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Chapter Text

Simon and Garfunkel warbled quietly from the radio that someone had set on the counter in the communal bathroom and then never retrieved. The residents weren't sure if it was due to the constant barrage of water that the radio endured when the shower curtain wasn't fully pulled shut or when they were careless washing their hands, but the radio could only tune into the one station. No one would buy a new one to replace it, however, saying they didn't want to step on the owner's toes.

As if that man even still lived in the boarding house, for all they knew. The thing was ancient.

They just didn't want to spend the money on a new one.

They had no ground to complain, then, yet they still did.

Except for Stede.

The folk station suited him fine, if his humming along to The Sound of Silence was anything to go by. To any passerby, he would have looked as cheerful as could be, but he really wasn't. He was concerned about his look, smoothing his outfit and fluffing his hair.

Now, this wasn't a rare occurrence. That's how Stede could be when getting ready, but he had a legitimate reason this time!

There was to be a little gathering in the living room for the residents to mingle. Get to know their neighbors.

Possibly even make a friend.

Stede could admit that he needed that. The only resident he had talked to was Lucius, but he figured his hallway discussions with the younger man was all the socialization he needed at the moment.

His therapist had said he shouldn't overwhelm himself, after all.

But Lucius had insisted that Stede attend.

He had said it would be good for him, but Stede simply felt as if his heart was going to give out.

No, he couldn't do this, he thought, letting his brush fall to the counter.

Of course, that's when Lucius swooped in, never heeding the closed door policy, but Stede supposed he should have locked it if he wanted to be assured his privacy.

Lucius took a look at Stede through the mirror and let out a huff as he finger combed his own hair.

"That bow tie doesn't help bring out your eyes," he said, and Stede deflated like a party balloon at midnight.

"I'm not going," he mumbled, not at all petulant.

"No, you have to go!" Lucius cried out, turning to face him. He grabbed Stede's shoulders, but not harshly. "I just mean, I have something better for this. You'll look like a million bucks, and you'll feel like it too!"

So Stede let himself be dragged to Lucius's room once they had finished primping (Lucius's word, not his) and found himself being put through an entire makeover. It was a bit of a surprise how well Lucius's clothes fit, other than being a bit baggy in the thigh area, but Stede was comfortable.

Even if the style was a little outside of his comfort zone. Lucius assured him several times though that they had achieved "a million bucks plus some," so he supposed he couldn't complain.

So Stede followed Lucius from his room down the stairs and to the party, but once Lucius started talking to some of the other younger residents? Stede's anxiety over not fitting in with the group outweighed the anxiety of standing alone, so he broke away from the crowd and went digging in a cooler someone had set up, in search for a seltzer. Give himself something to do as he worked up the courage to be more than a mere wallflower.

"If you're looking for the alcohol, I think they've regulated it to the kitchen," a very distinct voice said, and Stede nearly dropped the La Croix he had managed to find among the sodas.

"Oh no, I'm alright. I think I found what I need," Stede replied, unsure if he should grit his teeth or bat his eyes. He turned around and standing there was Izzy Hands, the boarding house's longest standing resident. Stede had been living there for about six months and he still couldn't tell you if he loathed the man or, as juvenile as it was to say, had a crush on him. All Stede was positive about was that Izzy Hands brought out the worst in him.

"Oh? Don't drink Bonnet?" he asked, and Stede spluttered.

It was a miracle he was finally able to ask how Izzy knew his name.

"I help collect the rent."

"Oh, uh, yes. I knew that," Stede said, taking a sip of his seltzer to give himself a moment to recover from his blunder. "And, I do drink. When the occasion calls for it."

Izzy craned his neck and glanced around the living room before scoffing.

Stede couldn't help but bristle, indignant in everyone else's defense. Sure, there was only the one cooler with a poor selection of drinks. And, sure, someone had thrown one, lone tan streamer around the floor lamp as decoration. And, yes, only Lucius and two of the other residents were actually mingling. Everyone else was just standing around, looking as awkward as Stede had thought that he would.

"If there was ever an occasion, I think it would be now," Izzy said, and Stede had to fight the urge to throw his drink in Izzy's face.

"Unlike some people, I know how to have a good time without getting intoxicated," he snapped back with a sniff.

"Are you implying that I have a drinking problem?"

Izzy stepped into Stede's space, and Stede's heart was beating a mile a minute... for several reasons.

"I gotta ask," Oluwande said once Stede had excused himself to go get a drink. "What is his deal? I've heard whispers, but you talk to him. What is up?"

"I've been sworn to secrecy. Plus, I actually think Stede legally shouldn't have even told me, considering. So I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to."

Lucius nodded, turning the gesture into a form of punctuation.

Period. He was not going to say another word on the matter.

However, he was terrible at keeping secrets, and if he was going to spill to anyone? Best it was Oluwande because...

"I can trust you, though, being my second floor brother and all."

"Yeah, course," Oluwande agreed, rolling his eyes slightly at the new title, but Lucius didn't notice.

"It's so scary. So, like, Stede thought he was straight. Or, well, was in the closet, but he was married to a woman."

Oluwande buried his face in his hands with a sigh.

"Lucius, that's not scary."

"Are you gonna let me tell the story or not?" Lucius asked, hip cocked. Oluwande mumbled something incoherent, and Lucius took that as encouragement to continue. "So, Stede was married to a woman, but a couple years ago she said 'enough is enough,' she served him the divorce papers with her new boyfriend in tow."

Oluwande winced.

"That's actually pretty rough."

"Yeah, like even if you don't love the person, that's quite a blow to your ego, right?" Lucius shook his head sadly. "Stede says that it was a non-issue, but I could see that hurting. And it only gets worse from there."

"Oh no. It gets worse?!" asked Lucius's Swedish neighbor, whose name he still hadn't caught, despite the man having moved in to the room to Lucius's right almost a year ago.

"Yeah, after the split, Stede threw himself into his work. He had been working at his father's company basically since he had finished college, but it's not like he had put in those kind of hours before. So he had never noticed that his old school bully now worked at the company, too."

"Tell me he got revenge," said Jim, one of Oluwande's partners.

"The opposite, in a way," Lucius said, enjoying the tension that he was managing to build with his telling of the story. "He and Nigel, the school bully, reconnected and well... Sparks flew. Before Stede knew it, they were getting serious enough that Nigel suggested that Stede should move into his condo. Maybe they had moved a little faster than they should have, but Stede had been living in a boarding situation like this, and after having a home with his family? That had been quite the adjustment, and he hadn't been handling it well."

"Ah, that's such a shame. Living in this boarding house has been one of the best things I've ever done," Archie, another one of Oluwande's partners, interrupted with.

"What works for you won't work for everyone, baby," Oluwande told them.

"Yeah, and Stede seems to like this kind of living situation now," Lucius assured them, although he didn't really care whether Stede was fitting in at the boarding house now or not. As uncaring as that sounded. "But yes, he jumped at the opportunity to move in with Nigel, but then the honeymoon period ended. Nigel began to show his true colors. Turned out he still had a mean streak, and he would grow tired of bullying others. So he would inevitably come back around to bullying Stede."

"Abusing Stede, you mean," Roach, the only resident with foresight to ring food the gathering, said. "That's how those types are, huh?"

Lucius nodded sagely as he grabbed one of the little cucumber finger sandwiches from the plate Roach was holding.

"Too true. And it doesn't stop there. Nigel had a slew of nasty habits, and Stede soon learned his partner owed a lot of bad people a lot of money. Nigel swore he had it under control, but one night a masked intruder broke into the condo and chased them down! Stede managed to get away long enough to hide, and since Nigel was clearly the main target, Stede was spared. Hiding in the closet, ironically enough. But, yeah, so this hired muscle like... axe murdered Nigel for not paying up. When Stede finally crawled out, there was blood and guts everywhere. And to add insult to injury, Nigel had designed the condo in all white. There was no saving any of that interior design."

"Ack. You're spendin' too much time with Pete," John said. "That's a tall tale if I e'er heard one."

Somehow with a full mouth, Frenchie agreed with him.

"I was with him until the axe," Buttons loudly declared, but what did Lucius care?

He told the story the way that Stede had.

Maybe only a few embellishments here and there. Otherwise it was 100% straight from the horse's mouth.

"Anyway, Stede moved here after he was informed that, despite their relationship, Nigel had never updated his will. As if he actually would have updated his will to include Stede, but I supposed the police worded it that way to let him down easy. Sadly, the condo was left to Nigel's twin brother... that he had never told Stede about! The last final nail in the coffin, however? The brother couldn't bare to even step foot in the condo, which I can't really blame him for that. So he sold it... and moved in here as well. Now every time Stede sees Chauncey Badminton, he's reminded of that terrible day."

"Oh, that's horrible," Pete said, standing a little too close for comfort, even with how the big group around Lucius had grown. It was cramped, sure, but there was no reason for him to be practically straddling Lucius's leg. "I couldn't even begin to imagine how he must feel. Good thing he's had you as a friend through it all."

Lucius couldn't help but preen at that.

Maybe Pete wasn't all that bad.

"Yeah, he's really lucky. And I hope after tonight, he'll have more friends so he can truly move on and start his new life."

Oluwande rolled his eyes again, turning to Jim and Archie and muttered, "Good grief."

"I wasn't exactly implying that," Stede said, clutching his can so tightly the side began to dent. "I'm just saying... It's a mixer, meant for conversation, which is stimulating on its own."

Izzy was about to respond, something biting, Stede was sure.

Considering the now prominently visible vein in his forehead.

Thankfully, however, that was when his partner Jack Rackham sidled up next to him. The man had never outgrown his fraternity member phase, and so he had brought them their drinks in those tawdry red plastic cups. He handed one to Izzy, who wrinkled his nose as he inspected it.

"Is this even safe for consumption, Jack?" he asked.

"Don't be such a fuckin' wimp," Jack told him, slapping his back far too hard to be considered affectionate. "You know there's no way they splurged for the good shit, anyway. I just made you a rum and Coke, hot tits."

"Christ Jack, can you not call me shit like that in public."

As the two men began to descend into a lover's dispute, Stede looked for an efficient means to escape. He glanced over toward Lucius, and gawked when he noticed that pretty much the entire boarding house was now loitering around him. That didn't leave him with many other conversations as options if he wanted to be as inconspicuous. It should be easy enough to blend into that crowd, but that also meant then the room was practically empty. Izzy and Jack would notice Stede as he strode across the room.

Then, it didn't matter, because Stede had wasted too much time. Jack turned his attention to him, and scoffed.

"I didn't think we'd see you tonight, Steve," he said, gesturing around with his cup, the no doubt disgusting drink sloshing dangerously around. "Even though it's a pretty lame party, I didn't think parties were really your scene."

"Stede. My name is..." Stede started to protest, but Izzy glared at him before cutting him off.

"Jack, how about you go get us some of the snacks Roach brought before they're all gone?" he asked, but his partner blatantly ignored him.

"Whatcha drinkin' there, Stevie boy? A Fresca? Don't you wanna have fun? Or do you not know how to have fun?"

Jack raised a brow, and Stede was trying to not let the odious man get to him. He was going to simply excuse himself and rejoin Lucius and his friends, since he hadn't been able to sneak over there earlier, but then Izzy was covering up a laugh.

Rather terribly, as it were, and said, "Jack, it's just not his thing. Drop it."

"There's nothing wrong with hydrating yourself before making a mixed drink," Stede pointed out, crushing the can in his hand, even though there was still some liquid in the bottom. "Now that I've wet my whistle, I'm sure I'll find myself in the kitchen so I can get something a little bit stronger."

"Oh, a 'little bit stronger,' huh?" Jack asked. He held out his cup to Stede, some of the contents finally spilling over and onto the poor hardwood floor. "Wanna try this? My own recipe."

"Stede," Izzy warned, "I wouldn't..."

"Oh, I'm sure it's delicious," Stede insisted, the lie obvious to his own ears, but he still took the cup.

He hadn't even brought it up to his mouth when he first caught the strong scent of the alcohol, but there was no turning back now. One good sip of the mixed drink wouldn't kill him. It probably would be less alcohol than a shot, and Stede would be sober by the time he could acceptably retire for the night. Plus he would have the satisfaction of handing it to Jack.

So Stede breathed in, and breathed out, and clenched his eyes shut as he chugged a good half of Jack's drink.

He immediately started choking, but thankfully he didn't spit the drink in Izzy and Jack's faces. (Although he wouldn't have exactly minded embarrassing himself further if he could embarrass Jack, too.) If there had even been anything initially mixed with the liquor that Jack had used, it had certainly only been the tiniest amount. Stede couldn't have even told you what liquors had been used. A lot of a lot, considering how muddled the taste was.

"What the fuck did you just give him, genius?" Izzy asked, now the one slapping his partner, and Stede was beginning to think that their relationship wasn't very healthy.

Thinking such serious thoughts was not a good idea, though. His head was starting to feel too fuzzy for that.

"Fuck, Iz, cool your tits. It's just a Long Island Iced Tea. Well, minus the Coke."

"Minus the... For fuck's sake Jack. So you gave him like seven shots of every liquor known to man."

"Pretty sure there's more known than what gets put in a Long Island," Jack said with a dismissive shrug, and just watching the motion made Stede's head spin.

