Chapter title: from the deepest chest.
Latin is my PASSION!
Love.
Charlie realized that the feeling which had begun to plague him recently was love. Not love towards friends and family. Warm, affectionate, tender love. The type poets wrote about to make sense of their emotions when they had fallen head over heels for someone. One could only wonder how'd they write if they knew that someone was unattainable.
A mirage that surrounded them every day, always less than an arm's length away, always there, always attentive. Amusingly airheaded, adoringly silly, endearingly childish. A bundle of energy and cat mannerisms. Charlie didn't have one artistic bone in his body, so writing down what he felt was out of the question. Instead, he bit the bullet and let it simmer inside without an outlet, almost boiling over at times to the point where it ached.
It put Menat's calming presence into a new context with that realization, something he wasn't quite fond of. It made sleeping next to her harder for one. It made his hairs stand on end when she touched him. Maybe it was what caused him to feel so much at ease near her at first. Like a calm before the unrequited feelings storm.
Dammit.
Of all the emotions he could be feeling towards someone like her, Charlie just had to feel love. Infatuation towards her, fueling that silly imagination – wish rather – that she'd reciprocate. But how could she? He was dead for heaven's sake. A walking corpse. She deserved better. She deserved someone alive. She didn't need to know his feelings anyway. She wouldn't. Things, despite being locked in infinite ephemera, would remain the same.
Just a little longer.
Besides didn't Menat get asked out by some rich Spaniard a week ago? Whatever happened to him? Why did that seem to strike a familiar note in Charlie? Why was he thinking of a mask and claws? Probably someone from his old life. Though obviously not close enough for a name. Oh well, if that elusive wealthy Spaniard could make Menat happy, it didn't matter anyway.
Even if that thought was incredibly bitter for Charlie to stomach.
He'd rather take the splash of water thrown into his face that brought him back to the present with Rose standing in front of him with an empty glass and smugly pursed lips. Charlie didn't know if he should be pissed at this but instead chose to settle for utterly confused as he took his dripping glasses off while Rose folded her arms over her chest.
"Glad you could join us. As I was saying, I need you to travel with the old married couple to a new winery out of town and get me some bottles," she and gave him a list of bottles with fancy, pretentious names. Including the address of this new winery.
He felt particularly snarky upon reading the note, recalling some of them locked away in the wine cellar, staring at her as he asked; "…Did you already drink the ones you had, Rose?"
"What? No, don't be silly!" she glared at him, folding her arms over her chest as she continued, "The Divination Association has asked me to host a gala here in two days and I need a bunch of cheap wine but not so cheap that it tastes like gunk. People can tolerate middle-of-the-road wine more easily if it comes directly from a winery."
How quaint. An entire association dedicated to divination of all things. Though during his time here, Charlie was hardly surprised. For better and for worse, divination was not just about predicting the future via cards and crystal balls but reading signs in everything from arrows to the stars.
For better and for worse, he now knew what cephalomancy was although he couldn't dream of trying it himself. Compared to everything else he learned; he'd wager the Palace of Mystery was the most believable introduction to Divination. He'd probably leave if they started using human entrails.
With a faint sigh, Charlie headed upstairs to dry his face and glasses before coming back down, spotting Menat and Maggio standing by the exit to the building, ready to go and everything. As Charlie joined them and got his face caked in makeup by Menat, he had a strange inkling running up and down his body.
Probably because he was going somewhere new.
It was not the first time, he had been tasked to hunt for wine bottles but it was usually on that tiny island, (to which he had no idea of how he came in the first place before he met Menat). To go someplace new was mildly-anxiety inducing.
Suppose this winery's product tasted like used mouthwash. Since Charlie had always hated the taste of the wine, he had no frame of reference for the flavor profile, nor did he particularly care. For now, he just let himself get dragged outside, thinking of how he was to curb the inevitable arguments between the two apprentices.
As it turned out, this other winery was in a small village, located an hour away via bus and trekking down an unpaved road. It reminded Charlie of the landscape surrounding his old cave. No doubt, that was now taken over by animals. As for the winery, it was a modest estate located in the countryside, surrounded by peaceful surroundings.
Thankfully, that sense of serenity extended to the area itself as it was relatively empty at this time of day with the trio and the operator being present.
For a place like this, it looked like Charlie imagined it would; fields upon fields with grape trees, hundreds of barrels with pressed juice, trucks driving back and forth with bottles to be sold elsewhere. This was a winery all right; one that reeked to high heaven of grape juice.
