AN: Hello, it's been a while! If you're new to the Bat Boy fandom we do have an active tumblr page now over at holdyourbatboy dot tumblr dot com where we regularly update with the latest fandom news, contributions, and fan experiences. Any other links including a new deviantart page and links to specific fanworks are included there as well.
This fluffy little one-shot takes place a few months after the events of Hope Falls and was born out of a long-standing question: How on earth would Edgar and Shelley be able to deal with the awkwardness of their relationship if Edgar had survived? This is my interpretation of that answer. Enjoy.
Running
It had been two months since the night their lives changed forever. Shelley thought about it a lot. She knew Edgar did, too, although they never brought it up. She heard him, though, waking up screaming in the middle of the night in the next room over, startled awake by the same horrifying dreams they all endured. She saw it in the dark circles under his eyes, the sad smile he would force for her and Meredith to show that he was okay. None of them were okay, though.
They had got what they wanted – a remote place, the three-bedroom house they had talked about, the three of them together. But it wasn't at all what they had hoped for. Ever since Edgar and Meredith had recovered and come home from the hospital, Shelley knew it would never be the same. She had lost a father – his own self-inflicting wound to his neck too severe for the doctors to heal – she had lost her home, and she had lost the person most precious to her. Yes, Edgar had miraculously survived Hope Falls, but he would never be the same Edgar that had been so unceremoniously dumped on their doorstep so many months ago. He had seen cruelty, hatred, and death after being shown nothing but kindness and love. He had poured his heart and soul into finding a place to belong in the outside world and had been rejected for it. He had loved with reckless abandon and had been dealt a cruel hand in reward – a mother who had not loved him as unconditionally and genuinely as he loved her, and a sister who could not return the love he felt for her. He would never be the same – would never love the same – and they all knew it.
Not that Shelley had ever had an opportunity to talk to him about it. From the day they moved in, Edgar had spent the majority of his time avoiding both Shelley and Mrs. Parker. Immediately upon arriving, Meredith had surprised them all by asking Edgar if he would prefer to hunt for his own food rather than rely solely on the bags of blood Meredith planned to buy for him.
"We'll set animal traps around the house, of course," she had assured him, "I just can't promise that I'll be able to find you something to eat if I'm working." Edgar had, as Shelley knew he would, refused to let Mrs. Parker dirty her hands for his sake, saying that he would enjoy an opportunity to get out of the house. What they didn't plan for, however, was that Edgar would use this as his excuse to rarely come back to the house at all. He began to perfect the art of avoidance, sometimes going days without even saying hello to Shelley, always finding ways to be where she wasn't. Meredith had found a job in the next town fairly quickly and wasn't there to be bothered by Edgar's odd behavior. Shelley, however, felt a twinge of pain in her chest every time her mother left for work, knowing that she would be alone for the day once again, too late to register for summer school as she was already well into break.
In her loneliness, Shelley had become quite taken with nighttime. Late at night, when the house was dark and the only noises were the chirping crickets outside, she could lie in her bed and let her imagination roam. If she was lucky, fantasies would take the form of dreams, and she would spend the entire night dreaming about large, green eyes, warm breath tickling her nose as soft lips lowered to kiss her face, a sweet, innocent boy smiling dopily at her like the naïve child he was. But morning would come and Shelley knew that she would never see that innocent smile outside of her dreams again.
Shelley was lying restlessly awake in bed one night when a faint tapping sound from the downstairs kitchen reached her ears. She sat up, hesitating in indecision, then pulled the covers off before she had time to change her mind. Shelley crept quickly and quietly out of bed, opening her door ever so carefully as to avoid making the hinges creak and wake her mother. She tiptoed silently down the stairs, poking her head around the corner to peer into the kitchen. Sure enough, there he was.
"Hey," she whispered from the doorway, startling him. He stood staring outside the kitchen window, but when she spoke he turned away, his expression softening when he saw who it was, but only slightly.
"…Hey," he echoed back, his expression hardening just as soon as it had tempered.
"Couldn't sleep?" Shelley asked, remaining where she was leaned against the doorway, a safe and comfortable distance away. He shook his head slowly, averting his eyes to the floor.
"I've always felt the most awake at night," he responded quietly.
