Chapter Text
"The spine will say 'Horticultural Plagues,'" Edwin said as he gazed up at the bookshelf, a book on demonic plants already in his hand. Edwin was lying across the sofa in the Dead Boy Detectives Agency office while Charles helped him search for some sort of solution to their current problem. Ever since he and Charles had left the Dalakit Forest that morning, he'd been feeling quite ill and he was certain that coming into contact with some plant or other had resulted in him feeling like rubbish. Certainly one of these books could illuminate the cure-all or spell needed to reverse the effects, or at least put him at ease that it was temporary.
Charles reached up for a book on the high shelf, standing on tiptoes--nearly knocking over a glass jar of man-eating spores with his elbow, mind--and that's when Edwin got an unplanned eye full of Charles' hip as his shirt became stretched up along his waist. He nearly clutched his chest from the jolt of electricity he felt surge through him. If he hadn't already been feeling so miserable, this moment could have been delightfully uncomfortable for him. Precious little could derail Edwin as easily as an unexpected showing of Charles' skin usually hidden beneath layers of his clothing. The white vest he sometimes wore was a damn nuisance at the best of times, but when paired with braces, Edwin could swear he felt faint. Perhaps he was a bit silly and romantic but god dammit, Charles' shoulders and the bit of his chest, and now his hip. It was an unfair play, in Edwin's mind, what with the unreciprocated feelings and everything, but that was the toll to be 'best mates' with Charles: sometimes one saw more than enough to fall in love with him despite the protestations of logic and reason. Edwin scolded himself for that one: it was just Charles' hip for god's sake.
Charles at last brought him the book he was after, handing it to him with a kind smile, eyes warm and so big and inviting Edwin thought he might just drown in them. "Feeling any better?"
Edwin made an attempt to answer that came out as fumbled nonsense, as he was still too busy admiring Charles to speak apparently. At least he could pass it off as related to whatever toxin he'd ingested in the forest.
Charles knelt down beside the couch and Edwin stiffened. It was still quite ridiculous that close proximity to the ghost he'd spent three and a half decades with made him weak these days. Charles lifted a hand, hovering it above his forehead. Edwin stared at it, a bit mesmerised. Charles finally laid his palm across Edwin's skin, feeling him for fever.
"Charles, I am not feverish," Edwin insisted, sounding a bit snappy without meaning to. "Ghosts cannot get sick. You know this."
Charles removed his hand and Edwin sighed internally at the loss. "Yeah, well you also told me ghosts can't get nauseous and yet here you are."
"Nauseated," Edwin corrected, sitting himself up to glance over the book Charles had brought him. He recognised several plants that had been in the forest but according to their descriptions, nothing explained why he was feeling so peaky. Charles had been near to all those plants as well and by all accounts, he was feeling fine. Edwin thought back to their morning to try to conjure up any more details that would help him understand what was happening to him. Charles had gotten back to his feet and wandered away to the bookshelf once more.
Edwin was about to give him instructions on another book to fish out of the collection when without warning, he felt a shock go through his body. Edwin gripped the couch with one hand, the other steadying his book as he worked at keeping silent. No need to alarm Charles any more than he already had. Edwin felt himself spasm with another full body shake and gripped the couch a little tighter. The spasms were oddly reminiscent of a pulse, an eerie sensation to have after so many years without it.
Edwin's eyes flicked over to Charles' back, thankfully covered with the entirety of his shirt this time. The last thing he needed right now was more of Charles' skin. "Charles, what about the one on the second shelf to the--" He stopped mid-sentence when he felt another sharp pulse.
Charles, hackles evidently raised by the sudden stop, spun around to watch him. "You okay?" he asked, frowning. Charles was taking stock of him, his hands white-knuckled against the couch and book respectively, the inexplicable sweat beading on his forehead and what was probably a fairly distressed expression.
"Of course," Edwin answered dismissively. "Now if you wouldn't mind staying focussed, I'll need the book on Spectral Trees."
Charles sighed through his nose and went back to searching. While he was distracted, Edwin squeezed his eyes shut. The pulse was becoming faster and louder, no longer a full-body convulsion, but rather an internal sensation and noise. It was like hearing a drum in his head that vibrated through a non-existent bloodstream. Then there was one more bodily convulsion for good measure and it all stopped. The sweat on his forehead dried out rapidly as if it were evaporating. Edwin's nausea was also gone in an instant, and he felt back to himself.