He tried to steady his breathing, bracing himself by leaning over and placing his hands on his knees. He feared that if he kept standing upright that, well, he wouldn't continue standing for long.

"You're such a dick, Jack. The man just went from La Croix to Jungle Juice. Why do you always have to be like this?"

"I'm not always like this," Jack argued, and then laughed. "I mean, I'm not always like that. That would be tame for me. I failed to mention, I also put a little some extra fun in there from my own stash."

Stede missed what Izzy yelled at Jack after that because the commotion brought Lucius and a few of his friends over. Lucius's face was wavy when he bent down to speak to Stede, but he was at least able to make out that it was Lucius.

"What did those assholes give to you?" he asked, and Stede shrugged. Oh, and he had been right. Doing so made his stomach lurch, and he nearly collapsed. Lucius hauled him up by his armpits as he muttered, "Oh Stede. I thought you were better than this."

"Wur w'goin'?" Stede managed to ask as they stumbled, not toward the hallway leading to Stede's room, but rather the front door.

"Gotta get you some fresh air," Lucius explained. "Then I'm gonna get you some water, and we'll see where we'll go from there, alright?"

Stede was unsure if he answered. He must have lost some time because he realized that he was already sitting in one of the chairs on the front porch, and well, Lucius was no longer there. So answering then would have been pointless. Stede hoped that his friend would be back soon with a glass of water, because that sounded rather delightful. His head already didn't feel as full of cotton as it had before, and Stede was sure a glass of water was all he would need to feel 100% again.

Perhaps even better than that.

For the first time in he didn't know how long, he didn't feel as if he was being crushed under one of those Acme weights that always got the best of Wile E. Coyote.

Stress? He didn't know her.

Distantly, Stede could parse out that whatever Jack had put in the drink from his personal collection must be responsible for his good mood, but he definitely didn't want to admit that. He refused to credit Jack for anything, especially now that there was a very attractive man sitting next to him.

"Oh, hello," Stede said, his head lolling against his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I hadn't realized anyone else was out here. I'm Stede."

The man didn't introduce himself in return, which was rather rude. Stede would have been offended, but he supposed he could understand. He was a right mess. Who would want to have a conversation with him in this state?

Then, that's when he felt it. A rough tug down below, and he gasped when he looked down and saw that the man was feeling him through his pants.

The sharp intake of air sent Stede into another coughing fit, and that triggered his gag reflex, and all of that vile concoction he had ingested decided to come back up. Thankfully, that scared the strange man away, grumbling about how disgusting Stede was...

...and he had to agree.

There was vomit all over his, Lucius's, pants now. There was no way he could face Lucius whenever he came back out.

On wobbly feet, Stede made his way down the steps and off into the night. A walk would do him good.

Even if he couldn't exactly walk in a straight line just yet.

Stede wasn't sure how long he wandered. He didn't know how many turns he had taken, and he couldn't have told you what the name of the street he was on was, and that was a problem. He wasn't familiar with the area yet, and he started to worry about how he was ever going to find his way back to the boarding house.

Then he looked up and saw that he was standing in front of a decrepit cemetery. The gate was starting to fall off its hinges and was hanging wide open, and something possessed Stede. He had no choice but to walk down the path and down among the tombstones. It was peaceful there, however, and Stede knew his instincts had made a very fine choice. He began to let himself relax after all of that hubbub.

He decided to settle down in front of the largest gravestone in the cemetery. It was a normal stone on the bottom, where the man's name and everything must have once been chiseled but had since worn away, but on top there was a handsome sculpted bust. Stede rested his head on the lower part of the stone so he could watch the sculpture as the light of the moon danced across the man's exquisite face.

"I probably should be weary. A handsome face can be deceiving, can't it?" Stede wondered out loud, just as lightning flashed across the sky. "I feel like I can trust you, though. It's been so... so tough, and I haven't really had anyone to talk to. Lucius tries his best, but... I'm afraid it's not enough. For if I were to try and tell him about what happened on the porch, I don't think he'd be very understanding. But I don't really think I can compar... compement... I don't think I can deal with it on my own. To be quite honest, I wish I was down there with you."

There was another flash of lightning, and this time Stede could hear the thunder that followed. A proper storm was approaching, and the last thing he needed was to be caught in the rain. Reluctantly, he pushed himself up off the ground and smiled wearily at the tombstone.

"Well, thank you for listening," he said, and before he could second guess himself, he lifted up onto his tippy toes and kissed the sculpture's cheek.

Miraculously, he managed to make his way back to the boarding house. When he had left the cemetery, his head was clearer, and he was no longer seeing the world in technicolor. He was able to retrace his steps and get home without too many issues. He let himself in as quietly as possible, thinking about how he didn't want to disturb the party, but the living room was already dark and empty. He must have been gone for several hours, and he hoped that no one had been too worried about his whereabouts.

The rain finally started to pound on the roof as he made his way to the bathroom. He had only wanted to brush his teeth and hopefully get rid of the taste of sick in his mouth, but he hadn't been able to keep his head bowed quite enough. He groaned when he saw his reflection, and before he could stop himself, he was punching his reflection as thunder boomed around him. Picking up his abandoned bow tie from the counter, he wrapped his bleeding hand before making his way to his room and collapsing into his bed.

If he dreamed about a handsome face that was carved in stone, well that was between him and the dead.

Chapter Text

Stede awoke to a pounding in his head and a pounding at his door.

It took a solid minute before he was able to open his eyes. His room was in a disarray. He had managed to change into his pajamas, leaving Lucius's clothes balled up in the corner. The coat rack that was normally in that corner was toppled over onto the floor. There was dried mud from the cemetery tracked all over the carpet, and it appeared that he had gotten sick a second time all over the comforter.

He had almost forgotten what had woken him up as he took stock of his room, but then the person on the other side of the door started knocking again.

"Stede, it's Lucius. We're having a resident meeting. Someone trashed the bathroom."

Stede groaned.

"I know, babe, but Chauncey's really taking it personally. You gotta."

"Just... give me five minutes," Stede managed to respond, his voice scratchy.

Not knowing him, you would think he smoked two packs a day.

If he was being honest, he needed more like five hours to make himself human enough to face Chauncey Badminton, but beggars can't be choosers.

Plus, no matter what Stede did, Chauncey despised him. Stede liked to believe if Chauncey had seen how happy he had made Nigel most of the time, despite it all, then he could have eventually learned to love Stede like a brother. As it was, he blamed Stede for everything.

Of course, in his mind, Nigel would have never gotten wrapped up in gambling. Stede must have been stealing from him to support his own habit, and the killer had been after Stede. Chauncey fulled believed that the intruder had attacked an innocent man instead. Never mind the fact that Stede proceeded to 'slander' Nigel's name, then, in order to clear his.

No matter how many times Stede assured Chauncey that he had loved his brother and would have never do anything to harm Nigel, the surviving Badminton twin would go on another rant about how his brother had been a saint and how Stede was a nothing.

Well, if he was a nothing, then he shouldn't have to attend the house meeting, Stede thought with a grumble.

There was only enough time for him to throw on a robe and rinse his mouth out with some Scope --

-- and it killed him.

Stede tried to walk as slowly down the stairs without appearing as if he was prolonging the inevitable. It was just that the stairs creaked so loudly, and Stede's head felt as if it was going to split open.

He had a feeling that most of the other residents were in the same boat, because there was only a handful of them in the living room. Lucius was sitting in Pete's lap in the recliner, and Stede wondered when that had happened. (And that only solidified his suspicion that the party had certainly continued on after he had wandered off.) Oluwande, Buttons, and Hornberry were on the couch -- as spread out as they could be as three grown men on a second hand couch.

And then there was Chauncey, pacing around the cramped room, his face red and sweaty as if he had just finished yelling.

Stede was amazed that hadn't woken him up before Lucius had come to fetch him, considering that his room was on the ground floor.

Small blessings, he supposed.

Chauncey lifted his head, looking poised to start in on another lecture, and grinned cruely when he caught sight of Stede.

"Well, look who finally decided to join us," he sneered. "Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, but there's more important things currently at hand. Imagine my surprise when I went to get ready for my breakfast appointment this morning and nearly sliced my foot open on the shattered glass that was scattered all over the floor."

"Which I'm sure Stede knows nothing about," Hornberry said, and while he always struck Stede as a bit of a suck up, he'd take it.

"Yeah, my vote is still Jack. He was drunk as fuck and staggering around before it was even dark out," Lucius said and then mimed punching in Stede's direction. "Punching a mirror isn't exactly Stede's style, is it?"

Stede gasped, getting the hint. How would Lucius know that it was a punch that had destroyed the mirror in the bathroom, if it weren't for...

Stede tried to take a discreet look at his hand. Thankfully his makeshift bandage was nowhere to be seen. It must have fallen off while he was asleep, so it wasn't glaringly obvious, but if anyone (Chauncey) were to even take a relatively close look? Needless to say, the dried blood would be a dead giveaway.

So Stede stuffed his hands in the pockets of his robe and hoped that was enough to keep him in the clear.

"The bathroom was spotless when the party ended and Jack had to leave," Chauncey said, pointing a finger at Lucius, and then turning it on everyone else for good measure. "In fact, I made him leave a little earlier, in case none of you noticed. He shouldn't have been at the party in the first place. It was for residents of the building, and he had no business being here when we were supposed to be spending time together."

"Oh for Christ's... He's Izzy's long term partner, mate," Oluwande said. "Alright. I can admit that he can be a little annoying at times, but he's as much of a part of this house as any of us. I know you haven't lived here long, but most of the residents think he's a good time."

"That's lovely Olu, but not the point," Lucius stage whispered.

It didn't matter. Chauncey had decided to tune them out and was advancing on Stede. He backed him up into the wall, immediately making it very apparent that he was hiding his hands.

"I know you did it," Chauncey said with a jeer. "You love the attention. Even if it's neg... No! Especially because it's negative. It has to be all about you, and you're sick in the head, so you'll do anything to the in the center of it all. Well, it ends now!"

The entire room erupted into chaos, then.

Chauncey was still in Stede's face, berating him as if he were a naughty schoolchild. Pretty much the rest of the room was shouting about how Chauncey had gone too far, although only Oluwande seemed to be specifically still defending Stede, saying something about how he was sure that there must be another explanation.

"Aye, that storm last night weren't natural," Buttoms boomed over everyone. "Somethin' witchy was... is afoot."

"There aren't witches goin' 'round breaking mirrors," Pete said, rolling his eyes.

"You do have to admit, there was something extra spooky about that storm last night," Lucius said, and Stede was amazed that Pete didn't toss him right off his lap and onto the floor. "The sky was green, in case you hadn't looked outside. It was wild."

"Yes! And there was ball lightning," Hornberry added.

Stede was doubly thankful that he had made it home before the heavens had opened up. Being out in that storm would have honestly been the last straw, considering his mental state at the time, and the night had been horrible enough.

He wanted to try and explain that to Chauncey. He would take full responsibility for his actions, of course, but it was eating him up inside that they would believe he was capable of such acts of senseless vandalism when himself.

He wouldn't have done such a thing, no matter how upset he was, if he hadn't been coming down from whatever Jack had spiked his drink with.

Stede knew deep down, however, that it would make no difference. He would be wasting his breath.

"I was called in to work today," he said quietly, cut it cut through the commotion like a razor. Suddenly, you could hear a pin drop in the living room. "I'll pay for the repairs with the extra money."

"That sounds like the perfect solution to me," Oluwande said, leveling Chauncey with a glare, "and that is that."

A few of them dispersed, although a few stayed, but that the conversation was officially over was clear.

That didn't stop Chauncey from leaning in to threaten Stede.

"You may have them fooled, but I can see you for who you really are. It's only a matter of time before you snap yet again, but I at least will be prepared. I know exactly what should be done with people like you. Watch your step, Bonnet. Or I'll be calling the sanitarium, and I am very good friends with most of the board."

"You can't do that," Stede whispered as he fought back tears. "I'm not crazy."

"You see masked intruders where there's only your own incompetence. If you were stable, my brother would still be with us."

A sob caught in Stede's throat.

"There... there wasn't anything I could do."

Chauncey scoffed as he turned his back on Stede.

"You keep telling yourself that."

Working at Spanish Jackie'z Tailoring wasn't a dream job, but it was infinitely better than working at Spanish Jackie'z Pub had been.

Spanish Jackie was a famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked) Brookeview citizen who owned several businesses, and no. She was not Spanish.

Stede had learned to not ask her that the hard way.

Things had been bleak after Nigel's funeral. There was dealing with his loss, of course, but then there were all the legal battles that Stede's father put him through. The elder Bonnet went after every rag that dared to imply that Stede had something to do with Nigel's murder. Even Chauncey had attempted to slap Stede with a lawsuit, but Mr. Bonnet had managed to talk him down whilst they were in the deposition phase. Of course, Stede's father had only done all of this to keep the Bonnet name 'unsullied' and so he had been furious when Stede announced that he would be quitting the family business.

Then came the disownment, and Stede was left scrambling to find a job. He took the first one that crossed his path, which of course meant Spanish Jackie'z Pub. They seemed to always have the 'hiring' sign in their window, and once Stede started, he had to wonder why.

