Archive of Our Own ^beta

When they were sitting next to each other on the plane back to England, Nick’s thoughts wandered back to the stranger that had called Charlie “Carlo”. 

“Who is this?” he had asked in his heavily accented English.

“Nick”, Charlie had replied without looking up. “I have to leave.”

The stranger had asked something in Italian. Charlie had only shaken his head, locking eyes with Nick.

The stranger had left without a word.

Nick just had to know.

“Are you with him now?”

Charlie didn’t look up. “No”, he said simply.

They didn’t talk for the rest of the flight.

When they made their way out of the airport, Charlie spotted Tara, waving at them. His eyes filled with tears and he noticed that hers did as well. She rushed towards them and pulled Charlie into a long, warm embrace. “I missed you”, she whispered through her tears.

“I missed you, too. So much!” Charlie replied, crying.

Nick’s heart ached as he witnessed the reunion.

Tara drove them to the hospital. They were silent on the way there, Tara and Charlie exchanging warm glances now and then, Tara reaching over the console to give Charlie’s hand a squeeze, filled with emotion and encouragement.

Nick felt misplaced.

When they were standing side by side in front of the hospital room, Charlie could hear Nick’s heavy breathing. A part of him wanted to reach out to take his hand, but he didn’t.

He didn’t have the right.

He lost that a long time ago.

He threw it away.

His thoughts returned to the present, focussing on what lay ahead. In a few moments he would come face to face with the woman that had been more a mother to him than his own had ever been. And whose trust he had so utterly betrayed.

“Mum wants to see you. She’s – she’s ill.”

“Will she be okay?

“I don’t know. It’s bad.”

“Doesn’t she hate me?”

Both men knew that this question wasn’t just about Sarah.

Nick looked up from his coffee and locked eyes with Charlie. “I don’t know.”

When Charlie saw Sarah in the hospital bed, his heart sank.

It was bad.

“Darling!” Sarah exclaimed weakly, holding out her hands towards Charlie, trying to sit up in her bed.

“Wait, let me help you!” Nick rushed to her side and helped her into a sitting position, rearranging the cushions at her back so they would properly support her.

Charlie didn’t think she would be able to do that on her own.

As he saw the tenderness with which Nick was attending to his mum his heart warmed, even as it was breaking.

Sarah stroked Nick’s cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart”, she said tenderly, before her eyes returned to Charlie, warm but tired.

So tired.

She held out her hands again and Charlie stepped towards the bed, taking them in his. She beamed at him. “Oh, my boy, I’ve missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Charlie admitted, before his tears started.

Sarah wiped them away tenderly. “Oh, my dear boy, please don’t cry,” she said softly, glancing at Nick who was desperately trying to hold it together for her sake, although Charlie could tell that he was close to breaking.

And so did Sarah.

“Baby, could you give me a few minutes alone with Charlie?” she begged, stroking his cheek.

“Sure,” Nick tried to smile at her. “I’ll be in the cafeteria. Take as long as you need.” With that he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. 

She smiled at him, full of pride and concern. “I’ll send Charlie to find you once we’re done,” she promised. Nick glanced at Charlie, giving him a thin but warm smile. “Sure,” he said, before he left the room.

Sarah patted the space beside her on the bed, and Charlie cautiously sat down, taking her hand.

“It’s so good to see you again after all these years,” she said tenderly, stroking his cheek. “You look tired.”

“I am,” he admitted. 

She sighed deeply. “So is Nick.”

The words hung between them.

“I – I thought you hated me,” Charlie confessed tearfully.

“Oh, my dear boy,” she said warmly, sadness in her eyes. “I did, for about two seconds. But I know you. I know that, whatever you did, you had your reasons. And that you hurt yourself, too.”

Charlie let out a tiny sob. “I’m so sorry, Sarah.”

“I know you are. But I didn’t drag you here to hear you apologise for something that’s in the past. I wanted to ask a favour.”

“What can I do?”

Sarah sighed again. “You know he still loves you, don’t you? He never stopped.”

“Me, neither,” Charlie admitted quietly. 

Sarah brushed a curl out of his face. “I know,” she said simply. “And he’s going to need you. Now more than ever.” 

Charlie nodded. 

“It would be a great comfort to me to know that you’ll be there for him once I’m gone.”

Charlie wanted to scream at her, that no, she was not going, that she would be fine, that she could be there for Nick herself, just like she had always been.

But he knew better.

The machine on the other side of the bed was slowly beeping, steadily counting down Sarah’s time.

She smiled at Charlie. “I know,” she continued softly. “Will you be a friend to him again, just as you once were?” she begged.

Charlie nodded. “If he’ll let me.”

“Oh darling, I’m sure he will. And whatever you need to do to be able to be there for him, I’m sure he’ll help you.”

“Yeah,” Charlie’s voice broke. “He always was.”

“Will you be there for him? Will you promise me?”

Charlie looked at her through the fog in his eyes. “Anything for you,” he said and kissed her cheek.

Sarah smiled. “You’ll be okay,” she promised.

Charlie found Nick in the hospital garden. He stepped to his side. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Nick replied, staring into the distance, eyes red and puffy.

Charlie took a deep breath. “I think you should go to her,” he whispered.

“Is – is it time?” Nick asked weakly, looking at Charlie, begging with his eyes for some sort of comfort.

“I think it might be,” Charlie replied flatly. There was no comfort he could give. Not now.