Edwin carefully got up from the couch just in case another wave of some earthly sensation decided to surprise him. "Odd," he commented.
Charles turned back to him. "What's odd? Feeling something else?" The amount of concern Charles could put into his words was a worthwhile study in his depth of emotion. For the longest time, Edwin only ever saw two things from his friend: some designation of happiness or contentment (this was foremost) and then worry. Of course, being Charles, the worry was never for himself. He sprinted into danger and haphazardly fought his way through demons and dragons and on one occasion a very lippy banshee. But when it came to Edwin, Charles worried. He worried about Edwin's safety, yes, but also his feelings, which was a new layer to a relationship with another person that Edwin had never encountered before Charles. Over time and with a lot of trust, more layers were uncovered and Edwin was able to see so many more sides to Charles--the depths of sadness, of anger, of self-indulgence. Seeing all of him was like opening and reading a book that had previously been glued shut, only ever offering the cover as a clue to its contents. He hoped Charles could say the same about him, that seeing more of Edwin's depths only made him feel closer to him.
Edwin smiled faintly. "I'm feeling nothing. Well, that is, back to normal," he said. This seemed to put Charles at ease, his shoulders lowering down slightly. "I suppose we're done with that then. The Case of the Forest Guardian solved."
That's when he heard it. The sound was so abrupt and so shrill that Edwin was immediately taken back to his memories of hell. He had honed his reflexes and instincts after having been tortured and ripped apart by so many otherworldly creatures that he knew each of them by sound. This sounded closest to the cry of a demonic bat, larger than a human and thrice as strong. More than one had grabbed Edwin in its claws in his time in hell to carry him over a fiery pit that burned the bottoms of his feet until he screamed and then sometimes dropped him in to burn "alive". Edwin covered his ears and looked instinctively to Charles. Was something here to hurt him? Would he be taken from Charles? Worse--would Charles be hurt or taken from him?
Charles, bless, was oblivious to Edwin's panic, frowning at something behind him. He crossed the room and passed Edwin to go stand by the couch that Edwin had just vacated.
There was a little scrambling noise followed by a thoughtful sound of surprise. Charles looked around himself and his gaze landed on his jacket, which had been tossed carelessly onto the desk when they'd returned from the forest. Charles stooped down to wrap something up in his jacket carefully then turned around.
With an infant. In his arms.
Edwin lowered his hands from his ears, staring at the baby, still suspicious that it might transform into something horrific. But there it lied in Charles' arms, still shrieking. Still an infant. Its hair was dark and its face was pinched and red as it cried.
"It's a little human baby," Charles unhelpfully said.
"Well assessed, Charles. What is it doing here?"
"He was just lying over on the sofa," Charles said. He hadn't even looked up from the baby once.
"Yes, I've gathered that," Edwin said, losing patience. "But where did he come from?"
"Don't know, do I?" Charles answered, finally looking away from the baby. "But maybe it had something to do with how you suddenly started feeling better?"
Edwin's forehead creased with exasperation. He loved Charles, he really did. "Are you suggesting that I came into contact with a living child in an enchanted forest, and it--what, stowed away in my pocket without my knowledge making me ill in some unknowable way until it finally found its way out?" His tone was laced with thick sarcasm, pitching higher with each word as if it were climbing up stairs. The baby continued screaming. Edwin rubbed a hand over his face. "Is there any way you could get him to be quiet, Charles, or have you grown quite fond of that noise?"
Charles seemed to realise that he really ought to be soothing the baby so he started to rock his arms side to side, softly speaking to it and staring down at its frustrated face. When that didn't help matters, Charles started to twist his waist back and forth slowly and walk around the desk in a circle, holding the baby close as he did.
Edwin ignored both of them, hoping the problem would just resolve itself somehow, and went to put his books back into place. The sounds of crying soon receded and Edwin turned to see Charles perched on the edge of the desk, holding the bundle in his jacket proudly.
"Right," said Edwin, "time to be finding its mother so it can go and exist somewhere else."
"I don't know where we'd start on that one. Maybe someone will come looking for him?" Charles mused. He seemed to get caught in a gravitational pull each time that he glanced down at the baby, for he locked his gaze there for several seconds whenever it happened. "He's really, really tiny, inn'he?"
"Perhaps the girls can use their internet to find where it belongs," Edwin said. "A lost baby has nothing to do with us."