The pub was actually a dive bar in every sense of the definition. It was dark and dingy inside, the bar top covered in fading stickers, and the bartenders weren't good for much more than pouring pints and shots. They advertised that they served food, but the 'grill' was no more than a hot plate that Jackie's husband used to heat up frozen chicken nuggets for the braver customers.

Although, to Stede, all the customers seemed that brave.

That tough.

They were the kind of people who could crush Stede's spine with one hand tied behind their back. They didn't take kindly to the new host, and he couldn't blame them. He once again asked why Jackie had been hiring, because he had a feeling that this position hadn't existed before he had started. The customers would berate him for trying to seat them, as a host would. They had been sitting at the same bar stool for the past twenty years, and they were going to keep sitting there for another twenty, so help them God.

Spanish Jackie's disposition was, for the most part, in line with her clientele. She took no shit, and she told it like it was. Stede wouldn't say that he was afraid of her, but he always made sure to be on his best behavior at work, no matter how the customers got to him.

Spanish Jackie saw how he was struggling, however, so she did her one good deed for the year.

"Jackie can set you up at another one of her places," she had said, once Stede had stopped hyperventilating.

(He had thought she was going to fire him when she had asked him to step into her office, because that was the only feasible explanation.)

"You would do that? I haven't exactly been... the best employee."

"Yeah, but you haven't been the worst, so Jackie's got you. If you got the skill set for something. I don't think you can fix cars, can you?" Stede had shook his head, causing Jackie to chuckle. She had lit up a cigarette, and continued. "No? So no Spanish Jackie'z Autoshop, then, but that's okay. We got options."

Stede had always enjoyed altering his own clothes so that they were unique to him. He had never thought that he could make it into a career, but as Jackie had been rambling off the ever-growing list of her other businesses, and she had mentioned the tailoring shop?

It had felt like fate.

Plus, it had pleased Spanish Jackie as well. Apparently it was harder for her to keep employees there then even the pub because every person who had ever sewn a button thought they could hack it.

Leaving only the eighty-seven year old seamstress who must hold the world record for winning the most Employee of the Months in a row. Stede's first day, she hovered over him as he began work on his first garment, and she cried tears of joy when she realized that he did in fact know what he was doing.

Gail was fantastic, and while she had agreed to hold off on retirement until the end of the year because she did thoroughly enjoyed sewing, when it comes to work? Everyone can always use an extra set of hands.

Saturday would normally be Stede's day off, because Gail said he was 'young' and should be out having fun.

That hadn't stopped Stede from scheduling himself for that Saturday even before he knew he would need the money.

Okay. So he hadn't been planning on staying at the boarding house party for long.

He had lied to Lucius.

He had lied to everyone.

He had planed to stay for about an hour before making his excuses about how he had work in the afternoon.

'As much as he'd love to stay.'

The only part he felt guilty over was lying to Gail.

He had told her it was only because he had a free weekend for the first time in ages, so helping out was the least that he could do.

He was thankful, despite it all, to be at the shop once he had arrived (after sweeping up the glass from the mirror, taking a quick shower, and having Roach insist on wrapping up his hand). Having something to do with his hands, even if his right one was sore, kept his mind off of his trouble.

Surely Chauncey wouldn't follow through with his threats?

Stede was a capable and independent adult. There was no way Chauncey could have him committed over a mirror.

He would have enough money to replace it, and then all would eventually be forgotten.

Okay, so Stede wasn't as distracted as he could be, and between that and the magnifying glasses he was wearing so he could stitch up a suit coat's breast pocket, he had a splitting headache. He was doing his best to tune out all the outside noise, so it wouldn't progress, and therefore must have missed the bell tinkling above the door.

The universal signal to indicate a customer had arrived and Stede should be professional and greet them.

(Now they were going to leave a bad review!)

"Hello, I'm here to drop off... Oh, Stede. I didn't know you worked here," said the all too unique voice Stede knew all too well.

Stede looked up, forgetting he had the glasses on, and was greeted by Izzy's nose. He tilted his head back further so he could see his whole face, not thinking about how ridiculous he must look.

"Oh yes. I sew...much," he said, internally wincing at his inability to form sentences.

Izzy laughed, and it didn't sound too cruel.

Perhaps he actually found Stede... funny.

"Hey, I'm sorry about Jack last night," Izzy said, and he did look genuinely sorry. And it hadn't even been his fault! "I hope it didn't ruin the rest of the party for you."

"Oh no," Stede said, waving his hand that wasn't still holding a needle. "That was great. I love... being high. Doing drugs and... being... high."

"Oh, so you're a regular psychoanut", Izzy asked and then they were both stewing in their awkwardness.

Stede had observed Izzy enough to know that wasn't exactly something he would say. He was aiming for banter, but Izzy didn't banter with anyone.

Not even Jack.

Oh, Stede forgot to respond! He had to say something!

Quick!

"Guess you could say, I'm the Buzz Aldrin of drugs."

"...right," Izzy mumbled, and Stede wished for nothing more than to stab himself with his needle. "Anyway, I was wondering if you do cleanings as well as tailoring? Jack got even rowdier as the night went on, and he spilled some red wine and Coke concoction on the lining of my leather jacket."

Oh, Stede was sure that the drink was more than red wine and Coke.

"We do," he told , trying not to let his incredulous judgement show. "Red wine is tough, though, but we can see what we can do."

Gail emerged from the back, buried beneath a very gaudy prom dress they had been hired to hem for a customer, and yet Stede could tell she was gawking at them.

"Stede, sweetheart, you should have told me there was a customer! You're busy. I would have taken care of it," she said, laying the dress out on the counter and bustling toward them. She gave Izzy a once over that would have offended if she had been any younger and said, "So you must be a friend of Stede's, then?"

"Yes, well, 'friend is a bit..." Izzy started, but was cut off as Gail enthusiastically shook his hand between both of hers.

"I honestly was beginning to think Stede was making all his friends and adventures up, so it's such a pleasure to meet you."

"You thought I was lying?" Stede asked quietly, but Gail ignored him.

(Never mind that he had been telling her little white lies here and there. Exaggeration, more than anything. It still hurt.)

"You don't look like a Lucius," Gail said, tapping her chin. "Jim, is it?"

Before Izzy could answer, of course Jack had to barge into the shop.

"What's the fuckin' hold up, Iz?" he demanded. He stalked over to his partner and threw his arm around his shoulder. "Can they get it out or what?"

"Well, Stede was just explaining..."

"Oh, shit. Steve!" Jack said, finally noticing Stede. "What big eyes you have."

Izzy chuckled at the (bad) joke, and Stede pushed his magnifying glasses up onto the top of his head with a huff. At least Gail didn't laugh as she wrote Izzy a ticket for the jacket and told him to check back the following afternoon. Then, once Izzy and Jack left, she tossed the jacket onto the counter door that led to Stede's work space.

"Interesting fellows," Gail said to herself before disappearing back into the depths of the 'Employees Only' area.

Glancing up to make sure no one else was about to enter the shop, Stede picked up Izzy's jacket and held it up to his face. Stede could already feel the jacket sticking to his cheek thanks to the spill as he inhaled deeply.

It smelled of grapes, and the sickeningly sweet sugar from the pop, of course -- but underneath that he could make out Izzy's own scent. The buttery leather, the clove cigarettes he occasionally indulged in, and the subtle pine of his soap.

Stede could just imagine himself tucking his nose into someone's neck, a man smelling much like that gorgeous combination, and blissfully falling asleep.

Oh, to dream.

Stede ended up working for nearly thirteen hours because Gail had decided to duck out early. They had finished up every other stitch and steam at a reasonable time except for Izzy's jacket, which upon inspection, was definitely going to be quite the feat to clean. But then Gail was zipping up her purse and saying that she was going to catch the bus since Stede had been so kind to 'offer' to stay and finish Izzy's jacket so that it would be ready when he came in.

(Stede had not offered to do that, but Spanish Jackie had no qualms paying over time, and he needed the money after all.)

Stede had to admit, the satisfaction of a job well done made up for the rest of the rotten day.

In fact, he was definitely thankful for that small ray of light on such a gloomy day, because when he arrived home?

Only more bad news.

It was late, so no one was up and about. There was, however, a letter from Chauncey pinned to his door --

"Bonnet, I shall be leaving for a conference tomorrow, so you will need to be here Monday from the hours of nine until four to let the contractors in when they arrive to work on the bathroom. I contacted the best in the city, so you should be happy to know it'll hopefully only take them one day, and you can go back to your silly little tailoring job. I hope you have their money after today."

-- and on top of that, someone had eaten his last Healthy Choice meal.

With a sigh, Stede focused on taking a shower and changing into his lounge wear, and then he tried to scrounge together something for dinner.

There was always popcorn around for Pete's (usually disastrous) movie nights, and there were a few sweet and salty toppings Stede found to elevate it from a snack to a... slightly less depressing snack.

(He could not kid himself that a few M&Ms made it a meal.)

He carried the bowl out to the living room and turned on the one movie channel they got on the ancient television. He turned it up to the highest volume he could get away with before disturbing any of the other residents and settled in on the couch.

Unfortunately, since it was so late, they were showing a scary movie. Not Stede's first choice, but he couldn't be left alone with his thoughts at the moment, and he wasn't about to get butter all over one of his books.

But perhaps he should have risked it because he found himself jumping at every little noise, whether it was from the television set or outside. He quite liked the strong female lead, however, and was rooting for her so he found himself getting caught up in the movie despite it all. Even if the ghoulies were genuinely scaring him.

(And, well, the main antagonist as well, if he was being honest. He was a bully and that was almost more terrifying than a monster.)

The heroine was back in her quarters, and Stede was on the edge of his seat. Would the captain abuse his authority once again and barge in? Would any one of the many ghoulies be hiding somewhere, ready to attack?

There was a loud bang, and Stede jumped so mightily that he sent the last of his popcorn flying across the living room.

Ooh, that scare got him good.

Except... nothing had happened on the screen just yet.

Stede used the remote to turn the television's sound down until it was hardly a whisper when the real scare came.  His entire focus was on the almost rhythmic knocking that he could now hear clearly coming from the hallway. Now, if another one of the residents had accidentally locked themself out, there was no doubt that they would go to knock at the front door. There it was likely someone with a room on the first floor might hear them in case there was no one in the living room at the time.

(Which given the current time, that would have been the smart idea.)

Off of the living room, there was a hallway that led toward the basement that housed only the laundry area and a storage room. There was a set of those giant glass double doors that opened out into the rarely used skinny yard on the side of the boarding house. Rarely used because it wasn't exactly spacious but also because, being on the side of the building, the living room window of the building next door looked over it. The owners had been kind enough to hang curtains so that no nosy neighbors could spy on them.

The point however was, unless someone had decided to do a load of whites or get a two month head start on decorating for Christmas at one in the morning, Stede highly doubted anyone would be down there. He gripped the molding around the doorway and leaned forward slowly so he could look around the corner.

As suspected, there was no one there. And now, Stede swore that he didn't hear anything, so he was about to laugh his silly paranoia away and return to his movie.

That's when an arm burst through the glass, the assailant's sleeve getting tangled in the curtain, and Stede started screaming. He was undoubtedly doomed, seeing what his attacker was capable of.

As Stede watched the man (or, at least, he thought it was a man but they were covered in a thick layer of grime that it was hard to tell) slowly crawl through the hole in the glass, it dawned on him that he was no better than the victims that refused to run from the ghoulies in the movie.

He had run for his life once before --

-- he could do it again.

He stumbled at first, because he had tried to back up, but once he turned and made it for the front door? He had no issue sprinting like an Olympic athlete. He didn't notice it himself, but he continued screaming the entire time, from the living room to the front door and out to the yard.

He dashed through the grass, without a care for how the dew must be staining his house shoes. He only looked back once, and the sight of his attacker's sunken eyes was enough to make him keep his eyes straight ahead and he thankfully therefore made it as far as the gate --

-- when his attacker ran smack into his side.

Although, 'ran' was being generous. They more or less wobbled into Stede's path... and then Stede ran into them.

Still, it had caught Stede by surprise and that's why he went down like a ton of bricks.

With more grace than the attacker had demonstrated so far, they rolled over so they were on top of Stede and pinned him to the ground. Then Stede was aware of how he was screaming because the ghoulie opened its mouth and a geyser of the most putrid vomit Stede had ever had the misfortune to bear witness to sprayed all over him.

Strangely enough, the ghoulie looked taken aback by this occurrence, which led Stede to believe it hadn't expected it either.

It gave Stede enough wiggle room to get an upper hand and push his attacker off. He rolled over, got up on his feet, and began his mad dash once again. He hadn't thought about the fact that he had gotten turned around and was now heading back toward the boarding house instead of safety. Perhaps he could nail the hallway door shut and hunker down until he could rouse someone to help him fight.

That's what they did in all the movies, after all.

Stede slid across the stone walkway that led up to the stoop, and he realized that he must have lost one of his house shoes. Yes, they were ruined, but he could have fixed them! He had really liked that pair!

Stede collapsed against the door once he was inside, but only for a moment, so he could catch his breath. Then he went and slammed his body weight into the couch, hoping to blockade the hallway doors that way.

The stubborn thing wouldn't budge a damn inch.

Of course, the owner had furnished the living room with a very large sectional, and Stede should have known that he would be useless trying to move it on his own.

He could never do anything on his own!