"That makes two of us," Shelley said without missing a beat, meeting his gaze with a small smile. Silence fell between them for a long while.
"I was, um. Just going to make myself some tea. To, you know. Help me sleep."
"Oh,"he said, "Well I'll…leave you to it, then. Goodnight." He turned quickly to walk out of the kitchen, but Shelley quickly stopped him.
"Edgar, wait. Can… you stay for a little bit? I'd really appreciate the company,"she said, looking imploringly at him. He always made an excuse. He always said no, yet there was sadness in his eyes as he looked at her, as if the thought of saying no one more time truly hurt him.
"…I'm rather tired, Shelley. I'd like to go back to bed, if you don't mind."
"Just until I'm done? I'm scared of the dark,"she lied, "Just wait to walk me back, please?" For a moment, Shelley was afraid he would see through the ruse, that he would make some excuse as he always did. But to her surprise he looked a little uncertain this time, truly debating the possibility that perhaps she wasn't lying, that perhaps she was afraid and that he was potentially leaving her alone in a frightening situation.
"…Okay." Shelley couldn't have hid her relief if she tried.
"I can make you a cup too if you want," Shelley offered as she opened the cupboard to retrieve two mugs without waiting for a response. Edgar stared at her with a peculiar expression, and for a moment Shelley had to wonder how comfortable he really was drinking in front of her. Shelley had never asked him, but she suspected he still felt some degree of shame about his unusual dietary needs. Nevertheless, his wanton gaze lingered on the cup in her hands for a moment longer than was necessary, a familiar look of hunger glinting in his eyes.
"I'll do it," he said with a shake of his head, going to the fridge to get the bags of blood Meredith bought from the butcher's every week. He worked with his back turned away from her, as if, even after all was said and done, he wanted to protect her from what he was. Shelley watched him, though, out of the corner of her eye, as he waited for the blood to warm in the microwave, stirring the thick, acrid liquid to make it as uncongealed as possible. It probably wouldn't do much, Shelley thought, but it must be better than doing nothing. She started a pot on the stove without asking him about it.
Despite the fact that only a few seconds had passed, Shelley decided she couldn't take the awkward silence, so she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Hey…what does blood taste like?" Edgar visibly stiffened when she spoke, keeping his back turned to her.
"This is hardly the sort of nighttime conversation to soothe your mind before bed, Shelley."
"Hey, seeing blood in a cup isn't the same as seeing it gushing from a stab wound." She said it in a teasing tone, but the implications were anything but humorous. She saw Edgar visibly tense under her curt response, and for a long while he did not know how to answer her. That night had been off-topic for weeks now, and he wasn't sure how to approach it yet.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, "That was a really dumb thing to say." A beat of silence passed between them, broken only by the chime of the microwave.
"No. Forgive me," he said, finally turning around to look at her, balancing his cup carefully in his hand, "You should not have to apologize. It is just I who needs to learn to be less sensitive." Shelley shook her head, looking down at her own mug.
"I like that you're sensitive…," she mumbled quietly, her mouth hiding behind the rim of her cup. She blew on it, pretending that it was still too hot to drink so she could have an excuse not start.
"And I like that you're kind," he countered with a gentle smile, "But even so, such talk seems unbecoming for this time of night, don't you think? I'd prefer not to talk about it." She took a seat at the dinner table while he continued to stand, looking uncertain as to whether he wanted to commit to conversation by sitting down with her. His eyes darted uncertainly from the door to her cup, impatient for her to be done so he could leave.
"Sorry,"she said apologetically, "I was just curious. I really don't mind talking about blood, though. It's not gross to me." Edgar kept his gaze on the floor, and Shelley knew he was keeping his thoughts to himself. She decided not to push him, though, surprised enough that she had gotten him alone to talk with her at all.
"So…I haven't seen much of you lately…How have you been?" she asked slowly, to fill the icy silence that laid between them.
"…Alright,"he responded dryly after a long pause.
"It must be nice being able to go out on your own now." He nodded, looking disdainfully at his cup. Shelley could tell he didn't like its contents. He had barely sipped it, and she was starting to wonder why he had even bothered making it, if the simple act of making it made him less motivated to actually drink it. As if he was second guessing whether he really needed it.