Charles looked up then, eyebrows knit together as he studied Edwin. He hopped down off the desk with care not to disturb the infant and then held it up close to Edwin's face.
"What are you doing?" Edwin demanded.
"Dunno...it's a bit freaky."
"Sorry, what is? A human infant appearing in our office? It's certainly not the oddest item that has ended up here."
"He is not an item, Edwin. And...he has the same eyes as you." Charles said this with the surety not of someone making a general comparison, but of someone announcing an exact replica.
Edwin wasn't sure what to make of that. Of all the things for Charles to comment on, he had not expected it to be his eyes and their likeness to that of a found baby.
Edwin pulled out his magnifying glass and held it close to the baby's face. The little face wrinkled and the eyes blinked slowly. Edwin frowned as he saw two green eyes that did, in fact, look precisely like his own. Charles was not exactly the most detailed person so the fact that he picked up on this was a bit of a surprise.
"Can he...can he see us?" Edwin asked.
"Looks that way, don't it?"
Edwin snapped the magnifying glass back into its case with a flourish of temper. "This is absurd," he stated frankly.
"Dunno about that," Charles said with a distinct lilt in his voice that suggested he was about to mercilessly tease Edwin. "Are you sure you haven't been off consorting with any ladies I should know about, Edwin? Or can ghosts just get knocked up?"
And because, of course, Edwin needed this moment to be even more mortifying, Niko walked in.
"Aww! You guys adopted a baby?"
--
Bent over in half with her hands resting upon her knees, Crystal peered at the baby now held in Niko's arms. The infant was squinting and taking in his surroundings, a bit frowny.
"This is wild," Crystal remarked. "He just....appeared? On your couch?"
"Yeah, it's brills," said Charles.
Edwin bristled. "It is most certainly not brills."
"It is," Charles insisted. "He could be, like, our little mascot."
"We do not need a mascot and as soon as we find her, he is going back to his mother."
Niko bounced the baby. "He's so, so cute, aren't you?" She cooed at him. "What's his name?"
"He did not come with a name, Niko," Edwin explained trying not to snap at her. He wasn't sure why everyone was playing this so casually. A baby that didn't belong to anyone had no place is their detective agency.
"Can you read him, Crystal?" asked Charles.
"I can try," she said, each word coming out slowly. "But usually babies don't have a lot of information attached to them." Crystal moved forward regardless and placed the tips of her fingers gently on the baby's shoulders. Her eyes flashed white and her head tilted back as she read the baby's psychic energy. She stayed in this position, humming and jerking her head in seemingly random directions for much longer than Edwin was expecting. The baby also seemed to take this in stride, happily nestled into the crook of Niko's elbow.
After several drawn out minutes, she stepped back from Niko and the baby with a slow but heavy exhale. Her eyes, which had gone back to normal, shifted across the room and landed on Edwin.
Edwin took an automatic step back when he saw the intensity of her gaze. Something within him felt tense, almost as if forewarning of a coming storm.
"This baby is you," Crystal said with certainty. "I was reading him like I was reading you. And not in his memories, those aren't there yet. It was more like...in his blood. His DNA maybe? He's...you, Edwin."
Everyone in the room looked over at the baby, as if trying to confirm the impossible truth of the matter. Edwin felt like he was having (ironically) an out of body experience. This thing, wherever it had come from, simply should not exist. So why did it? The detective part of his brain wanted to dive into this headfirst, to research the possibilities, the science, the illogical becoming possible. The part of his brain that was still tentatively tethered to reality wanted to run away from this situation, to grab Charles by the scruff of his shirt and disappear through the wall, let Niko and Crystal manage the living infant, whether it shared Edwin's likeness or not.
Edwin didn't get a chance to flee unfortunately.
"No, no, uh-uh," came Jenny's voice from the doorway, authoritatively blunt. Edwin respected that about her. "First of all, who does that belong to?"
"He's Edwin's and Charles'," Niko spoke up while snuggling the baby before anyone could stop her.
Do. Not. Look at Charles right now, Edwin ordered himself. He had already been prepared to perish of discomfiture before that little sentiment had been put out into the universe.
"He is not--" Edwin started to protest.
Jenny turned on him and he flinched a little under her stare. "Second of all, none of you need to be multiplying! You're all kids!"