He resigned himself to his fate, only taking solace in the possibility it would be Chauncey who would find his half eaten corpse in the morning. It would absolutely ruin his conference trip.

Stede supposed he could die as happy as possible knowing that was to be his last act on this earth.

He was wondering if he should lay down so it would be easier for the ghoulie to munch on his head when he heard light music coming from the hallway.

He couldn't very well walk over there without a weapon, even if now it seemed pretty obvious the 'monster' in his home wasn't very monstrous, so Stede picked up the only vaguely weapon shaped item he could find.

Brandishing the television remote, Stede tip-toed back over to the hallway. There he found the creature sprawled out across the floor playing with an old radio he must have discovered in the storage room. Now that Stede was closer, he could make out that the song was folk, bluegrass to be exact he noted when the banjo came in, and that answered the unspoken question of why no one had switched it out with the one in the bathroom.

"Do you like this song?" Stede asked, kneeling down, and the creature grunted softly.

Then he placed the radio on the floor and picked up a blanket he must have pulled out while he had been at it. He rubbed it against his cheek and then offered it to Stede... who tried to hide his disgust at the slime the creature's face had left behind.

It was a lovely gesture, otherwise.

"Yes, that's a rather exquisite cashmere," he told the creature, although now that they were no longer scrambling around the yard, he could tell that under the filth the creature's clothing was expensive. He probably knew more about cashmere than Stede. "You fancy a fine fabric?"

The creature grunted again, a little louder this time, and then held out his other arm so that Stede could clearly see that his hand was missing. Stede's stomach lurched as he took in the exposed wrist bone and rotting flesh around the old wound. Now, Stede was no expert, but it looked as if that had happened long before the creature had started decomposing.

As in, before he had died.

Ignoring the bile in the back of his throat, Stede met the creature halfway and gently touched his wrist.

"I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do." Shaking his arm, the creature groaned. "Oh, I can't though. I'm not a doctor, I'm a tailor. I'm not even a good tailor."

The creature made a noise in the back of his throat and slumped against the wall. Stede didn't think he could possibly have the ability to cry, but he looked as if he was about to, and Stede didn't think he could handle that.

"Hey, how about we get you in the shower? A nice shower always cheers me right up."

Stede didn't leave room for argument. Not that the creature would have been capable of arguing back, it appeared. So he led the creature upstairs to the bathroom and showed him how to operate the shower. The creature picked it up quickly and hopped in, clothes and all, and Stede left him to it. Even though his clothes would be relatively clean afterward, Stede wasn't going to let him walk around in a wet suit.

It would not only be an insult to the creature but to the suit as well.

He put together a nice, comfortable outfit that he had thought would suit the creature fine. Stede hadn't anticipated that he would actually enjoy being in his stuffy period wear, but he supposed that was his regular clothes and must be comfortable to him. He gave in to the creature's frantic gesturing and allowed him to go through the formal side of his wardrobe and try on practically everything before settling on an olive green blazer over a black button up shirt.

He looked smart.

It hadn't been as if Stede didn't trust the creature's judgement when it came to dressing himself. He hadn't been about to argue merit anyway but he had to admit he gave in because it had been a little ridiculous to be having any sort of argument with someone who was unable to speak. Miraculously, however, now that Stede was thinking about it... He hadn't been having any trouble understanding the creature. Which probably should have been alarming.

Maybe.

Stede thought it was charming, though.

"You look fantastic," he told the creature, and then sighed. "Shame we can't exactly take you anywhere. Except... where you came from?"

The creature's eyes widened as he shook his head so frantically, Stede honestly was worried it might fall off.

Like, literally fall off.

"That's alright!" Stede said so that he would stop before that became a reality. "You can stay here in my room for now. No one seems to pay much attention to anything that goes on around here if it doesn't directly involve them, so we shouldn't have to worry about anyone finding you."

The creature frowned and moaned softly.

"Oh no, it's not a big deal," Stede reassured him. "Anyway, I know we can't exactly talk, but I'm doing so much talking. People don't usually like when I do so much talking, and I would like to get to know more about you. If we could work something out..."

The creature grunted and picked up some chalk that Stede must have dropped on the ground when getting home from work and raised a brow.

Oh, yes! That was a splendid idea, except Stede didn't exactly have a chalkboard on hand. He used the chalk solely for marking where alterations were to be made on clothing. So the creature gave him an incredulous look when Stede handed him a swatch of black fabric. Stede shrugged in apology, and with a sigh that sounded unpleasantly wet, the creature started writing. Over the scratch of the chalk on cloth, Stede thought he might have heard someone moving around outside, but then the creature was handing his message back to Stede.

"My name is Ed. I was in the cemetery you passed through last night. The storm brought me back so that I could be with you."

"Oh, well that's sweet," Stede said, and then froze when the creature -- Ed -- took his hand and attempted to kiss it. "Oh. Uh, yes. I see, but listen. When I said I wish I was down there with you, I didn't mean because I wanted to be with you. I meant down there in general because I wanted to be... dead."

Stede carefully extracted his hand from Ed's and resisted the urge to wipe it on his pants.

"I think you can gather that my life is far from ideal. I was drunk and lost in my feelings. At the time, giving up seemed like the only option. I have to admit, I still have been thinking about it all day, but I'm not sure I could go through..."

Ed started to sniffle, and Stede trailed off because his stomach lurched once more. He supposed it could be a natural reaction to seeing Ed's spirits wane, but then the stench fully hit him.

"Please don't cry," he said, gagging on the words. "That smells awful. Oh, that can't be healthy... for either of us."

Unfortunately that only served to make Ed sob harder.

Before Stede was able to try and calm him down, there was a shout from the living room. They hadn't been as lucky as Stede had thought. With a reassuring squeeze to Ed's arm, he told him he'd be right back before steeling himself and heading out of his room.

A small group had gathered around the mess, and of course they had to be led by Chauncey.

"What in God's name happened here?" he was demanding as Lucius and Oluwande were carefully picking up glass so no one would cut themselves. "Can we have one day where nothing goes wrong?"

"Well, technically it's almost two in the morning," Roach pointed out from where he was leaning against the unplugged television. "So, it's been a full day since the mirror incident."

"Hello everyone. I'm okay," Stede said loudly.

No one acknowledge him. He waved his hands to get their attention, but they were too busy inspecting the damage.

"I'm fine. It was a burglar. He managed to grab a radio and a blanket, but I fought him off before he could get anything else, so there really isn't any reason to panic."

"Well, that's can't be right. If we had another radio, we would be using that one instead of the piece of shit," Lucius called over his shoulder.

Stede was about to point out that it seemed determined to play folk exclusively as well, but then Chauncey was whipping around and attempting to push Stede up against the wall like he had that morning. Or, the previous morning, that is. Stede had just enough time to clench his eyes shut, because there was no way Chauncey was going to go easy on him this time.

The blow never came.

Stede cracked open an eye and let out a sigh of relief when he saw that Oluwande had put himself between them.

"I think there's been enough violence today, don't you?" he asked.

"Yeah, and Stede just fought off a cat burglar," Lucius said with a snicker.

"It was a regular burglar," Stede corrected him with a huff. "He had on all black clothes and a black cowboy hat and even a black mask..."

Chauncey tilted his head and muttered, "That sounds like Zorro."

"What? No!"

"That does sound like Zorro," Oluwande told him.

"See?! This is what I was talking about!" Chauncey roared, and Stede was worried he was going to wake the whole boarding house. "Either this man is crazy, or he's God damned inconsiderate. Is that someone you want to live with?"

"Everyone is tired. It's been a long day. Let's not be rash now," Oluwande said with a calm Stede was amazed he could muster. Chauncey was babbling on about how he was far from rash, but Oluwande had no issues guiding him toward the staircase. "Get some sleep. Let us worry about boarding all of this up, and we can have a house meeting tomorrow to discuss how to deal with the hallway doors."

Stede didn't get to hear if Chauncey had a snappy comeback for that. Lucius was tossing the glass he had gathered into a trashcan someone must have dragged in and then herded Stede toward his room as well.

"Just... make yourself scarce for now, Stede. It's... it's for the best. Don't you think? Like, I'm staring to think that Chauncey is serious about kicking you out, at the least."

"Yes, I suppose..." Stede started to say, but Lucius had already turned around and left Stede alone again.

Except he wasn't alone, was he?

Ed must have went into Stede's closet when he heard voices outside the door, but Stede could certainly smell him. Stede hoped he had gotten over the minor rejection and wasn't going to cry through the rest of the night.

Stede had that covered -- as it were -- he thought, burying his damp face in his pillow. That should muffle the sound enough that he wasn't going to bother anyone.

Everything was going to be fine in the light of the day.

Chapter Text

Stede had never hated the sound of his alarm more than he did in that moment.

Oh, how he hoped the past 48 hours had actually been a fever dream. He was going to roll out of bed and Chauncey would only hate him the same amount, Izzy would continue to ignore his existence, and there would be no reanimated corpse hiding in his closet.

Instead, he was assaulted by clothes thrown in his face the moment he opened the closet door. It took him by surprise, but then he was focused on being honestly thankful to have his head covered. Ed didn't need to see how flat his hair was and how puffy the skin under his eyes became when a good night's sleep eluded him.

He had to emerge from the layers of cloth eventually and face reality, however, so he took a deep breath and picked up the outfit Ed had tossed at him.

Of course it all had to be clothes that Lucius had loaned him when the young man had not yet lost interest in his mission to get Stede 'back out there,' and so were the furthest thing from Stede's style. Just holding the form fitting, sheer button up shirt and leather trousers launched Stede miles from his comfort zone.

He tried to explain this to Ed, but the stubborn man only slammed the door in Stede's face.

"Ed, please open up," Stede said as he knocked on the door. "I really cannot wear this to work. It would be inappropriate."

The closet door opened once more, but only the barest amount, and a plain, white tank top came sailing out.

Stede sighed and caught it before it could hit the ground.

Well, at least he wouldn't flash every customer. Still...

"Can I at least get a belt?"

A Well Respected Man played on the radio as Stede moisturized and styled his hair. He had already gone through the rest of his morning routine and gotten dressed, so he was just putting on the finishing touches. The confidence that had already been instilled in him was purely magical. Despite everything, he managed to walk back down the stairs and into the dining room with his head held high.

Lucius and Frenchie were there, eating what looked like the last of the Special K that Stede had bought, but he didn't get a chance to be upset about more of his food being pilfered. Lucius looked up from his bowl and honest to goodness clapped when he saw Stede.

"Oh my God, you're wearing the shirt from Empower! You look deadly, doesn't he Frenchie?"

Frenchie had his nose stuck in a book on Egyptology and only hummed in response.

Stede decided to not take it personally.

"Oh, well... thank you, Lucius."

"The men of Brookeview are headed to Bonertown, and they don't even know it."

Blushing furiously, Stede muttered, "You didn't have to word it like that."

"Yeah, I didn't need that visual," Frenchie added.

"Well, excuse me for hyping up our boy," Lucius said as if Stede didn't have a good 20-ish years on the both of them. "Hey, looks like you're on your way out. Obviously. Would you mind giving me a lift? I'm covering a shift at Spanish Jackie'z Infushion Cuisine."

Lucius never had one job for long, hopping from business to business, so he always referred to a day's work as covering a shift. Stede didn't know how he did it without exhausting himself, but then again, he was still disillusioned when it came to how the lower class lived.

He had to learn faster, he knew, and sure. One could say Lucius was taking advantage of him, but giving his friend a ride and having a lovely conversation on the way could help.

"Yeah, it's on my way so it won't be a problem," Stede said.

Not that it mattered much. Lucius was already standing up and cleaning up his mess.

Oh, and Stede could not help but notice that limp.

"Oh my God. What happened to your leg? Are you alright?"

"My leg?" Lucius asked and then blushed. "Oh, yeah. My leg. Hiking accident," he said as if he ever did any physical activities that weren't carnal.

Oh.

The image of Lucius sitting in Pete's lap the other day flashed before Stede's eyes, and he knew all too well what had happened.

"Right. Hiking. Well, I have a donut pillow in the car if you need it," Stede told him, and Lucius slapped his shoulder as Frenchie dramatically stuck his fingers in his ears and started singing.

"I hate both of you!" Lucius declared and headed for the front door.

Stede followed, and his stomach dropped as a wave of deja vu washed over him. There was another resident, one he didn't know well although he recognized his face, sitting on the porch bench. The same spot where Stede remembered being sick and...

...and, oh God. Something terrible had happened.

Lucius waved to the man and said, "Hey, Wellington."

"Hello Spriggs. Hello Bonnet," the man replied, and there was no mistaking that voice.

The vile man even knew Stede's name, saying it with such disdain, and Stede suddenly felt very uncomfortable wearing such revealing clothing.

He never could have anything, could he?

Stede had asked Ed to try and be as scarce as possible before he had left for work, but Ed decided he couldn't stay cooped up in the closet all day.

He hadn't come out of the closet while he had been alive, thus having to upend his entire life and move to another country in order to be safe, only to be forced back in he thought with a chuckle.

Or, well, what should have been a chuckle, but he must have dirt in his lungs from crawling out of his grave. What happened instead was a rattling wheeze punctuated by some dust.