"I appreciate it more than words can express,"he answered without looking at her. This, Shelley knew.
"To be honest, I kind of appreciate it too," Shelley said, "It's a nice change to see you having more freedom than you did before. I really miss you and worry about you when you're out, but it's good that you have some time away from….I don't know…trying to be human all the time. No more walls or fences or neighbors watching. You can just be yourself."
"Yes, well…it's a good thing there are hardly any neighbors to scare away all the way out here," he said quietly. Shelley had nothing to say to say to this. It was true, although Shelley wished she could comfort him by assuring him it wasn't. Hope Falls was their proof that Edgar would have to be cautious when meeting new people from now on.
"Could I come with you sometime?" she suddenly asked. Edgar swallowed loudly, looking up at her in surprise.
"What? No. I could not guarantee your safety, Shelley. The woods are filled with creatures larger and more dangerous than my usual raccoons and squirrels."
"I know, but you'd be there," she replied matter-of-factly, "You'll protect me."
"Yes, but even if it were safe, all things considering…wouldn't it bother you…?" he asked. Shelley didn't hesitate.
"Of course not, it's you."
"But…you love animals."
"Well, I love you more,"she replied with a small, sad smile. The corners of his mouth twitched upward in a tiny smile, and Shelley felt a rush of affection sweep through her at the sight. She hadn't seen him even remotely happy in weeks. He didn't seem to know how to respond, feeling suddenly shy by her open honesty, maybe even a little uncomfortable.
"…I'm also just really bored here,"she added with a small laugh for his benefit, rescuing him from having to think of a way to answer her, "Spare me for a few hours, you're much more interesting than reruns of I Love Lucy, I promise." Edgar huffed quietly, a strange look passing over his face as he quickly looked back down.
"I'll… think about it."
"I still do want to know, by the way," she reminded him, "About what blood tastes like. It really isn't that gross to me." Edgar hesitated, not looking at her but looking slightly unsure this time, weighing the risks of bringing this topic up again.
"It's…not that exciting,"he said finally, shifting uncomfortably.
"Sure it is. I mean, every animal has got to taste different, right? Or are they all kind of the same?"
"They're… different,"he mumbled, still looking a little uncomfortable, "It depends on what they eat."
"Do you have a favorite?" Edgar hesitated, clearly uneasy.
"Well, um, yes. Ironically, it's always been….cattle."
"Shut up." Shelley couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped her throat, and soon enough she was hiding her face in her hands, she was laughing so hard. Edgar couldn't help but laugh with her, quietly at first, but then building up so that they both had to cover their mouths to stifle the noise and avoid waking Meredith. The sound of laughter was strange and foreign to them both, but it nonetheless ebbed some of the tension away.
"I miss being able to laugh like that," Shelley confessed when she had managed to calm herself down, "It's been way too long."
"I had never even known what laughter was before I was found and I miss it,"he said with a hand up to stifle the noise.
"Remember the first time you laughed? You freaked out so bad, it was so funny!"
"I thought I was dying. I panicked and ran to Mrs. Parker for help. I thought I had to be gravely ill for a noise to be able to come out of me like that."
"I didn't know whether I wanted to laugh at your reaction or cry because you had never laughed before then."
"Well, I had never had a reason to laugh before I met you." Shelley laughed uneasily for lack of a proper response, trying to ignore the slight flush rising to her cheeks as she spewed out a quick "Yeah right, you just don't remember," in a vain attempt to circumvent the ice that had suddenly frozen over between them with just that one, simple sentence. But no, of course Edgar hadn't had a reason to laugh before then, and her anxious denial of that fact only drew unnecessary attention to it. He forced a smile for her, but the laughter had inevitably already died by then.
She wished she didn't love him quite so much, she thought as she suddenly became acutely aware of both her reddening face and the fact that Edgar was able to see it in the dim overhead light. She wished she could ignore the familiar fluttering in her heart when he said nice things like that – so honestly and without reserve, still too naïve and unfamiliar with the human world to understand the art of subtly. She wished that the echoes of her need for him were simply that – echoes, and not a lasting, prolonged feeling of a tangible weight on her chest, reminding her that her feelings for him were still there, and likely always would be.