Unlike Charlie, both Menat and Maggio were seemingly used to it, picking up and stashing several bottles in satchels while discussing the receipt they would take back to Rose with the operator. Behind him, an assistant was busy with tapping barrels, filling bottles, and sticking labels onto them.
With the sun beaming down on them, Charlie moved away from the duo, taking solace in the shade of a nearby tree. From where he stood, he could get a wider look at the storage, the barrels, and accompanying fields.
He started counting the seconds until it was over when something by the corner of the building caught his attention; a blond woman standing alone, watching, just watching. Occasionally taking notes as well. Disturbingly familiar, conspicuous.
And then it hit him.
It wasn't the same blonde, Menat stumbled into once, but Charlie wished it was. His intuition proved correct when he slipped away from the shadow of the tree like a phantom, around the corner, seeing the woman disappear into a row of grape trees where he followed her. By its end, he saw her, holding a bottle of her own.
Her stare was cold when it gazed upon him like it had done many times before. She didn't smile, simply putting down the wine next to her as she put her hands on her hips, "Long time no see, Nash. Alive and well…surprisingly."
The same indeterminable accent, the same passive-aggressive jabs. It was her, no doubt about it. One of these days, Charlie would have to ask Rose what was up with this place where old faces kept popping up. So far, it had been a blessing and a curse.
"…Why are you here?" he asked, souring when she snorted.
"What does it look like? I'm buying wine but I am curious to see what has become of my…doll and why…it is here. Why don't we have a talk? Starting with that disguise."
Under no circumstances. Charlie felt every fiber of his body tighten. Anger boiled inside of him, that same anger he felt when Helen – Kolin – whatever threw his feelings into his face, despite her being at fault. Why did she care? He was just a puppet to be used for her and her goons.
"I have nothing to say to you," Charlie drawled, feeling the tension spike with the blasted smirk that cracked over her face.
Around them, voices spoke with one calling out; "Charlie? Hello? Where'd you go?"
Dammit. A lot needed to be explained if Menat found him with Kolin, who simply chuckled with scorn. "How nice. You've gotten friends. Introduce me to them, why don't you? Seems you have plenty of time before the end."
The urge to leap over and strike her mouth shut felt almost overwhelming. Calm, he needed to be calm lest he turned into the mess of anger and revenge, he was before. He had to remind himself of the people on the other side – those who, despite everything, cared for him.
And he cared about them. Kolin was a bitch whose presence could only promise horrible things happening. No way in hell, she was just here at this time buying wine. But he didn't need to succumb to her.
"Found you!" Menat said from ground level. Charlie flashed a glance at her and saw her crouched underneath clusters of grapes, only to crabwalk under them until she reached him. She stood up, dusting her hands clean as she lay eyes on Kolin.
"Uhm…" she began, and Charlie felt the overwhelming urge to take her by the hand and run. That extended to Maggio as he arrived under clusters of grapes, though quieter than Menat. A dark look came over Kolin's eyes as she saw the apprentices. It was a horrible thing to witness.
"Oh my. I wonder if they know the truth. About the fact that you're-"
Before she could finish those words, Charlie's calm slipped and he went for the attack, zooming past the apprentices. It was a good thing, his combat training never quite left him and he conjured up a Sonic Boom that cut through the wall of ice, Kolin conjured. She stepped back, shooting more spears of ice that he narrowly avoided.
A scream hollered behind him, belonging to Maggio rang out across the field, being the one distraction of Charlie's bloody goal. For a moment, he feared the worst, hardly noticing Kolin's counter.
The sudden stiletto kick to the side of his gut was a heavy hit, making him lose his footing, crashing, and tumbling into several trees, tangling with wires, grass, and grapes. Shifting shades of light and dark flashed before his eyes as he closed them to avoid dirt. In the chaos, he managed to clasp a hand around Kolin's ankle, dragging her along before they hit the ground.
She jerked, spitting foreign curses until he pinned her under him. He put all his weight on the hand that clasped around her throat while the other was raised high above her face, about to beat it in.
The anger within surged like an active powerline. Everything he tried to keep suppressed, surfaced and he descended into a long-forgotten rage, only tempered by a desperate Menat calling him back from the deep.
"Charlie, watch out!" her voice was shrill, cutting out all noises sans the blood pounding in his ears. Kolin continued to writhe, one hand clawing at his, the other reaching out and flailing about.