Ed supposed he could live without the vocal organs working properly. He and Stede had been able to communicate just fine the previous night, and he was sure his love would purchase the materials necessary so they could continue conversing that way with ease.

No, it was his hand and the ear that was missing as well that he mourned the loss of. There was no way he could woo Stede with a romantic song when he was like this.

Oh, but then...

Did Stede even have a piano?

Ed knew that Stede made it clear that no one else in the boarding house could see him, but it sounded as if everyone had left for the day, and Ed was starting to go a little stir crazy.

Even after having left the closet and exploring the rest of Stede's room.

He figured he could do a quick search and be back in the room with no one the wiser.

So Ed tip-toed as quietly as he could down the stairs and around the the first floor of the boarding house. Granted, it was hardly tip-toeing, but at least it was quiet enough. He was finding it rather hard to walk after not using his muscles for two centuries, but growing up with his father, he had no trouble being light footed.

Unfortunately, his little adventure was to no avail.

There was no piano.

It turned out that Ed had seen most of the first floor the previous night. All he had missed was a kitchen and a dining room. Similar enough to the boarding house Ed had lived in once he had immigrated to the States. If there were to be a piano to be found, he had assumed it would be in the sitting room, but no. There was only the contraption that Stede had been sitting in front of when Ed had arrived.

Ed was about to admit defeat and return to Stede's room, when there was the tell-tale sound of someone descending the staircase. He would have to pass by the foot of the stairs in order to get to Stede's room, or the rest of the downstairs area for that matter.

That left him the kitchen and dining room, but it was still morning, even if it was rather late morning. There was a high chance whoever would be coming to make breakfast.

Should Ed jump out a window, then?

One of the stairs creaked particularly loudly, and Ed hobbled over to the nearest window to throw it open, but that's when he saw the door. There was one more room that he had missed!

A music room!

As soon as Ed opened the door, he zeroed in on that fact. Instruments as far as the eye could see!

He couldn't help himself from running his fingers along the guitar in the stand near the entrance. Looking around, there were so many instruments he had never seen before. His heart hurt for a moment as he thought about all the music that he had missed while he had been gone, but he mustn't dwell on that. Especially not when he happened upon a flat instrument on another stand... that had keys!

A piano!

Or, well... piano adjacent.

The point was, he could play it.

Whoever was in the kitchen was making quite a racket, so Ed pulled the piano closer to the sofa so he could sit down and practice a few scales with his one hand.

There was a slight difference in the sound, but there was the beautiful music he knew so well. Ed could have lost himself in it, but there was a knock at the front door, and the resident who had been rudely going about his morning answered.

That grating voice cut right through Ed's soul.

That was the voice that had threatened his love the previous night!

Grunting with the effort, Ed rushed into the kitchen, pleased to find a plate with a selection of fruit and some grain arranged on it. It took a few good heaves, but he was able to force a millipede that had taken up residence in his lungs up, and it landed onto the plate.

Feeling rather pleased with himself, Ed snuck back into Stede's room with a promise to return to the piano when he could.

For the time being, that horrible man's screaming was music enough to his ears.

Gail, of course, had made a big deal over Stede's outfit.

Complimenting him but in a condescending way, as he now realized was her way. He wasn't about to let her rain on his parade, though. He had recovered from seeing the man, Wellington, once he remembered that Izzy would be coming in to pick up his jacket.

Since it was Gail's actual day to go home early, Stede was able to send her off without hearing too many comments such as 'where did this come from' and if his 'young friends were influencing' him. Stede nearly walked Gail to the door himself when it was time for her to clock out, and then he was far too giddy to get much work done as he waited.

He made sure to pay attention to every customer who walked into the shop that day. Granted, it wasn't many, being a Sunday, but he needed to be prepared and not caught off guard this time.

The moment he saw Izzy walk in, he tossed his magnifying glasses across the counter and smoothed out his shirt.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you?" he asked, and waited for the ground to swallow him whole.

Of course he would already ruin everything.

Izzy didn't seem to notice, or rather, care that Stede was being overly formal. He appeared to be checking Stede out, of all things! It was more than Stede could have ever hoped for. He had thought that with his confidence boost, he'd finally have a normal conversation with Izzy and work on him not hating Stede, and he would have been happy with that.

He shouldn't have been so quick to dismiss Lucius's input.

"Oh. Hi... Stede. Did you... did you make that shirt. It's..."

"What? This old thing?" Stede asked with a scoff. "No. Not that I couldn't. I'm pretty fantastic at sewing, actually."

Izzy smiled.

"I have noticed," he said. "I like the designs you stitch onto your jackets."

Stede fought the urge to correct Izzy. It was embroidery, not stitching!

But the point was to stop their bickering. Stede had to remember that, and that everything else was a bonus.

"Thank you," he replied through only partially gritted teeth. "You'll be happy to know, then, I worked that same magic on your jacket."

Izzy must have been so pleased with that news that it left him speechless. Stede patted Izzy's hand and opened the counter door.

"I'll just pop into the back and get that for you, if you want to leave your ticket there for me."

Stede practically pranced off to the back room, afraid to look back and thus ruin the illusion. He had left Izzy's leather jacket first on the rack that was right next to the entryway, but he took a moment to collect himself. Izzy would think Stede was searching for it, and Stede could finally stop sticking his foot in his mouth after a moment to himself. He counted out a full minute and, then with a deep breath, he walked back out with a flourish. He whirled Izzy's jacket around as he held onto the hanger before draping it across his forearm.

"See? All better."

Izzy glanced up and muttered, "Oh, thank God," and Stede was reminded more so of his counterpart Jack.

"Yes, well, here you go," he muttered and shoved the jacket at Izzy's chest.

"Hey! I just... You had me worried there for a second that you had stitched a fairy or something on the lining. Suits you, but me? Not so much."

"Ah. Yes. Sorry for the, uh, misunderstanding, then. But, if you'll excuse me... I have some trousers I need to hem."

"Yeah. Yeah, course. Thanks for getting this done so fast, and... I'll, uh... I'll see you around the house, I s'ppose."

Stede waited until he saw Izzy make it down the block and then he turned the shop's sign to closed for a solid twenty minutes so he could recover from that entire interaction.

Still, that had actually gone rather well, he thought.

Things were even slower after that, and once Stede started to question why he had bothered to switch the sign back over, he decided to close up shop. It ended up giving him plenty of time to make a stop at the craft store he frequented without worrying too much about Ed.

Seeing that the boarding house was still standing when he pulled into the parking lot, he wondered why he had been worrying at all.

With a pep in his step, Stede headed inside with the pleasure of knowing he wouldn't have to deal with Chauncey for several days, and went to tell Ed all about his day now that he had an actual chalkboard for him to write on.

Underneath the stringy hair and the pale green taut skin, Stede could see that Ed's eyes lit up when he saw everything that Stede had purchased for him.

(Because Stede hadn't stopped at the chalkboard. He was a maximum materialist, and he had been in a good mood, so he couldn't help from splurging.)

On top of the chalkboard, he had bought Ed some easy craft kits so he could entertain himself with something besides reading Stede's books as well as some fabric so that Stede could make a new cravat for him.

"There certainly is no salvaging the one you were buried in," Stede explained, playing with the edge of the fabric between two of his fingers. "And I can't afford to buy you all new clothes, so you'll have to continue borrowing mine. Still, you deserve something of your own plus something familiar. You can tell me what style you liked the most, and I'll try my best to make one. Can't be too different from an ascot, and I made my fair share of those back in the day."

Ed grunted happily. In his excitement, he almost knocked over the bag of pretzels Stede had brought into his room to snack on, but despite how sluggishly he moved? He managed to catch the bag with his one hand before they could go spilling across the floor.

"Oh brilliant Ed! With your fine motor skills improving like this maybe we won't have to hide you all day."

Ed let out a long groan, and Stede frowned.

"We had to! Not everyone would be as excepting as me!"

Ed grunted three times in quick succession as he gestured toward the window.

"Now why would you want to come to work with me? That would have to be even more boring than sitting here all day."

Ed stared at him.

"I told you! I had to hem some trousers for Mr. Rosali, one of our regulars. Had some more prom dresses picked up. That was it. It was so slow that I closed up early. You didn't miss much of anything."

Ed continued to stare.

"Alright. So Izzy also came in to pick up his jacket we cleaned. He's another resident here. He's handsome, but he's an asshole. Lucius says that doesn't matter. We can just 'hook up,' but I don't think that's my style. Things with Nigel probably should have put me off of dating, but I'm still a romantic at heart, I guess. I want to fall in love."

Ed let out a huff.

"You of all people should understand that," Stede said with a huff of his own.  "Weren't you all romantics during your time?"

Before Ed could (most likely) roll his eyes, there was a banging on Stede's door.

"I know you're in there Bonnet!" Chauncey yelled from the other side, and Stede gasped. "Yes, I can hear you talking to yourself like the certifiable case that you are, so let. Me. In."

"Fuck. What is Chauncey still doing home?" Stede muttered, but there wasn't time to dwell on that question. Pushing Ed back into the closet, Stede smoothed out his shirt as he made his way over to the door. The last thing he ever wanted to do was open that door in that moment, but summoning the last ounce of his newfound courage, he turned the knob. "Hello Chauncey. I thought you would have left for your trip already."

"Oh, don't play coy with me," Chauncey sneered. "You know I was unable to, because I was sick. In fact, I had to cancel my whole trip. And do you know why?"

First it was that Stede obviously knew what was going on. Now he was being quizzed, implying Chauncey knew he had no clue what was going on. Could Chauncey just make up his mind?

Was Stede secretly an evil genius or the dumbest creature to ever walk God's green Earth?

"Balanitis?" Stede suggested.

"No. I had to miss this incredibly important trip because someone thought it would be amusing to put a live millipede in my breakfast."

Stede didn't want to admit it, but he almost laughed at that revelation. Thankfully, the menacing way Chauncey was stalking forward, gripped him with enough fear to prevent that from happening.

"I saved that millipede. Or what was left of it, anyway, and with that evidence I am going to make sure you go away for a long time."

Stede took a step back as Chauncey began to advance on him.

"No."

"Oh yes."

Another step.

"You can't!"

"I can. For the safety of everyone here! Inpatient."

Yet another step.

"I didn't do anything."

"Lockdown."

Stede's back hit the wall of his room.

"Chauncey, please."

"Special socks."

Stede felt tears start to cascade down his face.

"I can't..."

"A place where a psychopath like you bel..."

Chauncey trailed off with the most horrifying guttural sound Stede had ever heard in his life. He hadn't realized he had been clenching his eyes shut and he was greeted with the most titillating sight when he cracked one eye open.

Ed had left the closet, but not empty handed. He had found Stede's personal sewing machine and had struck Chauncey across the back of the head. Stede was able to witness Chauncey's eyes roll back just as blood started to drip onto the carpet.

Stede took one last step back so that he wouldn't be in the way once Chauncey collapsed to the floor like a tower of books that had been knocked over.

Perhaps Stede was a psychopath, like Chauncey had said, because all he could feel was pure euphoria as he watched that odious man take his last breath. However, it would have been uncouth to be too obvious about how pleased he was with this turn of events, so he hid his smile in Ed's shoulder when the other man had stumbled forward to hold him.

Alright, so there was a possibility that Stede was actually affected by what happened. He had been taking Ed's comfort for granted because he was shaking when Ed let go, went over to the desk, and grabbed the sheers that Stede kept there. Then he started fully crying when Ed fell to his knees so he could start cutting away at Chauncey's ear. The sound was wet and loud in the room, and Stede couldn't escape the reality.

Chauncey was dead.

They had killed him.

Then Ed was limping over to him, holding Chauncey's ear out to him.

"Ed? What..."

Ed held the ear up near his head, and a sob caught in Stede's throat.

"Oh, I can't, Ed," he whispered. He glanced back down to the body sprawled across the floor, and suddenly he had a burst of something even stronger than confidence. He felt like he could do anything. "I can't. Not until we bury the body."

Chapter Text

Stede shouldn't have been surprised that Ed led him back to the abandoned cemetery where he had been buried. It certainly made the most sense to bury Chauncey there. No one would think to look in the grave of a 100-odd year old corpse for a fresh murder victim.

If they even suspected murder.

As Stede drove them the four blocks to the cemetery, he hatched the plan.

Chauncey had been scheduled to go on a work trip, after all. Stede would get Chauncey's key from his person before they threw him in the grave. Then, when they got back to the boarding house, he would grab his suitcase that he had originally packed for the trip, toss it into Chauncey's car,and drive it into the lake. Then the two logical conclusions would be he either decided to abandon his life and start over, which, alright. That was a bit of a stretch for a gentleman with a great career, but it was plausible.

And the second conclusion which was, of course, kidnapping. Or trafficking, he supposed, would be the term to use in case of an adult.

Someone out there must think Chauncey was handsome enough to take.

If one wanted to split hairs, Stede had at one point in his life. Chauncey and Nigel had been identical --

-- if you ignored Chauncey's unfortunate hairline.

Stede and Ed had to drag Chauncey's body further than Stede would have liked, but of course the cemetery didn't have a road. Stede hated the idea of leaving identifiable tire treads more than working up a sweat, so.

Dragging the body.

And with only one hand, Ed wasn't much help.

He wasn't much help with shoveling the displaced dirt back into the grave to cover up the body, either.