"Sorry,"she said finally, to acknowledge the silence, laughing anxiously as she ran her fingers over the rim of the mug, "Sometimes you're just way too endearing for your own good." Another stretch of silence fell between them, this one somehow even more uncomfortable than the last. Shelley had said it in a good-natured tone, but they both knew what she was implying.
"I'm sorry…again,"she said with a nervous laugh, "Maybe one of these days this'll be a little easier."
"Easier" was better said then done, though. It had been nearly two months. Two months since they had had anything to laugh about. Hope Falls was all Edgar had known of the human world, but Hope Falls had also been all Shelley knew of the world, too. Neither could boast that this transition was "easy."
"….That's what Mrs. Parker said,"Edgar finally said quietly in response, "She said we're all bound to feel hurt and sad and angry for a long time after everything that happened, but that if we wait long enough eventually we'll stop feeling those things." Shelley stared at him, trying to read his expression as he spoke.
"How's that going for you so far?"she asked. He shook his head, unable to speak.
"I…,"he tried, but his throat constricted, struck speechless with the sheer weight of her question.
"Hey." Shelley reached for his hand, but he immediately pulled it away, determined to remain as emotionally detached as possible to the person he was most emotionally attached to. After a moment he seemed to regain his composure. Shelley watched the emotions play over his face, unphased by the unsubtle rejection.
"Edgar, it'll come easier soon,"she said, slowly, "It will. The three of us are going to have so much fun this year, you'll see. We'll have snowball fights and paint Easter eggs and watch fireworks. We'll have reason to laugh again soon, it just takes…time."
"…How much time?"he said, shaking his head.
"I don't know. A long time, probably,"she said softly. Edgar looked away, all too aware that the weakness in his eyes was showing, and suddenly wanting nothing more than to run away from this conversation.
"I'll walk you back to your room now if you're finished,"he said a little curtly, standing to dump the rest of the contents of his mug into the sink. The blood landed with a loud sploosh, easily betraying how thick and congealed it really was. Shelley watched him as he immediately turned on the faucet, as if he could hide the evidence by simply washing his shame down the sink. He turned to her when he was done, his eyes tired and a little defeated as he stared imploringly at her, begging her to let him leave, to let him run away just once more.
"Edgar." She half expected him to bolt for the stairs when she stood up, crossing the short but indisputable distance between them. He stared at her, frigid, tense, yet still unwilling to hurt her feelings more than he had to by actually running away. Tentatively she reached out her hand to his, but he moved away, looking shamefully at the floor.
"Edgar," she said his name quietly, her breath catching in her throat. "I want to be able to talk to you. It doesn't have to be about this, or what happened, but I at least want to talk to you."
He averted his eyes the moment she began to speak, unable to look at her. Only after the silence became too unbearable did Edgar slowly shake his head.
"You don't want to talk, or you just don't want to talk to me?"she asked, "I miss you."
"I miss you, too,"he replied quietly.
"You really, really don't show it,"she said a little disdainfully, her voice soft but unaccusatory.
"I'm sorry,"he said, finally lifting his eyes to look at her, "I really am. I'm not good at…pretending. I can't just turn off my feelings like a light switch and act like I don't still feel how I do for you after everything that happened. If anything, my feelings for you only grow stronger every day. Being around you hurts. And I'm already hurting enough as it is.
"I'm hurting, too, Edgar, but that's why we have each other – to help us get through this,"she said quietly.
"Edgar, that's ridiculous," Shelley retaliated without missing a beat, "Animals have feelings too. You're not emotionally crippled - you're just learning and experiencing stuff for the first time. It's not like anybody expects you to just magically know exactly what to think and feel after all this – heaven knows I don't have my crap together any more than you do. I just…Gah, Edgar, it's like you're not even trying! Mom and I are right here, and we want so badly to help you, and when you run off and ignore me all the time it's like you're just absolutely determined not to be helped."
"You're right. Because I don't."
"What? Do you realize how crazy that sounds?"
"Shelley…,"he said slowly, turning his head away from her so that he wouldn't have to look at her as he said it, "I don't think you quite realize how much I absolutely despise myself." Her breath caught in her throat, holding her words down.
