn’t know how. But when the Cat King said, “Goodbye, Edwin.” in such a way, at such a time it felt almost unbearably like goodbye forever. There was never a hello, and now- he was getting a goodbye.
Edwin suddenly could not remember the last time he had ever said goodbye to anyone. Not to his mother, who couldn’t wait for him to leave the house. Not from his father, or his classmates, or… or anyone. Except- Except there had been one, one last goodbye. And it had been from the softest kitten Edwin had ever known, or ever been with, with the sweetest of eyes, and the gentlest of hearts.
The same cat who comforted him when he was lonely, and who played with him and showed him what love really was when the world felt loveless. The same cat to whom he could never repay the favor. She had said goodbye.
Edwin staggered to a stand, suddenly, and grabbed the Cat King’s arm.
Every move tore and burned the muscles, and his arm twinged with a strange agony he never should have felt in his death.
He grabbed the Cat King and said roughly, “Why goodbye?”
The Cat King turned in confusion. He looked down at where Edwin held on to his hand, “You don’t have to stay anymore.” He said. “I’m not keeping you here,” He frowned, “also Ester really wants to kill you, again, so you should probably just-” He trailed off.
Edwin winced and let go of him.
“We have several more cases to solve,” Edwin said slowly as he tried to collect himself. He thought for a moment, “Besides, I find that I quite like America after all,” he said at last, resolutely. He did not feel resolute. He only felt hopeful, almost desperate.
The Cat King smiled a little, “Well,” He said, “then, I would always be happy to see you,” and he took a step and pressed a kiss to Edwin’s cheek. When he pulled back, something around his eyes had gone a little soft: “Whenever you want.”
And then in a swirl of crackling flames, he disappeared. Snow quickly filled in the space of air that his absence left behind. Edwin looked back down at his hands, and he smothered a smile.
He tilted his head to look back up at the sky. It glowed gold above him, grey slowly being replaced by the colors of day.
When he turned around, Crystal, Niko, and Charles all stared at him. Niko raised a hand, “First of all, who was that? And also Edwin!” She clapped her hands together and laughed, eyes sparkling, “What was that?”
Edwin smiled tiredly, “I was-” He struggled on the correct words for a second before he finally settled on, “Repaying an old debt.”
Crystal blinked in surprise, “The fuck?”
“That was the Cat King, Niko,” Charles answered her, “And I have no idea what Edwin was planning with that stunt.” He was partially glaring at Edwin, partially anxiously surveying him.
Crystal snapped her fingers, “Edwin lost the bracelet, though! We can leave now!”
Edwin rolled his shoulders, trying to retain his previous posture of confidence. He just didn’t know if he had succeeded when he spoke, “You heard what I said,” he fidgeted a little, “I think there are a few more cases for us here.”
Niko shot him a blinding smile.
“You mean the evil seagulls?” Crystal asked sarcastically, “Are we not just staying for cat boy?” She waited a second for a response, but when Edwin gave her no decisive one, she shrugged, “Either way I’m okay staying a little longer, now c’mon let’s get out of the snow, I’m cold and hungry and I need a nap, and therapy while we’re at it.”
Niko squealed and ran and caught Crystal by the arm. Just behind them was Charles.
He too caught Edwin’s arm. He inspected the burns and sighed, “C’mon, mate.”
They started walking.
“They should heal in a couple of hours,” Charles said offhandedly.
“I know,” Edwin said.
"It was really difficult to watch," Charles said a little reproachfully.
"I know, I'm sorry."
They continued on in silence, the girls ahead of them talking to each other, their words falling back and fading through the wind.
“Was it worth it?” Charles asked eventually, and he glanced at Edwin, “I know you regret her, losing Clementine, your cat.” He sighed and kicked at the snow, “I know I would.”
Edwin laughed a little, perhaps a little deliriously. It had been a lot for one day. The iron burns were repairing themselves as they spoke, but they still smoked, and they still hurt. It was rather hard to- realize what he’d done. “I do, I did.” He admitted, “I- feel better about it now, though.”
Charles smiled at him and gripped him comfortingly around the shoulders. “You were very brave today, Edwin Payne,” he pronounced, “I’m very proud of you.”
And Edwin leaned into him a little, and they walked together.
“The Cat King, though.” Charles said, and he shook his head teasingly, “I knew he had a thing for you, just didn’t know it was r‘ciprocated, did I?”
Edwin huffed, “I told you, didn’t I?”
Charles sighed dramatically, head tilted up to the sky as if imploring some higher power, “But so late, so late.” He laughed a little. He nudged Edwin a little, confidentially, “I’m happy for you, mate.” He said, “Well done.”
And Edwin leaned back into him, and they walked through the snow. They were no less tired, a little more hurt, but their hearts, especially Edwin’s, felt…lighter. He felt…happy.
It’d been a while since he’d felt that way.
The snow fell, and fell, and the sun rose and rose. It was, altogether, a rather brilliant day.