By the time Stede was done with the quite literal dirty deed, Lucius's shirt was destroyed.

Oh, and Stede had blisters, but he was more concerned about the clothes. He could never return this shirt now! Not only would Lucius despise him, but it was so embarrassing. He was the clothes guy!

When Ed saw the blisters, he whimpered softly and offered Stede a handkerchief.

It was embroided with his initials, so he must have had it in his burial suit and had attempted to wash it when he had taken his shower. Unfortunately, it still looked like a bio-hazard. Stede held it by the corner with his fingertips and thanked Ed, regardless.

"Is it peaceful? Down there?" he asked after a moment.

Ed was quiet, the only sound the chirp of the crickets hidden in the grass. Stede looked over to him, ready to apologize for the rather personal question, when Ed shook his head.

Stede couldn't help the grin that broke out across his face.

"Good." Ed huffed out what Stede assumed was a laugh. "Alright. Let's go stitch you up."

It was nearly as late as it had been when Stede stumbled home on Friday night when they finally arrived back at the boarding house, so they didn't have to worry about being seen sneaking in. Stede enacted his plan after squirreling Ed away in his own room, and then he retrieved the ear where they had stored it in a cup of ice, and prepared for the operation.

If one could call it an operation.

Stede was sewing the ear onto Ed's head the same way he would have sewn a patch over a hole in a pair of pants. There was more resistance than sewing fabric, naturally, but no worse than leather.

Which made sense, once Stede thought about it.

Then he tried not to think about it because (despite everything that had happened in the past two days) it was making him nauseous.

He focused on the thread: pulling it through Ed's sickly looking skin, tying it off at several points so that it would hold strong, making a little flower at the end so that Ed would have something to remember him by.

It was easy work once he had grown accustomed to having a breathing canvas. When he was finished, he handed Ed his mirror so he could access his new appendage. Ed tried to shake his hair to the side, and Stede cursed himself for being so inconsiderate. He quickly reached over and held the offending follicles and Ed hummed softly as he admired Stede's handiwork.

"Glad you approve," Stede said with a smile. "Does it work, though? It would be fantastic if it was functional as well as stylish."

Ed snorted out a laugh, but ultimately shook his head.

"Damn it!" Stede cried, throwing himself onto the bed. His feet must have dragged across the carpet as he had shuffled close enough so he could fall safely, because when his arm accidentally hit Ed on his way down, there was enough of a static shock to cause a visible spark.

Ed grunted and then his eyes went wide.

"I know," Stede said sheepishly. "I'm sorry about that. And I'm sorry about your ear."

Ed groaned as he pointed to his new ear excitedly.

Stede pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could get a good look at Ed.

"Wait. Does it work now? It works?!"

Grabbing the chalkboard, Ed drew a giant lightning bolt, and Stede gasped.

"Oh, but of course! The lightning storm brought you back. Electricity! I'm not a scientist, but I suppose that makes sense."

Unable to contain himself, Stede sat up further and leaned in close so he could whisper into Ed's new ear, "Hello Edward."

Ed shivered.

"Oh, this is so wonderful. This... gives me an idea. This..." The wheels turning around in his head, Stede jumped up and started gathering what he was going to need. Ed raised a brow, but Stede didn't have time to explain. "I'll have to find out which room is his, but Izzy could help with that. And anything I don't have lying around, I'm sure we can find in the storage room. It seems there's actually an abundance of useful things in there."

'What are you scheming?' Ed wrote on the chalkboard, and Stede saw as he walked over to his desk to compose a note.

Once he had put pen to paper, he glanced over his shoulder and winked at Ed.

"You'll see."

Stede's outfit the following morning was to die for.

The suit pants were his own --

-- but an older pair that had shrunk, but that only meant they hugged his ass perfectly.

The shirt was another one borrowed from Lucius, however. It was a soft tee that had been cropped about two inches from the waist. Not as high as some of the shirts Stede had seen Lucius wearing, but there was enough to flash a tantalizing peak of Stede's stomach. It was a lovely pastel pink, which was unusual for Lucius's usual color palette, but fit Stede perfectly.

Complimented by his flower patterned tennis shoes and his favorite rings, Stede felt unstoppable.

Of course the radio was playing a folk song as Stede fixed his hair. Overcome with that addictive confidence once again, he styled it in a much more fun way than he normally did, which called for a better soundtrack than a banjo.

In his head, Adam Ant sang ("I've seen him in the streets, and I've seen him in the pictures. Killer in the home... killer in the home... Now's the time I must digress from going through the motions.") as he finished getting ready. He continued to hum the tune as he delivered the note he had written for Izzy, sliding it under his door, along with a second note -- that if all went according to plan, the recipient should receive while Stede was at work.

Ed didn't look happy when Stede left, but it wasn't as if Stede was making him hide away in the room all day again. It was only until all the other residents who worked day shift were gone for the day, so he could leave for the cemetery without being seen.

It was more important than ever that he wasn't seen now that they had put Stede's plan into motion. They had been so careful that it would be such a shame if they ruined it now.

If Stede had thought yesterday morning had moved slowly, it was slower than molasses today! It was Gail's day off, and Stede only needed to get to the afternoon, and then he could close the shop a little early and make it to the park that he had chosen as a meeting spot.

Since he had a feeling going straight to the cemetery wouldn't be appealing.

There was a high possibility the Brookeview population believed the land to be haunted, and well. Stede couldn't exactly blame them considering recent events.

In fact, he was grateful to not be waiting among the tombstones in case a bored ghost decided to pester him. Especially when he wasn't 100% sure who he was waiting for would show up. He could be waiting for quite some time before admitting that he had been stood up.

Stede had put his trust in Izzy to forget every awkward encounter and, as a favor, deliver the note.

Despite everything, Stede believed Izzy to be a good person deep down. Or, at least, a person who wanted to do the right thing. As long as Jack hadn't broken the rules, stayed the night, and had thrown the notes away before Izzy got to it.

Though, now that Stede was thinking about it, he hadn't seen Jack around since the party on Friday night, and normally Jack came over every single day.

Stede didn't have time to dwell on it.

A shadow blocked out the sun, that had been shining down on Stede where he had been lounging on a bench, eyes closed against the dangerous rays. He smiled, proclaiming "You came!" before getting up to greet...

...Wellington.

The man looked even more vile than he had the morning before. Walking around in the beautiful park without a care in the world, when in reality he was spreading his slime everywhere he went.

Pretending that he was genuinely happy to see the man was perhaps one of the hardest things Stede ever had to do. He drew the line at holding Wellington's hand when he offered. Despite that, Stede thought he had done a decent enough job at being convincing.

The walk to 'a much more private place' so they could 'talk' was quick. Wellington almost continued to walk right on past the gates, and he gave Stede quite the side eye when he informed Wellington that the cemetery was indeed their destination.

"Don't tell me you're scared," Stede said, popping his hip out in what he hoped was a suggestive pose. "We certainly won't be interrupted in there."

Wellington glanced up at the corroded sign above the gate and licked his lips.

"No. I don't suppose we will," he said quietly, and with that, the hardest part of Stede's job was done.

Now it was Ed's turn to shine.

Stede led Wellington up to where the dirt was still freshly turned over and then stood as close to him as he could stomach.

"As my note said, I had been partying quite hard and almost didn't remember what happened at first. Which would have been a real shame, because then how could we recreat it now that I've got you right where I want you?"

Wellington grinned lavishly and flexed his fingers, brushing against the hairs on Stede's forearm.

"Oh, I just knew you were gagging for it," he said with a sneer. "Been left alone too long, and it's got you acting like a slut."

Stede could hear a low growl coming from behind Ed's tombstone. He was surprised that Wellington apparently couldn't, but Stede better hurry up or otherwise they'd lose the element of surprise.

"Yes, such a slut for it," he replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I need you to touch me again like you did on Friday."

Wellington closed the last few centimeters between them, hand landing on Stede's crotch, and Stede's stomach lurched. Thankfully that's when Ed shambled out from his hiding spot as fast as he could, the axe they had found in the storage room in hand.

Stede let out a delighted laugh, and Wellington? The ignoramus thought it was for him. He didn't even notice the figure creeping up behind him until it was too late.

Ed brought the axe down on his wrist, the hand falling to the ground as blood sprayed all across Stede's front. Where it hit on his stomach was so hot it felt as if it was going to burn the skin.

Brand him, with the evidence of how he had sinned.

Well, he had never given all of that much thought, so he didn't think his soul was worth saving.

He cheered as he dropped down into a crouch his knees would yell at him for later and grabbed the hand. He was so focused on their prize that Wellington was able to push past him and make a run for the exit.

"Oh, Ed, darling. Don't let him get away," Stede said.

Ed groaned, shuffling forward uneasily before deciding against that plan of attack. Instead, he pulled his arm back and let the axe go sailing through the air. A fantastic alternative it proved when the weapon struck right in the middle of Wellington's back, up high between his shoulder blades. He fell down in a pile of rotted leaves from the autumn, everything quiet and as clean as it could be. Stede shivered as he observed how similar it all was to Chauncey's death.

How, in the end, we're all just tissue and bone.

It was a revelation that Stede decided he was certainly not equipped to deal with in the present moment.

Instead, he watched raptly as Ed walked over to the body and ripped the axe free from Wellington's back. He wiped it off on Wellington's shirt and then returned it to the loop Stede had sewn onto his belt for the occasion.

Stede wasn't exactly off put by what they had done, and yet he felt about ready to crawl out of his skin. He told himself it must be nerves kicking in, worrying about the small possibility of getting caught. He joined Ed by the body, grabbed Wellington's ankles, and started to drag him back over to Ed's grave. Ed moaned, but Stede ignored him. All that mattered was getting the body hidden and getting out of there, and it would honestly have been great if Ed left him to do so alone.

You know, since he wasn't exactly much help the last time they had to hide a body.

It was hard to continue ignoring Ed, however, when he hobbled in front of Stede with a long, drawn out moan.

"Just let me take care of this, and then we can..."

Stede trailed off, staring at Ed. To get a good look at his new ear, of course! Just studying his own work! There was nothing wrong with that!

Ed grunted softly, but he gave Stede his space.

With a sigh, Stede muttered a quiet, "Sorry."

Ed gestured to Wellington's body and moaned.

"No, I'm alright. I just..." Stede leaned in and bumped his shoulder against Ed's. "I can't wait to, uh, give you a hand."

Ed groaned.

"No, it was absolutely hilarious, and you know it was."

They had timed everything perfectly. It was past dinner when they arrived back at the boarding house, as planned. Those with third shifts were gone, as well as anyone with an active night life, and most everyone else was in their own room. There was Roach and John in the living room watching a game show, but they were so invested in solving the puzzle that they didn't even look up when Stede and Ed came in.

Stede locked the door of his room behind them and then put a towel along the floor to sound proof the room as best as he could.

Even though that shouldn't be an issue.

The most Ed could do as the needle pierced his skin was grunt, and once Stede got into the rhythm, it was fast work. He had already done this once before, after all. One could even say he was the world's leading expert on sewing new body parts onto corpses!

That was no substitute for bed side manner, however, so Stede kept talking as he sewed. A stream of consciousness about everything he had been bottling up for the last year.

How he wished Mary's family would have let them keep in touch.

How despite everything he missed Nigel.

How he didn't know what else he could do to get the other residents to accept him as 'one of the gang.'

The time flew by, at least for Stede, since he wasn't the one being constantly prodded by a needle most likely. With a flourish, Stede finished with his signature flower and then sat back so he could make sure that everything looked perfect.

Ed let out a long, deep moan and Stede preened.

"Why, thank you, Ed. But we're only half way there. You ready for the shock?"

Ed nodded rather enthusiastically, and Stede laughed as he started to rub his feet on the carpet. He gave it a good minute before he touched Ed's new hand with his fingertips, thinking a hand was much larger than an ear. It might need a little extra spark.

And he wasn't wrong.

Ed's hand lay there, limp, and his eyes started to well up with those noxious tears.

"No, no, no. Don't cry. Please don't cry," Stede said, trying to discreetly pinch his nose. "Don't worry just yet. I have an idea."

Stede quickly dashed up the stairs and into the, fortuitously free, bathroom. He grabbed the radio from the counter, but froze for a moment when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

His hair was standing on end, and he was covered in blood and dirt from his midsection down. Several of his nails were cracked, and he had a wild look in his eyes.

Tell him why he thought he looked good, though.

Still, he set the radio down for a moment so he could clean himself with a washcloth (that he made a mental note to burn, along with his clothes from the past two days) and ran a brush through his hair before returning to his room with his prize.

Ed glared at him, but Stede refused to feel bad.

"What if I had run into someone on the way back? It's one thing to be stealing the radio, but if I looked like a madmen whilst doing so, I don't think they'd let me get away with it."

Ed rolled his eyes, causing a foul smelling puss to ooze out.

Stede gagged slightly while he plugged in the radio.

"This thing has been on the fritz forever," Stede explained as Jim Croce began to sing, "Yeah, I know it's kinda strange. Every time I'm near you, I just run out of things to say." "So I think it should do the trick if you would just... Ah yes."

Ed had picked up the radio and was inspecting the wire.

"You got it in one," Stede told him as he found the sheers where Ed had dropped them the previous day and handed them over. "So, you're going to cut that."