"…So…what?"she asked quietly when she finally managed to find her voice again, "You don't think you deserve my help?" He didn't say anything, but his silence was answer enough.
"Edgar, I don't think of it like that,"she finally said slowly after a long moment, "Help isn't something you earn. Even if it was, that wouldn't matter to me. I want to help you…"
"You helping me has done nothing but hurt you," he said with a shake of his head, "I have no right to be a burden on this family any more."
"You've got it all wrong, Edgar – you've never been a burden. If anything, you've made my life better just by being here. I'm happy when I'm with you."
"Don't martyr me, Shelley,"he said with a disdainful look, "I ruined everything. That town, Mr. and Mrs. Parker, even you – none of you would even be here if it weren't for me, and you would be safe and happy back in Hope Falls if I had just died there that night. I wish I had died there that night."
"Don't say things like that."
"Then I wish I had never been born,"he amended, as if that was any better. Shelley held her breath, collecting her thoughts before she spoke.
"Edgar, first of all, that town was crazy and we all know it – I'm still happy we left and it was no sacrifice on my part,"she said finally, "Secondly, you didn't force anyone anywhere – Mom and I decided that for ourselves way before any of this happened. You're here because we want you to be. You were part of our family even before all of this. So don't be upset over things like that, because they're not your fault."
"Nothing you can say can make this any less my fault,"he said quietly to the floor, "I can't let you get hurt again because of me."
"I don't think I'm the one who's afraid of getting hurt here, though,"she interjected, gently tipping his chin up to force him to look at her, "We both know you're not saying all this for my benefit; you're trying to push me away so you won't get hurt. I get that you're trying to protect yourself, Edgar, really, I do. I just don't get why you feel the need to protect yourself from me, of all people. I'm on your team. I thought you knew that." Edgar deliberately looked away, his expression stony.
"It's not that one-sided, Shelley,"he softly disagreed, "People died because of me. I almost died. I can't do that again, especially not to you. I have to protect you from me just as I have to protect myself from you."
"I don't want to be protected from you…"she said slowly, "I want to talk and laugh and be with you. Together. Do you…not want the same?"
"I can't want the same,"he countered, "It's irresponsible of me just to be near you."
"That's not what I asked,"she interjected, taking a breath to steady herself, "Edgar, do you even miss me? Do you even think about me when you're gone all the time?"
"Why would you even need to ask that?"
"Because I honestly have to wonder with the way you act!"she said, her voice rising, "Because you said you loved me and this is the first time we've talked in weeks! Because I'm hurting too and you're too busy throwing your pity party to care!"
"Shelley, I killed your father."
"That was an acci" -
- "No it wasn't." Shelley blinked slowly, feeling a hard lump forming in her throat as she watched Edgar's face, the sudden moisture in his eyes betrayed by the reflection of the dim kitchen light. She didn't know why, but the sight made her heart drop like lead. Suddenly she knew he meant it.
"…Shelley, I took your family from you,"he began slowly, his voice unsteady but his gaze nevertheless unwavering, "I spent so much time and energy dreaming of having a family of my own, and instead I took yours. Of all people, I hurt you the most. And at the end of the day, it doesn't matter how sorry I am or how much I hate myself for it, it won't bring him back for you. I don't know how you can stand looking at me, you must hate me so much. I can't even promise to protect you from further tragedy. Heaven knows I'd do it again if I was hungry enough. I can't control this, Shelley, and I hate myself for it. It could be Mrs. Parker next time, or even you. I couldn't live with that kind of guilt - I can barely live with the guilt I have now. I already want to die, if I lost you, that would be it for me."
Shelley didn't realize she had been holding her breath until the tightness in her chest was suffocating. The silence in the room was thick and impossibly heavy, and Shelley had the distinct impression that right now Edgar needed her honesty more than anything. Clenching her hands into fists and sucking in a deep breath, she quietly gathered up her courage and said the first thing she knew to be absolutely true above all else.
"I could never, ever hate you, Edgar,"Shelley finally said, her voice quiet but firm.
For a moment the only sound that could be heard was the dripping water from the kitchen sink, every thump pounding in time with her heartbeat.
