Title: The Write Words

Fandom: Pushing Daisies

Pairing: Ned/Chuck

Summary: Ned's side of the story. Takes place smack dab in the middle of "Corpsicle

Disclaimer: I only own these characters in my thoroughly romantic, yet twisted imagination

Just minutes ago, as Ned ransacked the apartment looking for a piece of a paper and a pen, writing a letter seemed like a great idea. Now he stared at the blank, meaningless paper, feeling just as blank and void of meaning.

What could he write that would make Chuck forgive him? He'd never been good at finding the right words. He remembered almost failing 10th grade English because he had to write a report on "Romeo and Juliet," and—no surprise—he couldn't get it right. What was the use anyway? his 16-year-old self had reasoned. No one ever really feels that kind of passion.

Yet here he was, experiencing that exact same overwhelming, all encompassing longing. The kind that made it difficult for him to think. To breathe. To envision life without her.

This time he had to come up with the right words. He had to.

Dear Chuck,

I don't know where you are and I've looked everywhere I could think of. Last night is like a bad dream that keeps playing in my head over and over. You were right to be angry. I don't know why I blurted it out like that, about your dad and about what I did.

You don't know how many times I've almost told you. Then you'd look at me and give me a smile—you know the one—and I'd lose my train of thought.

I remember the day it happened. We had crushed an entire clay village and conquered the world. Right then, I knew I'd never have a better or closer friend. I vowed I would never, ever let anyone hurt you. Then I turned out to the person who did exactly that.

I liked your dad. He made me feel like I could come to your house any time, so I did. Sometimes he'd squeeze my shoulder, as if he was proud of me, and I couldn't help wishing my dad acted more like him. I could see why you loved him so much.

Then my mom died, Chuck, just dropped to the floor and didn't move. I had to do something. I couldn't let her be dead. She was the only person who really loved me, except for you. Even then I knew that. So I touched her like I'd touched Digby and suddenly everything was all right again. She didn't even remember being dead.

When your dad died, I didn't know if it had something to do with my bringing Mom back. No, that's not really true. I was pretty sure I had traded my mom for your dad. At first I didn't want to think about it and then I couldn't think of anything else. I hated seeing you cry. I'd have done anything to stop you from being sad—except give back my mom. I hate that I was so selfish.

If only I had known my mom couldn't touch me again—at least she'd still be alive. After all that, I'd lost my mom anyway and now you didn't have a dad. That night, even though I knew I was too big to cry, I did. Not just because I missed her but because I had also hurt you. I was only 9 years old and already a murderer. Dad was right to send me away and never look at me again.

I know my childhood would have turned out the same, whether or not I had this "gift." (And why does everyone call it that? It's been a curse, except for one time.) Mom would have died anyway and I'd still have gone to boarding school. But you—you could have had a normal life if I hadn't done what I did. If you'd never lived next door or known me.

That's why I never came back to see you. I thought if I stayed away, you would be safer. At least, safe from me.

When I touched you in the funeral parlor, I thought that somehow fate had come up with a way for me to make it up to you. But as we spent more time together, I realized you were becoming my reason for getting up in the morning, for living each day—and I couldn't lie to you anymore. I could only hope you wouldn't hate me——

Ned felt his hand form a fist as he crumpled the paper into a ball. If only he could throw his heart in the trash along with his lame letter. Anything to stop the ache, this feeling of dying a little more with each moment she was gone.

He would come up with another way, a better way, to ask for her forgiveness. Until then, maybe working at the Pie Hole would take his mind off her for a little while. Olive would be coming to work in an hour and she might know where Chuck was…