the dumping ground // one shots

charlie // one shot

warnings - none for once, it's a bit angsty but what's new?

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charlie is always thinking, a myriad of blurry words filtering themselves within her mind before she can fully process half of them.

somedays, they can be restrained and calculated, however, more often than not, they are loud and abrasive and they pour through her like rushing water (or like a ton of bricks falling from a building, breaking and scattering as suddenly as they hit the concrete floor).

she thinks about her upcoming exams and worries about her grandad's deteriorating health, but her focus is often tailored towards the people she lives with.

in fact, her whole life has tailored her towards an awareness of other people. she and her grandad were her gran's only carers until her passing, and by the time her grandad became ill, she already possessed an acute awareness of the little details behind a person's psyche and debilitating physical condition.

and perhaps her own mental state is worsened by her refusal to express her invasive thoughts - having lived her younger years with a morally ambiguous mother who rarely spoke to her unless she was reminding the girl to 'be quiet!', charlie simply became accustomed to staying inside of her own mind.

as of this moment, she twirls a teaspoon through her hot chocolate, tiredly wiping away the sleep in her eyes. two in the morning is a horrible time to be awake, if you ask her.

she turns around, steaming mug in sweater-pawed hands, and carefully strolls towards the living room.

april may mark the beginning of spring, but its biting cold nights seem to hold the bitter nature of a january morning. the window glass has fogged lightly and charlie is forever grateful that her imperfect life has always fallen apart inside of an insulated house.

(her mind wanders towards alex and freezing cold nights and whether she has always known that this resentment he feels towards his mother delves so much deeper than his initial abandonment.)

as she ponders on the literary irony of foggy glass providing her clarity, slow footfalls of another troubled resident echo towards her. she cranes her neck from where she is perched, only to make eye contact with her new-found friend, ryan.

she smiles gently and waves, urging him to sit with her. (even from a distance, his loneliness is suffocating.)

he accepts the silent request and joins her on the two person sofa, not quite relaxing into it like she hoped. the quiet settles over them for a moment, until charlie remembers that ryan held no drink, "do you want a hot chocolate? sasha practically insists that i make her one whenever the two of us are down here." she places her own mug a few feet away on the floor, heading to stand up.

ryan shakes his head before she can, hair flopping across his eyes messily. he seems different tonight, she notes. during the day, when the world is watching him, charlie sees him wander through life as if he is holding his breath. (and yet, right here, right now, it seems the air has finally reached him and he is learning how to let go.)

the change is a welcome one and she finds herself pressing into his side, seeking warmth from her unlikely friend. whilst he does not reciprocate her affection, the boy is content merely sitting with her.

she glances at his unusually softened features, a question burning on her mind.

"it's your birthday soon, right? i can understand if that's why you're losing sleep, jody told me that you get worried because of past years." she rambles softly, "how are you feeling about it? i know it would be so easy for me to just sit here and tell you that you don't have to be scared, but that's not how these things work."

charlie fiddles with the ring secured around her neck, grasping for some semblance of a normal conversation with this boy. (he needs it, god knows he needs it.)

she can see beneath his schooled features; an answer hides within his eyes yet he decides against replying, and she knows this because of the tightness in his jaw. anxiety now surrounds him and it is entirely her fault. (a pillow smothers her mouth until her tongue is made of cotton).

despite her question hanging between them, comfortable silence falls over the pair once more and charlie is almost grateful. ashdene ridge, for all its homely quirks, can be too loud for a girl who learned to keep quiet.

"so, you can't sleep? me neither." she can hear the tension coursing through his veins like the faint buzz of electricity within a plug socket. (it sparks and crackles and she needs to turn off her thoughts before she pries any further.)

he meets her gaze with a half lidded drowsiness, lips curling upwards gently, "yeah, something like that."

(his eyes are brown and smiles never reach them.)

she reciprocates the gesture despite her saddening thoughts, "my gran used to say that smart people couldn't sleep because their brains never stopped working. i think she was just trying to reassure me, though."

ryan shrugs, huffing in amusement when the girl jostles with his shoulder, "it was nice of her to make you feel better." he pauses for a moment, "i wish i could've met my gran, maybe things would've been a little different if she was still around."

charlie watches him toy with the frays on his pyjama sleeves. it is supposed to be a nervous habit yet, whenever her gaze settles on him during any point in the day, ryan is constantly playing with his clothes.

(she wonders how he can cope when, instead of blood, it is trepidation that floods his veins.)

(a second glance leaves her wondering if he ever learned how.)

"maybe," she muses quietly, leaning her head on top of his shoulder, "you'd have lived with her instead, made all these amazing memories. and, if my gran were here too, they could've been friends. they'd have met at the old tea shop in town and refused to leave each others' side since."

"i like that." he mutters into her hair. she feels the vibrations of his voice and smiles. (they feel warm and relaxed and it is exactly the feeling he deserves to hold onto.)

a weight slowly rests upon her cranium as ryan himself leans against her, the boy tiredly lowering his own head on top of hers, "they'd introduce us after a while," he murmurs, "and we'd immediately become friends, just like they did."

"we'd be inseparable." charlie's eyes slip closed, her now lukewarm drink sitting abandoned on the floor.

she drapes her full weight against ryan as she drifts in and out of consciousness. for a moment, the boy shifts beneath her, securing his arm behind her back and instantly allowing her to become more comfortable.

"night, charlie." he whispers.

she mumbles a drowsy reply that is somewhat comprehensible and is soon lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of ryan's heartbeat.

—————

ryan 👏🏼 and 👏🏼 charlie 👏🏼 are 👏🏼 besties 👏🏼

lmao the amount of times i used the word 'and' in this is almost obsessive

i don't blame you if you find it annoying but it was purposeful i swear

also the 'charlie learning to keep quiet' idea was based on the fact that her mother had a few run ins with the law before being imprisoned. i can't remember if they acc mentioned what she did but bc this is a kids show i'm assuming one of her crimes was monetary like tax fraud or not paying loans, hence charlie would be told to keep quiet if someone came by their house