Ed looked from the wire, that he had wrapped around his currently useless hand, to the sheers to Stede -- and then cycled back again.

"Yeah, the electrical current is in the..."

Ed grunted loudly in offense, and Stede held his hands up.

"You never gave me an exact date or anything! I wouldn't know how extensive your knowledge about electricity is!"

Ed let out a huff, but there was a small smile hidden behind the curtain of his hair that Stede just managed to catch. Of course Ed was here yanking his chain at such a serious time as this. Before Stede could chastise him for it, Ed lifted his arm so he could pull the cord taut, and as Jim crooned, "Every time I tried to tell you, the words just came out wrong, so I'll have to say 'I love you' in a song," he snipped the cord.

The room went silent for a split second, and then electricity crackled in the air. There was a faint blue glow illuminating Ed's arm where the cord was curled, and Stede could see the ring finger on the new hand begin to twitch.

Ed moaned loudly in excitement just as the strongest surge yet went pulsating through him, causing the power to go out. Distantly, Stede could hear Roach and John yelling from the living room, but he couldn't bring himself to care when Ed was now wiggling all of his fingers freely.

It had...

"Worked! Oh, it worked! It worked!" Stede exclaimed, clapping.

Ed joined in, the severed cord whipping around, and Stede had to duck down so he didn't go and get himself electrocuted as well.

Although they should have been safe at that point.

Probably.

Someone slammed the front door so violently, Stede's array of knick knacks rattled in place. Stede couldn't bring himself to worry, however, because Ed was offering Stede his new hand. While he was flattered, he had never been a good dancer. He didn't want to embarrass himself in front of Ed, so he attempted to decline.

Ed wasn't having any of that.

He swept Stede up in his arms and spun him around the room, humming the song they had just been listening to. Stede couldn't help the giggles that erupted from him. It ended up taking his breath away when Ed dipped him. It was all too much, and he was going to ask Ed for mercy once he could talk again, when Ed stopped because the lights blinked back on.

Still holding onto Stede, he tried to drag him out the door.

"Ed, we can't. Roach and John," Stede protested.

Reluctantly, he let Stede go and grabbed the chalkboard so he could scribble, "They left when the power went out."

Ah, yes. That was a fair assumption.

It still was a risky move, but Stede didn't have time to argue. Ed had grabbed his hand once again and led him from his room straight to the rec room, which gave Stede cause to worry. Ed clearly knew it was there, which meant he had been sneaking around while Stede had been at work. Up until that point, it hadn't occurred to Stede that they could possibly be caught, yet now his filthy clothes felt stifling.

Like a death sentence.

He couldn't wait to burn them.

And a shower sounded perfect right about then.

This was the best moment of both of Ed's lives combined, and he had lost Stede.

His love was standing there beside him, but he was miles away.

Ed didn't think it was because he was plagued with guilt for what they had done. That Wellington man had seemed like a right arse, but the again, Stede wasn't dead. He had a life outside the four walls of the boarding house, and killing someone certainly changed things.

(That Chauncey fellow didn't count. It had been a crime of passion, although Ed didn't regret it, and Stede could have never seen it coming.)

Ed just had to help Stede get his mind off of everything.

He pointed to the thin piano with his new hand, and Stede nodded absent mindedly.

Ed grunted, and that got him Stede's full attention. So he pointed to the piano once more.

"Oh, you play?" Stede asked.

Ed smiled so widely that the skin around his mouth cracked open and coagulated blood oozed out.

Stede didn't turn away in disgust, so Ed was going to count that as a positive advancement in his courtship.

Time to woo Stede even further. Ed flipped the tails of his coat out of habit, although they weren't long enough to accidentally sit on. Once he was comfortably on the couch, Ed set his fingers on the keys and had to choke down the tidal wave of emotions threatening to overcome him. He could do the one thing he loved more than anything else in the world, and he could do it for the man he loved.

He had performed under duress before, in much worse circumstances, so there was no reason he couldn't give the best performance.

Even if he hadn't played any of his music for 150 years.

Give or take.

The music flowed through his fingertips as if no time had passed at all. He had put his soul into the piece when composing it, and performing it now for Stede, it was as if it breathed new life into him.

Ed let the music take over, and while this was for Stede, Ed realized now that it was just as much for him. He was transported back in time to the club he attended at the medical college back home, to saving up for a one way trip to the Americas, to leaving his beloved Aotearoa.

Playing on an unfamiliar piano reminded him of the countless hours he played for the rich Americans at their parties that he had been able to make a name for himself. Soon he was the rich man throwing parties that society pretended to find titillating, gathering around Ed's pride and joy, as some other currently nameless musician played for them.

Ed would never kid himself.

He had lived a good life.

He had no choice to be cautious, however. He had taken many risks, but they were always calculated.

Given this second chance, he had no choice but to live how he wanted. He had known that the minute he had been brought back, and hehad immediately went after what he wanted.

Stede.

Ed finished the piece with a flourish and finally opened his eyes to see Stede's reaction.

Stede's face was flushed and his mouth was hanging open. It must have taken a moment for it to register that the song was over, but he quickly composed himself and started clapping.

"Oh, Ed, that was beautiful. Did you compose it yourself?"

Ed smiled and nodded.

Expecting higher praise after that admission, he was surprised when Stede's face fell.

"You had a whole life," he said.

Oh, curses!

Why hadn't he brought the chalkboard with him?

He longed to tell Stede to not fret over him. Stede couldn't have done anything to prevent Ed's premature demise. In fact, Ed believed Stede played a part in bringing him back whether he knew it or not, so the last thing he should be doing was wallowing in guilt.

Ed owed him everything, but all he could do was point to Stede in turn.

"Huh, me?" Stede asked, scratching the back of his head. "I suppose so. It's not exactly the same as writing beautiful music."

Ed tugged on the cravat Stede had made him with a grunt, but it was clear Stede wasn't good at taking a compliment.

They could come back to this later.

Ed gestured to the sheet music, and Stede shrugged.

"That's Frenchie's," He explained. "Most of the instruments in here are, but one or two are the Swedish gentleman's. And the exercise bike is Lucius's but he never uses it."

Now that Stede mentioned it, Ed had to admit that one of the unidentified 'instruments' looked like a bicycle with smaller wheels and then several weights on the bottom.

"I never learned an instrument. Father didn't approve of the arts. Teaching myself to sew in private had been difficult enough."

Ed tried his best not to cry and have Stede run away, but the admission hurt him almost personally.

Stede deserved a life where he could express himself.

Ed flipped through the sheets until he found one with lyrics and then patted the spot next to him on the couch.

"Oh no," Stede said, shaking his head. "I don't sing."

Ed was having none of that. With a groan, he started to play despite Stede's protests. Sure, he supposed Stede could refuse to sing, but he knew Stede well enough after the past few days. He wouldn't be so rude as to leave Ed high and dry.

He was a gentleman.

Right on cue, Stede came in -- tentative at first, but getting louder as they went along.

"As the light hits you. As you shift along the floor. I find it hard to place my face. How did I come to be here, anyway? It's terribly vague, what's gone before. I could have been anyone. You could have been anyone's dream. Why did you have to choose our moment? Why did you have to make me feel that? Why did you make it so unreal?"

Ed couldn't dare to imagine why Stede 'didn't sing,' because his voice was lovely. It complimented the piano music so well, and it was made for the song that Ed had chosen. It was already a haunting performance, but in the best possible way. Stede had gained confidence and sang the chorus with so much gusto that Ed had no choice but to up his own performance.

As they approached the second verse, Stede stood up and Ed wheezed out an approving chuckle. It didn't take long for Stede to start really start moving around, and Ed almost missed his cue several times because he couldn't take his eyes off him.

"All the colors look brighter now. Everything they say seems to sound new. Slipping into tomorrow too quick. Yesterday always too good to forget. Stop the swing of the pendulum. Let us through. Oh, to be in love, and never get out again. Oh, to be in love, and never get out again. Oh, to be in love, and never get out again."

Ed had only been able to hold out for so long. He was freely crying now, and Stede was doing that thing again... trying to hold his nose discreetly (as if Ed couldn't see it). Ed didn't want to take it personally. He was a rotting corpse, so getting to share these moments with Stede meant everything. He could deal with a natural human reaction to an awful smell.

With a final sniff, Stede insisted they head back to his room before Roach and John realized the power was back on and returned, or the evening shift residents started to trickle in at the end of their day.

They had made so much progress, and Ed really hoped that he wouldn't be regulated to sleeping in the closet, but Stede didn't offer up the floor (or better yet, the unused side of his bed) and Ed didn't want to rock the boat.

He was just able to make out Stede's whispered 'goodnight' through the slats of the closet door.

Chapter Text

All things considered, it was a quiet night.

Stede slept so soundly that when he first woke, he had almost forgotten everything that had happened. He had made sure to dispose of all the evidence, and his room was pristine, so it wasn't until he opened the closet door and was greeted by Ed that it all came crashing back down.

Ed had already picked out an outfit for him, which was closer to Stede's usual style.

Going semi-formal, pairing his favorite teal suit coat with light wash jeans and... and...

"Where's the shirt?" Stede asked with a sigh.

Ed grunted.

"Look, I don't have to dress like this today. I don't need that kind of confidence boost. We are just going to have a totally normal, completely boring day."

Ed made the suit coat do a little shimmy as he let out a low moan.

Stede was bout to argue his point, when Izzy's voice rang out through the building.

"House meeting, you twats! Emergency house meeting!"

Stede immediately perked up and grabbed the suit coat from Ed.

"Hurry! Pick out some accessories. Cuff links? No, that's too much if we're going without a shirt. Perhaps, a simple chain? Ed! Help me out here!"

Ed, to his credit, lumbered around as quickly as he could. Of course, once again, Stede had to forgo his usual morning routine, so he just knew his hair was a disgraceful mess, but they got him dressed and out into the living room before most of the other residents.

A fantastic first step in impressing Izzy.

Izzy looked on the verge of a breakdown, unfortunately, but he smiled when he saw Stede.

Then he gulped very noticeably when he saw Stede's outfit, and Stede preened. Probably thrusting his chest out more than was socially acceptable for so early in the morning.

"Hi Stede," he said, voice hoarser than usual thanks to all the yelling. "I promise this'll be quick, and you won't be late for work."

Work?

Stede hadn't even thought about work. If he was trying to return to his routine as if nothing had happened, he supposed he would have to go into work. However, the thought of going into the drab store, sitting bored behind the counter, putting up with Gail and any irate customers? Stede didn't think he could.

He had reanimated dead flesh!

Twice!

That wasn't a coincidence!

Was it? No, it wasn't.

What Stede should be focusing on was finding an actual scientist to help him with his findings. Forget having a normal, boring day. He had phone calls to make. There would be experiments to conduct, scientific journals to report to, and God knows what else a pedestrian such as himself didn't know about.

Stede never got around to pondering what else a discovery of this magnitude could entail because Izzy's jagged voice cut through the room.

"Listen up everyone," he said, garnering about half of the room's attention. Then, louder, "Cocksuckers! Listen up!"

The room went dead silent.

"Th-thank you," Izzy said, shifting from foot to foot. "Uh, unfortunately, there's been an incident that concerns all residents."

"You're damn right," Lucius said with a huff, and crossed his arms as he continued, "How am I expected to keep my sideburns looking perfect if I don't have music to listen to?"

"Yeah, whoever stole the stereo, that was a low blow," Pete chimed in.

Stede's second opportunity to impress Izzy (and bonus! Impress everyone else as well.) He was killing it!

"There's another stereo that I found while cleaning the storage room the other day. It only plays the folk station, too, but it'll do in a pinch," he said.

Lucius at least looked happy about the news, but most of the residents ignored him. Some even looked downright disgusted. As if his voice alone was enough to put them off.

"Thanks... for that... Stede," Izzy said. "That's now what this is about, I'm afraid. Last night, the house received a call. I was the one who took it, and it was Wellington's boss. He said that Wellington never showed up for work, and he's never done that without calling in first, so I went to check on him."

"And he was being a big baby?" Jim asked with a chuckle.

There was scattered laughter throughout the room. It pleased Stede to know that apparently Wellington had a disgraced reputation among the residents. He had been a rotten man through and through, and Stede had done the world a favor by killing him. He had made peace with his actions, but it felt even better to know that it hadn't been an entirely selfish action.

"He wasn't there," Izzy said, a little harshly.  Jim simply rolled their eyes, and no one else seemed too stressed about it either. "Half of his closet was gone as well. The room is a mess. Looks like he left in a hurry."

Now residents were shocked and taking the situation seriously.

(Because, of course, no one had noticed Stede using Wellington's key, going into his room, and packing one of his suitcases after he and Ed finished in the rec room. It had worked to cover what had happened to Chauncey, so Stede had figured it was a good idea. Keep the police from jumping straight to murder, although there should be no evidence that led to him. It would be nice to have maybe a day or two where he didn't have to be nervous about the police snooping around the house.)

"Wait. Are you saying he... just ran away?" Oluwande asked.

"I'm not sayin' anything because that's not my job," Izzy said, holding his hands up. "I'm just askin' if anyone knows anything before I report it."