"It was hardly intentional, thank you, and we are attempting to resolve this little problem as quickly as is possible," Edwin said, feeling a bit like he was being backed into a corner.
Jenny continued, unconcerned with what Edwin was trying to say, "And finally," she pointed at the baby, "that is a newborn. Has he been fed? Is there a plan to dress him that doesn't involve one of your jackets? Just...what the hell, people?"
Charles took the baby from Niko as if to shield him from Jenny's exasperation. "Gotta get some nappies. Can't let him wee in my jacket, can I?"
"I'll go get him some clothes and toys and formula!" Niko volunteered, her hand raising excitedly.
"You'll need a crib," added Crystal.
Edwin had to stop them. It was all spiraling out of control and he needed everyone to stay grounded. He cleared his throat pointedly. "You're all getting extremely carried away. We don't know where this thing has come from or if it comes with a very angry mother who wants to hunt us down. So, nappies fine. Formula, fine. And you can get a dress for him, but that is all."
Crystal frowned at him. "Let's go, Niko. I know what to get."
Jenny shook her head. "I'm coming too." She swerved on Edwin, which was unfair because he wasn't even holding the baby. "Don't do anything until I get back," she warned.
The three of them left in a frenzied whirlwind, leaving Edwin alone with Charles and a strange baby that somehow shared Edwin's essence. He finally managed to look Charles in the eye. Charles, who was smiling that knowing smile as if to say Isn't this aces? Charles, who was Edwin's stability in the afterlife, the one he depended upon the most. Charles, the boy who went to hell to rescue Edwin from an eternity of torture and suffering.
Charles, who was holding a baby incarnation of Edwin and telling it how handsome it was in a way that made Edwin absolutely ache.
--
While they awaited the girls' return, the baby progressively became fussier and less amused by anything Charles did to try and distract him. Charles was also getting fussier and less amused with the situation.
"What are we supposed to do?" he asked as the baby screamed at the top of his lungs. "Where's the off button on you, mate?" Charles looked at the baby's back and front as if searching for an actual button.
Edwin looked up at him over the top of his book, still trying to find an answer to what was happening. "I'm certain he's just hungry. That or concerned that the only person looking after him is a 16 year old ghost boy."
"Not helping," Charles said, trying to lay the baby onto the couch, perhaps with the hope that it would go to sleep. It immediately screamed louder so he picked it back up and put it onto his shoulder.
Charles suddenly straightened up, as if struck with an epiphany. "Ugh, I'm an idiot!"
"You said that, I didn't," Edwin mumbled.
"I've probably got some milk in the old infinite backpack, don't I?" Charles crossed the room and offered the baby to Edwin.
Edwin stared at them. "Pardon me. Can I help you?"
"I've gotta dig through a few layers to get it. Can't hold a baby and navigate a pocket dimension. Alright?" He thrust the baby again in Edwin's direction.
Edwin let out a put-upon sigh and looked down at the shrieking child in front of him. Reluctantly, he held out his hands to accept the baby and Charles gratefully passed him over the rest of the way. "Get a pair of earplugs for me while you're at it," he instructed Charles. He held the baby at arms' length, following Charles with his eyes.
"What for?" Charles was already shoulder deep in his backpack.
Edwin had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. "To reduce the noise of his wailing to a minimum."
Charles looked up at him with a smug smile. "What wailing?"
Edwin frowned and turned to look at the baby, which was, incredibly, silent. Edwin regarded him for the first time up close, apart from the magnifying glass earlier. The baby regarded him back, in a half-aware of what's going on-sort of way. "Is something wrong with him?" Edwin asked. Truth be told, Edwin had very little experience when it came to infants. The only ones he'd been witness to had been in their prams or held in their mother's arms at a park. Those had been a little more aware of their surroundings than this one though and he felt a little unruly tug of worry.
Charles left his backpack, holding a pint of milk. "What do you mean?"
"He's a bit..." Edwin tilted his head to one side to try and put his finger on what it was. "Slow?"
Charles' eyes narrowed and he moved his face closer the baby's. "Dunno. Is he?"
Edwin shrugged. "Perhaps he's just hungry."
Charles nodded, satisfied. "Right, there you go," he said, attempting to pass the pint of milk to Edwin.