"…I don't really know what to say,"Shelley finally said, raising her eyes to look at him, "…Except that I love you regardless... And I don't blame you for what happened…. I never had. I forgive you for what you did to Dad and I forgive you for whatever you may do in the future. I'm sad that you have to deal with so much guilt, but I'm not…angry or resentful that being yourself may hurt people." The first of Edgar's tears patted gently on the floor.
"Why?"he asked slowly. Shelley thought a moment.
"I don't know, to be honest. What's that saying about how love is accepting someone's weaknesses to a fault? I think it's something like that." Edgar shook his head, eyes glistening as he sucked in a breath to steady himself.
"That doesn't make any sense."
"No, I guess not,"Shelley said with a weak smile. Edgar shook his head, looking frantic.
"Shelley, did you hear me? This wasn't an isolated incident – this could happen again. I could kill you.
"I seriously doubt that, Edgar."
"Well I'm not sticking around long enough to find out if I will. I can't hurt you, Shelley. I won't."
"Well I don't know what to tell you, Edgar, because that ship set sail weeks ago when we moved in and you decided you didn't want anything to do with me anymore," she countered, looking directly at him, "I don't want to hurt you either, but you know what? I could anyway, and I probably will. There are just as many ways that I could potentially hurt you as you can hurt me. Don't think I don't realize how fragile you feel right now, Edgar, because I do, and if I wanted to, I could take advantage of it. But I would never do that, because I would never deliberately hurt you, just as I know you would never deliberately hurt me. Or Dad. Or anybody. I'm not afraid of accidents, Edgar, I'm afraid of you hurting me on purpose."
Now it was Edgar's turn to not know what to say. Her voice was laced with frustrated accusation, and he didn't miss it. His eyes were wide and searching as he tried to process this, tried to find the words to articulate everything he wanted to say in that moment.
"….I'm sorry,"was all that came out instead. Shelley held her breath. Somewhere inside her, a tight knot unloosed itself and allowed her to breathe again.
"…I'm sorry, too,"she said after a long moment, "You deserved more credit than I was giving you. Here I was thinking you were being distant because you didn't care and you were just trying to figure out how to be."
Silence fell between them for a while. Then, soft, familiar hands tentatively reached for his, and though he still shied away from the contact, he did not pull away. He let out a soft breath, staring down at their hands, fingers just barely touching each other's, both still wary of their boundaries.
"Edgar…,"Shelley started quietly, looking up from their hands to meet his eyes, "Whatever delusion you have that you're helping me by not being helped – all it's doing is making us both feel more alone than we already are. I still want to be with you….in whatever way I can. I miss what we had, but I miss you more. I just…want to be your friend again. Is that so bad?" Edgar hesitated before he spoke.
"I don't know what I would hate myself more for,"he said quietly to himself, "Allowing myself your company and accidentally hurting you or keeping my distance and hurting you regardless."
"You shouldn't hate yourself for either. I'm not angry or bitter, I'm just…sad.,"Shelley said quietly, "For Dad, for you, for everything. You don't have to hate yourself for it; heaven knows I don't. I know you said being around me hurts, but not being around you hurts me, too. It's going to hurt either way, I just…would rather not have to do it alone. I'll understand if you want to be done with me. Just…please tell me first, so I don't keep getting my hopes up. I'm…tired of always looking for you in the woods and always coming back disappointed."
He looked up at her, a strange expression passing his face.
"You look for me in the woods?"
"You didn't know that?"Shelley asked, "Of course I look for you. I miss you. Like – really miss you. I mean, I still miss you, but…" Her words fell, unable to come out. Edgar stared at her, feeling his heart swell with familiar warmth and yet clench with an aching sadness knowing that he had caused her to feel this way.
"…I didn't know,"he finally said, "I always felt like there was someone watching me, but I always thought it was my imagination."
"Well, now you know,"she said, looking at the floor, "I even started trying to teach myself how to make animal traps. Granted, they suck, but I figured at some point I'd learn how to catch something for you, so you wouldn't have to be gone all the time." Edgar fell silent, unable to think of anything to say. Shelley waited patiently, both staring hard at each other as the silence stretched between them. Finally Edgar spoke.
"…Do you remember sometimes hearing noises outside your room?"he asked.