Nick closed his eyes and nodded, before he steeled himself to say goodbye to his mum for the last time.

Charlie’s heart ached as he watched him go.

“You’re here?” he heard an aggressive voice. Charlie got up from the bench where he had been sitting, lost in his grief, and faced David.

“Your mum wanted to see me,” he explained. 

All the fight suddenly left David and he looked like a little boy, lost in his sadness. “Well, thank you for coming, I suppose,” he muttered. 

Charlie nodded. “You should go inside, Nick’s already with her.”

David looked at Charlie, nodded and started walking towards the entrance, shoulders bent in grief. 

“David?” Charlie called out suddenly. Surprised, David turned around. “Don’t start anything, okay? She loves you both. She deserves to go in peace.”

David nodded, turned around and went inside.

They stood in front of Nick’s childhood home, just standing there, each lost in their memories. 

Charlie remembered how he had made Nick tea.

“He’s so lucky to have you, Charlie!”

Nick remembered his coming out to his mum at the kitchen table.

“Oh, I love you!”

Gone.

They took a deep breath together and entered.

Charlie stayed with Nick. He went with him to the funeral. He watched, silently crying, as Nick laid down the flowers on Sarah’s grave that they had bought together. He stayed with him, when Nick returned to work some days later, waiting for him in the evening with one of Nick’s comfort foods. 

Nick barely noticed him.

It was hard.

Tori came over sometimes, bringing a casserole or some roast. She never stayed long. She offered for Charlie to stay with her, pointing out that he would have a proper bed to sleep in.

Charlie hadn’t told her that he was sleeping in Nick’s bed.

It was hard.

They didn’t touch, and they didn’t talk about it, Nick always already gone when Charlie woke up. Or got out of bed after another sleepless night. Sometimes he would doze off, waking to find Nick snuggling him in his sleep. Every time Charlie carefully disentangled himself from Nick’s embrace.

Nick never woke. And they didn’t talk about it.

Charlie knew that Nick found some sort of comfort in his presence at night. And Charlie was happy to give it. They continued sleeping in the same bed, never touching – at least not consciously – both not knowing what they were to each other. 

Then, one day, Nick started to acknowledge Charlie’s presence more and more. Sometimes, Charlie would find a note on the pillow beside him, reading “Thank you” in Nick's elaborate handwriting. Sometimes, he would find a new book on the bedside table next to his side of the bed. And sometimes Nick would briefly smile at him as Charlie dished out their dinner.

Nick noticed that sometimes Charlie had cooked something else for himself. He never brought it up, but he was grateful all the same.

After weeks of coexisting in the same space, Nick entered the kitchen on a Saturday morning, finding Charlie and a cup of tea waiting for him. He sat down quietly, took a sip and looked at Charlie.

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

And so they took their first walk together in 16 years. Silently. They walked through the park, they walked through the streets, passing cafès and shops they had frequently visited in their former life.

But they avoided the school in silent mutual understanding.

They both knew that they weren’t ready for the memories that would bring up.

Not yet.

The next Saturday they repeated their walk. And the next. And the next. They had started talking about Sarah, what she had meant to each of them. 

On one of their walks they passed a coffee shop. Charlie went inside without a word. When he returned he passed a cup to Nick. It was his favourite. And as Charlie handed him the cup, their hands briefly brushing against each other, they looked into each other’s eyes.

And Charlie knew that the healing had begun.

They started talking about themselves. At breakfast. At dinner. Before going to bed in the evening, a movie or some sort of show running in the background.

They talked about Nick’s day, about their friends, about their lives in general.

Still, they didn’t talk .

Charlie resumed his remote work for the publishing company. He knew he was good at his job, having received a promotion not long ago. He made good money. But he didn’t start looking for a place of his own. 

He would stay with Nick.

As long as he needed him.

As long as he would let him.

Although it broke Charlie’s heart.

One day Nick returned from work, joining Charlie in the kitchen. Silently, he sat down at the table and Charlie brought over the lasagna he had prepared. 

The table was already set.

Without touching the lasagna Nick took a deep breath, finally looking at Charlie who had sat down, too. “I’m ready to talk if you are,” he said quietly, looking nervously across the table.

Charlie nodded. “Nick, I’m so sorry,” he choked out, voicing what he had kept inside for so many years.

Nick nodded and gave him a smile. “I know, Char.”

“I guess - ,” Charlie started haltingly, looking at his hands. “I was just so angry all the time.”

Nick laid his hand on the table, not quite reaching out to take Charlie’s, but an offer nonetheless. “At me for breaking my promise? For treating you like some sort of broken, fragile mess?”

Charlie looked at him in surprise. “You knew?”

Nick nodded sadly. “Not back then. Not when it would have made a difference. I realised it once I started going to therapy. I talked about you a lot,” he finished, looking at Charlie, his hand moving a little closer.

“Yeah, me too,” Charlie whispered. “It took many hours with Geoff before I was able to disentangle everything I was feeling at the time.”

“So - I’m sorry, too,” Nick said emphatically.

Charlie felt a heavy weight lift from his shoulders. “Thank you,” he muttered.

“Will you tell me? Eventually?” Nick asked softly.

Charlie looked at him. “Will you listen?”

And when their hands finally met, Nick promised, “I will.”

And as he was staring at their joined hands, interlaced as they once had been, Charlie knew that Sarah had been right.

They would be okay. 

Eventually.

Her last request.