"I believe you're meant to put that into a bottle first." Edwin finally pulled the baby into his chest. He had to adjust his hold a few times, unsure where against his body he should be holding it and how the baby should be arranged. He finally got it settled into a somewhat comfortable position and its fingers cryptically curled around the fabric of his coat. He rearranged Charles' jacket to be a bit more orderly around the baby.
"Uh, last I checked, this is a bottle." Charles held it up again.
"A feeding bottle, Charles," said Edwin. "This can't be the first time you've seen a baby drink."
Charles shrugged. "I dunno....thought maybe if you just tipped it into his mouth?"
"Then we'd both get drenched with milk."
"What if we covered him with a blanket first?"
"Charles."
"Fine," Charles acceded. "There must be a baby bottle in the backpack somewhere." He wandered back to his bag to search.
"I've no doubt," Edwin said. He found himself gazing down into the baby's tufts of dark hair and suddenly wondered if anyone had ever stared at the top of his own head with curiosity and wonder when he was a baby. If anyone had held him for hours trying to soothe him as Charles had held this one. He scoffed, concluding that certainly no one ever had.
The door swung open. "Charles, please tell me you weren't about to feed regular milk to that baby," Jenny said, walking in with bags of items. Her vision was like a heat-seeking missile that captured mistakes.
Charles looked sheepish. "I suppose so, yeah. Isn't that what you were going to feed him?"
Jenny held up a white can from one of the bags. "No, this is formula. This is safe for babies. Cow's milk can make him sick or mess up his intestines." She left the room, taking the can and a new bottle with her and leaving a chastised Charles. Edwin hadn't thought that feeding him milk had been the wrong idea either.
Niko and Crystal filtered into the room next, holding even more bags and Edwin felt a little aggravated at the sight of it all.
"Aww, Edwin's holding the baby!" Niko chirped, setting down her bags and starting to unpack, bright, colourful plastic items.
"I said we didn't need all of that," Edwin protested. The girls kept unpacking it all anyway, Crystal unboxing a large green container filled with nappies.
"C'mere, little guy," Crystal said in a voice pitched in such a way as Edwin had never heard from her. Thankfully, she took the baby off his hands and went over to the couch, Niko following with a handful of clothing items. Charles was given back his jacket and he slung it over the back of a chair.
Edwin frowned. "I hope you're not all getting attached to that thing," he said but he was ignored as the two girls were only interested in talking to and dressing the baby.
Charles came to stand by his side. "You alright, mate?"
Edwin looked up at him. "Of course," he replied. "I've been better since the morning passed."
"No I mean...with little Eds over there."
Edwin sighed, annoyed that everyone was so focussed about this baby all the time. "The fact that you think the existence of that thing has any effect on me whatsoever shows how little you know me."
Charles didn't take the bait. "I actually know you really well, Edwin. And you seem a bit...worried."
"Yes, Charles, I'm quite worried that you've all gone round the twist playing house with some creature that has likely stolen my DNA."
A burst of excited squeaking erupted from the couch and Edwin and Charles both looked over to see a triumphant Niko holding the baby now dressed in a romper with little rabbits on it.
Charles left Edwin's side to go and inspect the baby now in its new clothing. Edwin bristled but turned back to his reading as Jenny reentered holding a full bottle. Niko took over the feeding from an armchair as the other three watched on.
"Oh, you were hungry, weren't you little guy?" Crystsl said, still using that deplorable pitch that Edwin wasn't used to.
Edwin simply rolled his eyes and kept reading, waiting for it all to be over.
He glanced up again when movement caught his eye in time to see Charles take the baby from Niko and carry him over to the couch.
Edwin stood up, ready to move things along. "Alright, now that he's clothed and fed, we need to take him to Tragic Mick for his opinion."
Charles didn’t even look back at him. "Oh no you don't. He just settled down and had his milk. He's gonna have a sleep now and you can't disturb him."
Edwin huffed out a breath. "Fine," he said, drawing out the word. "Let him sleep and then we'll take him to Tragic Mick's."
Once again, he returned to his reading. Jenny was instructing Charles on making a barrier of pillows around the baby for safety, while informing him that he couldn't put a pillow under the head of the baby.
After things seemed settled, Edwin tried to discreetly pull Jenny to the side. He wanted her opinion on whether something was wrong with the baby since it seemed to be subdued and inattentive.
Jenny shook her head. "He's just a newborn. He can't see well yet and everything is a new sensation for him. In a couple of months, he'll be more aware and interactive."