"Above you, dude!" Maggio called out, just as a hail of icy splinters was about to come over them. Quickly, Charlie moved away, grabbing the two by the arm and yanking them out of range from the icicles.
Not entirely.
One managed to slice the side of his gut and he gritted his teeth as the trio was about to find solace in another row of grape trees. Maggio took one of his wine bottles and flung it at Kolin and she smashed it with ice, only to be drenched in wine.
The moment she was distracted, Maggio dragged them to run and so they did, sprinting past the rows of grapefruit trees. On the way, they dropped more wine bottles to lessen the load. Away from the winery, away from the main road, into the sunbaked fields and their tall grass. Running until they couldn't run anymore, until their legs were ready to buckle and collapse under them.
Charlie's lungs felt as if they were about to crumble as he lay in the grass, surrounded by heavy, hot air from the choking stench of greenery. The blood continued to pound in his ears, drowning out the sounds of his heavy breathing.
This was not quite what he had imagined when Rose asked him to go to that stupid winery.
His wound began to sting but he determined that it wasn't a deep cut. A few bandages should do the trick. Despite being…well, being a zombie essentially, his wounds did still heal.
It was not until Charlie opened his eyes again that he saw, to his horror, that he wasn't the only one wounded. An icicle sat embedded in Menat's arm and a dark spot was growing around it while blood dropped onto the strains of grass. Her breath hitched as she stared it down.
Her fingers trembled when she tried to pull it out herself. Eventually, Maggio went to help, pulling it out and tossing the bloodied icicle somewhere in the field before he angrily turned to Charlie.
"Who the fuck was that, huh?!" he shouted so loudly, his voice echoed over the field. His face turned as red as his hair. Charlie didn't answer him at first, struggling against his thoughts that pulled him in two different directions. He climbed to his feet, feeling the fatigue rake through his body.
"…No one. I just need to find her again and end her," he said, the anger from her actions still bubbling within. He probably wouldn't live to the end of that battle and he sure as hell didn't want to drag them into the mess that was his past. He had to face this alone in case Kolin came for them again.
"Charlie, curses. Don't…" he heard Menat plead. Uncharacteristically vulnerable.
When he looked at her, he saw her eyes glistening, threatening tears. She so rarely cried; a sign of it made Charlie uncomfortably aware of another person's emotional weakness. It was because he didn't like seeing her of all people upset. And certainly not because of him.
With the arm that was unhurt, she reached out to grab him by the wrist. Her expression cracked as she let go, wiping the tears that coursed down her face with such force and frustration away. And he should do something other than gawk at it.
"Are you crying for me?" he asked and wished he could kick himself in the gut for that. Of all the things he could say, he just had to put his foot in his mouth.
"You're our friend, dummy. Of course, I do," she tried to smile but it just morphed into a rueful grimace. She winced when she moved her wounded arm too much. No doubt half the reason behind her tears.
"…Friend…" Charlie mused.
She nodded.
Fuck. He lost himself. The realization was a humbling, sobering feeling.
"Yeah, we love you, man but fucking hell, you got weird ex-girlfriends. Promise you won't pick a fight with her," Maggio chimed in while he ran a hand through his hair, sweat glistening over his forehead. Charlie could almost have laughed at the ''ex-girlfriend'' part as the young man continued, "But before all that, we got a bus to catch."
By afternoon, they were finally back at the Palace of Mysteries; bloodied, sweaty, and sullen. And only in possession of one bottle and a receipt for more. The look on Rose's face when she lay eyes on the trio was quite telling and Charlie was more than thankful that she didn't make a big song and dance about it.
"I take it something happened." She said.
"Ran into someone…I hoped not to meet again," Charlie took a deep breath and left it at that.
His thoughts were already a flurry, mildly tempered by distance. Deep down, there was a part of him still disturbed by his loss of temperament and the thought of a suicide mission lingering in his mind.
From the corner of his eyes, he watched as the apprentices made their way upstairs. Rose didn't try to stop them, understanding enough to let them rest up and recover from the incident. They didn't need to be reprimanded for Charlie's actions.
"And it didn't end quite well. That's alright. You go and rest up. I'll get some cheap wine from the store after all," Rose took the singular bottle of wine and the receipt, looking it over with a ponderous look on her face.
Charlie left her alone after that, descending into the basement where he collapsed onto the mattress, the exhaustion catching up to him with a vengeance.