"Some nights, yeah."
"I have nightmares. You…probably knew that already. Usually I can go back to sleep, but…sometimes I get up and sleep outside your door. I feel safer being close to you." Shelley couldn't help but laugh, fighting the sudden emotion swelling in her throat.
"Idiot, you can always just come in,"she said with a strained smile. He shrugged sheepishly.
"I don't want to wake you up,"he replied, a little shyly. Shelley shook her head, her face flushing as she looked embarrassedly down at her feet.
"Yeah, well… Remember the note my mom left saying that you shouldn't go out that day because the ground was too damp and there could be sinkholes?"
"Yes?"
"This is kind of embarrassing, but…,"Shelley said, flushing, "I was the one who wrote the note. It hadn't even rained that night – I got up early and flooded the yard so you'd think it wasn't safe to go outside. And you left anyway."
"I didn't. I, um…well…Would you find me odd if I told you I sometimes wouldn't go to the woods at all?"he asked slowly, forcing her to look up in surprise, "I'd climb on the roof and watch you from the top window. Or I'd follow you when you took walks outside. I wanted to make sure you were safe. I didn't like leaving you home alone, especially in such a strange, new place. I don't even know what a sinkhole is – I stayed that day so I could make sure you were safe from it, too, whatever it is."
"You…you did?" Shelley gaped at him, her mouth hung slightly open.
"I'm sorry if that's….what's the word? Creepy?"he said, looking unsure of himself, "I probably shouldn't have told you that…" Shelley shook her head, tears burning behind her eyes that were quickly threatening to fall. Her tears surprised even her – she hadn't quite expected all the mounted loneliness, sadness and frustration of the last few weeks to hit her quite so suddenly. They stood facing each other in the dim light of the kitchen, both quietly acknowledging the distance between them that suddenly didn't feel so distant after all.
A calloused hand suddenly touched her face, and when she looked up she felt Edgar gingerly wiping her tears away, a sad, apologetic look on his face, silently voicing the apology that neither needed to hear to understand. A beat of indecision passed before he slowly opened his arms to her and allowed her to fill the space between them, her arms wrapping themselves tightly around his waist and pulling him close. His arms felt wonderfully familiar to her, and for the first time in weeks she finally felt at home in this strange, new place.
"You were here the whole time," Shelley said softly into his shoulder
"Of course I was." Only when Shelley felt his arms hesitantly come around her to return the embrace did she release the breath she had been holding. After a moment she felt him relax as well, his nose pressed lightly against her shoulder.
"This is a lot harder than I thought it would be, Edgar,"she whispered, so soft only he could hear her.
"I know,"he agreed softly, closing his eyes.
"You know we could always just say screw it and run away to Alabama,"she mumbled into his shoulder, "I hear they tolerate that kind of thing there." He said nothing, just stood there and held her, his cheek pressed serenely against hers.
"Our kids would already be a quarter-bat, having eleven toes would be the least of their problems." He did react then, his body stiffening as his hands came to rest on her shoulders.
"That's not funny, Shelley."
"I know,"she said, hiding her face in his collarbone, "I'm sorry." He had nothing to say to this, so he just held her, unwilling to let her go again when they both knew how rare these moments were and would be. Shelley closed her eyes and concentrated on memorizing this feeling, safe from the world in Edgar's arms and feeling her heart nearly burst with love knowing that he was finally safe here in hers as well.
"I love you, Edgar,"she whispered quietly into his nightshirt, her soft confession eliciting two small tears that immediately bled into the fabric. He responded by slowly leaning away from her so he could look her in the eyes, then gingerly brushed his fingers over her cheek and leaned in to press his lips to her forehead. Shelley felt her hands tighten around his shirt.
"Please say it,"she said, looking up to him, "So I don't doubt myself if you run away from me again."
"I won't run away."
"Say it anyway. Please." He leaned in until their foreheads touched, staring at her with large, sad eyes.
"I love you."
She felt her throat tighten around her next words, unable to speak. He acknowledged her silence with a small kiss on her nose.
"You can come with me next time if you really want to,"he whispered to her.
"Really?" Her relief came out like a gasp, bringing a fresh wave of tears to her eyes.