Edwin nodded in thanks, unsure why this information brought on a sense of relief in him.
--
"A'yup. That's a baby."
Several hours and several waking and napping cycles later, Edwin had convinced Charles to accompany him to the magic shop so that Tragic Mick could make an assessment of the baby. Apparently, the baby needed a closet full of accessories to wear for the occasion--shoes and a bonnet and very tiny mittens.
Charles had held the baby out for Mick to observe only to receive the very obvious assessment.
"Yes," Edwin said, patience tentative, "but where did he come from? Why does he apparently have my eyes and my...DNA?"
"What happened right before he appeared?" Mick asked them.
"Edwin was feeling right ill and I was trying to find him a book on plants," Charles said, snugging the baby up on his shoulder where it began to fall asleep.
"Yes," Edwin agreed. "We had just returned from the Dalakit Forest--"
Mick interrupted him. "Wait, you went into the Dalakit Forest without wearing protection?"
Charles sputtered and Edwin glanced over at him, only to see that he had composed himself and was casually looking at a box of orange sand. "What kind of protection was I meant to wear?" Edwin demanded.
"Talismans," was the answer. "I sell them, FYI."
"What happens when you don't wear a talisman?" Charles asked.
Mick heaved a sigh. "You're more likely to come into contact with Dalaketnon mist." He grabbed an odd brochure from beneath his desk with the words SO YOUVE BEEN REPLICATED! written in excited font.
Edwin took the brochure from him, getting a glance at a drawing of a creature known as the Dalaketnon. It was a dark, spindly figure reminiscent of an elf. It needed to be added to the beastiary post-haste.
"The Dalaketnon mist makes mortal replicate copies of supernatural creatures," Mick explained.
"Right, that's wicked but why is it a baby and not...I dunno? An exact copy of Edwin? This Edwin?" Charles asked, indicating the 16 year old version.
"It works the same way as cloning does. You fellas familiar with Dolly the sheep?" When both ghosts simply stared back, Mick shook his head. "Never mind. Just trust me. This is how it works." He frowned at Charles. "Strange that only one of you was affected." He shrugged it off. "If a replicate hasn't popped up by now, it probably won't."
"How reassuring." Edwin slapped the brochure back on the desk. "Fine, how do we undo it?"
Mick raised a lazy eyebrow at him. "You don't," he said flatly.
The universe was testing him. It really was. He closed his eyes, knowing that this would not be easy. Edwin had really been hoping to avoid this, to have the baby magicked back to wherever it had come from. But alas, against all reason, this was a living baby that happened to share a ghost's DNA. Best to just rip off the bandage.
Edwin turned to Charles. "I'm afraid we'll have to say goodbye."
Charles' shoulders jumped upwards, as if Edwin had just dropped a snake between them. "What are you saying?"
Deep breath. This was the puppy argument all over again. Edwin tried to use his most soothing and careful tone. "I'm saying that we need to have Crystal or Niko turn him over to the living authorities. They'll be able to take him to an orphanage." Edwin suddenly felt his mouth go dry and he couldn't continue his explanation. His chest felt tight.
"No. No, no." Charles shook his head and held the baby closer to his chest, protective of him already. "He can't go to an orphanage. He'd be alone, Edwin. Or what if they give him to some horrible family that treats him badly? They might even send him off to boarding school someday..."
Edwin felt himself go pale with the thought of that but nonetheless he steeled his nerves. "What are you proposing then, Charles?"
"Why can't we look after him?"
"Would you like the list of reasons alphabetically or in ascending order of obviousness?"
Charles stared back at him defiantly even though a glossy shine of tears gathered at the bottoms of his eyes. "He's only a baby," he said plaintively, staring down at the tiny head.
Edwin could feel himself weakening. He hated saying no to Charles. He hated any form of pain he ever caused him and this felt like a big one. Even moreso than that and most concerningly, Edwin felt himself drawn to his replicate, drawn to look after a piece of himself--not even a piece, really. This was his whole self in a small bundle of living human.
Without meaning to, Edwin said, "Alright," and then Charles looked up at him, completely vulnerable, all his battlements stripped away. "We'll see about looking after him ourselves. But there are a lot of questions we need to be able to answer if we're going to do this."
Charles was smiling through tears now, rubbing his cheek against the baby's soft hair.
"This is the stupidest thing we've ever done," Edwin told him.
"Yep. And I voluntarily went into hell."