"Yes, love."
"Promise?"
"I promise." Her arms tightened around him, her nose pressed into his shoulder.
"Does it…hurt…being like this?"she asked tentatively. He hesitated.
"Not as much as I thought it would,"he finally said.
"Me neither," she answered quietly, "Edgar?"
"Mmh?"
"Can I tell you something? Something that's been bothering me ever since Mom told us what happened?"
"Yes." His thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles.
"Even when I was little, I always had the sense that there was something missing in our family. Like someone was missing. Even knowing that, though, I still can't think of you as my brother…Maybe I never will. You are and always will be one thing, though, and that's my best friend."
"…I am?"
"Of course you are,"she assured him, smiling weakly, "I don't know, maybe it's a selfish way to think, but I guess it just makes me feel a lot less bad about myself if I can accept I still have feelings for a best friend instead of a brother. Maybe it would make being together less painful for you, if you wanted to think of it that way." Edgar stared down at their folded hands, considering this.
"…You were my first, friend, Shelley. I don't think I'd know how to be a best friend that much more than I'd know how to be a brother,"he finally said, looking uncertain of himself.
"Well, for a first friend, you were pretty good at it,"she said with an encouraging smile.
"How can I be a friend if I don't even know how to be? I'm so bad at being human. And truth be told, I don't know if I even want to be human anymore."
"I never said I wanted you to be human,"Shelley answered with a shake of her head, "I just want you to be yourself. Drink blood, hang upside down, hide out in dark corners…I don't know, what else do bats like to do?"she laughed at her own naivety, forcing a small smile to appear on Edgar's lips, "I just want you to be happy, Edgar. Heaven knows you deserve to be."
"How can I deserve to be happy after everything I've done? Everything I could potentially do?"he said slowly, shaking his head, "Shelley, my presence will arouse suspicion to everyone I encounter for the rest of my life, and you will always be the one to take the blame for it if I stay with you. I don't want to hurt you anymore, but…I can't help think I'm not worth the trouble it's brought you." Shelley responded by throwing her arms around him.
"Of course you are." His next self-depreciating comment withered and died in his mouth as Shelley's warmth filled him, safe and kind and home. With a shuddering exhale he let himself sink into her embrace without inhibition this time.
"I don't understand what you see in me," he whispered quietly in her hair, "…What am I supposed to do now?" Shelley thought for a moment.
"You let Mom and I take care of you until you can stand on your own. You move on from whatever needs to be left behind and learn from whatever mistakes you can. And if you get overwhelmed and can't figure it out, you come back home and I'll remind you that you're loved and wanted regardless." Edgar held his breath, pulling her tighter against him.
"What can I do for you in return?" Shelley paused, thinking carefully.
"I'll think of them on the way, but…I might need reminders, too,"she finally said.
"Okay."
"And just…wherever you go…promise you'll come back?" He closed his eyes.
"I promise."
They stayed like that for a while, the room so quiet they could hear each other's breathing. The last time Shelley had held him like this was to express a form of love she was no longer qualified to give. The thought didn't make her sad, though. Because as she laid her head on his shoulder and listened to the sound of a wonderfully familiar heartbeat, she knew: there was still love there. It wasn't a brotherly love or a romantic love, but it was love nonetheless, and though it may take them a long time to put a name to it and define what exactly "they" were, that love was real and it was there, and for the time being, that was enough.
"Edgar?"
"Mmh?"
"You didn't come down here because you were hungry, did you?" Reluctantly, he released her from his embrace to look at her. Slowly, he shook his head.
"…You know, there's a rod in my closet you're more than welcome to hang from, if you want. I mean….if that'll help with the nightmares,"she said shyly, glancing up at him, "Or we can always make a pillow fort and have a sleepover on my bedroom floor like we used to do." Edgar let out a soft laugh, his heart swelling with emotion as he reached out for her hands, no longer afraid of the contact as he gently squeezed her fingers.
"A pillow fort sounds wonderful."
And it was that night, amid a pile of blankets and pillows on Shelley's bedroom floor, with the sound of Shelley's light breathing lulling him to sleep as she reached out in her sleep to touch his hand, that Edgar had his first dreamless sleep in weeks.