The volume in the living room was deafening as everyone started talking over each other, trying to figure out who had seen him last, if anything he had said recently would have alluded to him planning on leaving, and wondering why he would have done it in the first place.

"Everybody! Everybody!" Izzy clapped his hands to get the residents to quiet down once again. "We can be organized about this and get it over with. Did anyone see him yesterday? That's an easy enough way to know who saw him last."

No one spoke up.

Izzy pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he could barely contain his rage.

Oh, and it always took him so long to get over one of his moods! Stede was going to have to wait on trying to flirt with him another day.

"Stede," Izzy said, slowly, like Stede was a child. "Do you have anything you want to say? About the note you had me deliver to Wellington yesterday? Did you see him later when he got it?"

Lucius whipped around so he could look at Stede, and asked with a smirk, "You gave Wellington a note?"

"It wasn't 'a note'," Stede said. He scrambled for a good excuse as everyone watched him, the fact that he was sweating blatantly obvious with no shirt on. "Our...mail got mixed up. I just attached an apology to it in case he noticed that it had taken longer to arrive than it should have."

For the most part, the residents seemed to buy that. John was shaking his head, saying that Wellington was 'no good for Stede,' which had Stede relieved. The house wasn't going to suddenly miss that man. Which made sense, since he hadn't even heard of him a week ago.

Izzy was the only one who didn't look wholly convinced, but thankfully he let it go.

"Okay. I'll go report it. The police obviously might still stop by if they have questions for anyone, but otherwise you're all free to go. I'll let you know if I hear any news."

The residents dispersed, then, breaking off into their usual cliques.

Stede saw Lucius making a beeline for him, however, no doubt intent to get the gossip on him and Wellington.

Izzy and Lucius both weren't the types to miss the details, devils that they were, so Stede made a beeline for the front door. He had to go to Jackie'z so Izzy didn't think anything weird was going on with him, and while he was there, he had to compose his story. Something with enough juicy details to get Lucius off his back, but simple enough that he wasn't going to get caught up in any lies.

He was honestly beginning to wish the lightning had struck him down in the cemetery.

Stede didn't come back to the room after the house meeting, although Ed couldn't blame him. He had listened in, through the door, because everyone in the boarding house was quite boisterous.

(It was, quite frankly, a miracle Stede hadn't been ostracized for 'talking to himself,' but Ed wasn't about to say anything. He loved Stede's voice. He wasn't going to do anything that caused him to stop speaking to him.)

So he was aware that the horrible man's disappearance had already caused a bit of a stir. That Izzy man Stede was always going on about put Stede on blast, and Stede did what Ed would have done as well.

Continue on as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

This didn't stop Ed from hating every moment he was alone that day. He had risen from the grave for Stede. There was no point in him being there if he wasn't with Stede.

He ended up doing the one thing he could to keep sane --

-- he wrote music.

To be exact, he wrote a sonata for Stede.

Going into work when his life was, yet again, crumbling around him felt surreal. Walking from his car to Jackie'z Tailoring, he was glad he couldn't see himself. He must have looked like one of those ghouls from that movie he had watched what felt like a lifetime ago.

In all honesty, it shouldn't have been bothering him as badly as it was. He hadn't even been arrested, and if the police were to ever charge him, it'd be for something arbitrary such as negligence.

Or obstruction.

Because there was no body.

Stede had no doubt the bodies would stay hidden. In fact, being rid of both Chauncey and that prick Wellington meant the authorities might go from thinking foul play to play partners. People like explanations to be simple, after all. Police doubly so.

Once it was obvious that Chauncey wasn't returning from his work trip, they'd assume the two men ran off together.

It was oh so nice and neat.

So why was Stede panicking?

Now that the novelty had worn off, Gail told him that his clothing was becoming too inappropriate for a work environment, and while he had to agree with her -- he put her in her place. She wasn't the boss, and it wasn't as if she was going to be working there much longer.

That shut her up.

Another slow day, and then with Gail ignoring him after he had snapped, led to far too much time for Stede's mind to wander.

He was mentally exhausted by the time he dragged himself home, so he dropped his suit coat on the floor and crawled straight into bed, completely forgetting Ed for a moment. His pet corpse shuffled over and thrust some papers in Stede's face with a grunt. Stede glanced down, saw the music notes, and sighed.

"Oh Ed, I'm really sorry, but I'm really not up for sneaking you out of the room right now," he told Ed before shoving his face into his pillow.

Ed let out an ear piercing whine, and Stede hissed in return, although it wasn't very menacing with the sound obstructed by the feather down.

"You have to keep it down! Do you want to get caught?"

Stede could feel the judgmental look Ed was giving him.

"Okay, yes, we technically have more on our plate we could be worrying about rather than you being seen, but they might think you did it then."

Ed grunted, and Stede finally emerged from his cocoon and glared at him in return.

"That's a valid conclusion to make, you know! Considering you did!"

For some reason, the truth truly aggravated Ed, because he lumbered off to the desk (presumably to grab the chalkboard to tell him off) but Stede was finished with the conversation. He turned onto his side and faked sleep until it claimed him for real.

Stede had never exactly been a fan of dreams. Not only did they rarely offer him an escape from his frankly desolate life, but they hardly made any sense either. If they were trying to clue him in on some profound message instead of just being some fun, whimsical bed time stories, they were not doing a very good job.

His dream that night started with him being tricked into thinking he had woken up...

... to a black and white world.

There was a song about seabirds playing on the fried radio that had been abandoned in the corner of his room, and that was what assured Stede that he was still fast asleep.

Or was he? Maybe science had nothing to do with Ed's resurrection, and Stede had been wielding magic this entire time.

Speaking of Ed, Stede had sat up in bed and turned to find Ed sitting next to him. Except he was made entirely of stone, like the statue atop his grave. Stede tried to ask him if he was alright, but he found that now he was the one who could not speak.

Still, Ed seemed to understand that Stede was trying to say something, and he opened his mouth to respond.

Stede knew it wouldn't it been Ed's true voice. Only what his subconscious could provide, but that didn't stop him from wanting to hear it.

Unfortunately, however, all that came out of Ed's stony mouth were gulls.

Seabirds.

The radio started to speak, and Stede ducked down.

The music only played louder.

Yet Stede was still able to hear, clear as day, a voice he did know well but never thought he would have to hear again.

"Stede. Stede."

With a gulp, Stede looked over to his bedside table, where there suddenly was a portrait of his father holding a three headed goose.

"Stede," his portrait said, "You're going to die alone."

Stede awoke to a figure looming over his bed and, with the dream fresh in his mind, he lashed out at whom he assumed to be his father.

Ed grunted, and a millipede dropped to the floor.

"Oh my goodness! Ed! I'm so sorry! I had a bad dream, and I thought you were..."

Ed nodded in understanding before dropping onto the bed, nestled in the space Stede's body carved out. He handed Stede the chalkboard and waited for him to read the message.

"I think we should leave before the police come to question the residents. It will look less suspicious, and we'll be long gone before they realize that Chauncey is missing as well."

Where would they go,though?

Stede had nowhere to go, and he certainly didn't have the savings for them to stay in motels as they Bonnie and Clyded across the country.

He couldn't bring himself to admit that to Ed. He knew by the standards of Ed's time, he still wouldn't have looked rich, but perhaps well off. And he should have been, especially at that point in his life. Having been cut off by his father left him to start completely over, and while he had managed to keep himself afloat, he hadn't been fantastic at saving funds. It felt as if he spent every penny the moment it hit his account. If he told Ed he had no money, though, it wouldn't be long until he found someone else who could stitch him up and provide for him as well.

Perhaps a surgeon, who would have the right tools and could do it better than Stede.

Stede couldn't lose Ed.

He was all Stede had through all of this. He couldn't lose Ed.

"We're not running anywhere. That'll look suspicious no matter what," Stede told him, and then explained his theory on how the authorities would 'solve' the whole case.

Ed grunted in agreement.

"Still, it's not too weird to take a day off when something so tragic happens, right?" Stede giggled, and Ed joined in, the sound more akin to a frog with a frog in its throat. "I'm sure we can find a good enough disguise for you so we can have a day out on the town. Get you out of this stifling room."

Ed had already started piling an outfit on the foot of Stede's bed before he had even finished the sentence. There was a large hat and sunglasses. He was going to look like a celebrity trying to dodge the paparazzi. It would do the job, however, so Stede left him to it after changing into his own outfit and headed to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, it was preoccupied.

Fortunately, it was Lucius trimming his sideburns, and he had left the door wide open.

"If you don't mind sharing the space, you can come on in and get ready," he said, and Stede gladly took him up on the offer.

The new old radio was warbling 'And they say that he got crazy once and he tried to touch the sun, and he lost a friend but kept the memory. Now he walks in quiet solitude the forests and the streams... seeking grace in every step he takes,' but Lucius turned it down.

Then he turned to Stede and started fussing with his hair. Stede tried to duck away, but Lucius was persistent.

"You're trying a new look every day, aren't you? Let me help, or you're going to run out of looks pretty quick. Even I couldn't come up with a new look for myself every week."

"I don't want anything too extravagant right now, though. I'm just having a relaxing day," Stede told him. Now that he was up close and person with Lucius, however, he could see the beginnings of a bruise forming on his neck and that was much more interesting.  In a teasing tone, he said, "I see you and Pete had a good time last night."

"Who?" Lucius asked, playing it far too stupid for someone who had gotten lucky twice that week.

"Pete. He left you a little present after you two were necking last night, it looks like."

Lucius snorted.

"Who even says 'necking,' Stede?" he asked, before a blush crept up his neck therefore obscuring the bruise, and across his face. He reached a hand up and wrapped it around his neck. "Wait. Oh my god, that little asshole!"

"I feel that's uncalled for. Pete's not that short. I'd say he's about average..."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. Pete," Lucius mumbled as he pat Stede's shoulder. He dropped his razor into the sink and then locked eyes with Stede. Stede had never seen him look so serious. "Hey, can you do me a favor and not rag on Pete about this? He's not exactly comfortable being out yet. You understand."

Stede understood, sure, but all he could think about was how Pete had no complaints with how cuddly he and Lucius had been the other day. However, he didn't have the time to grill Lucius about the matter. No doubt Ed would have been dressed and getting restless, and now Stede was going to have to completely re-do his hair.

Lucius had only succeeded in making the bangs stick straight up.

Hoping the answer was no, but not wanting to be a bad friend when something was clearly on Lucius's mind, Stede asked as he ran his fingers through his hair, "You didn't need a ride to work today, then?"

Lucius cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Oh no, not today. I'm going out with... Well, I'm going to meet up with a friend."

"Okay. Uh, me too," Stede said and immediately realized his mistake.

Lucius was on him within a second, grinning wildly.

Evilly.

Detail Devil.

"It wouldn't happen to be Wellington, would it? Are you two running around together? He's holed up in some motel room right now because you two are in your honeymoon phase?"

"No! It's nothing like that!" Why had he said that? Everyone in the boarding house knew that he didn't know anyone else! He had to think. Think! Oh Jesus, Mary, and Jos... "Mary! I'm meeting up with Mary to... catch up."

That killed the mood, which meant the lie worked better than Stede could have predicted. He figured Lucius would have made polite talk about that, but truly. Thank God he didn't. They finished getting ready in near silence, the radio playing so quietly that Stede couldn't make out the words. He turned to leave the bathroom, and came face to face with Izzy.

Frozen like a caveman in a block of ice, Stede was unable to even say 'hello.'

And yet, Izzy still smiled at him, waved, and greeted him with a, "Bonnet. Lucius."

Wait.

Lucius was on a first name basis and Stede was back to 'Bonnet?'

Well. Stede knew how he and Ed were going to start their day.

Stede had started to think that Ed was possibly more conspicuous dressed as he was than if he had worn the outfit he had on before. Other than the cravat, it had been less flashy than how Stede had been dressing, after all.

Now, with the baseball cap pulled down so that the brim was resting on the frames of his sunglasses? Leather gloves on to hide the rotting skin of one of his hands? Long sleeves and long pants when it wasn't freezing out?

They were garnering quite a lot of attention, because the citizens of their lazy town were intrigued that a celebrity was walking among them. Nearly every person they passed would try to get a subtle look at Ed. Even a few of the braver ones approached them and would ask things like, "Hey, haven't I seen you in that one sitcom?"

Ed's grunting responses at least were dismissed as him either being full of himself or another attempt to conceal his identity.

Stede was sweating bullets.

Why had he thought that taking Ed outside was a good idea?

He had gotten a little too comfortable. His dream hadn't exactly been an omen that they were going to be caught, but his father had told him that he was going to die alone. That could mean that Ed was going to be found out, and they were going to drag him away from Stede. But he had completely disregarded the dream when Lucius's teasing had him believing that everyone most likely assumed that there was nothing truly amiss. Lucius even almost believed what Stede wanted them all to believe, although now he was caught up as one of the players, since no one even knew yet that Chauncey had never arrived at his business trip's destination.

Actually, all of this was Lucius's fault. Even if he had granted Stede a small slice of calmness, he now had Stede looking over his shoulder every five seconds thinking there would be a police officer there to question the strange celebrity. Stede had honestly thought that he and Ed would go for a walk in the park when he had been getting dressed that morning. Something small like that, but now he was forced to follow Lucius around so he could make sure he wasn't doing something insidious.

Oh, what was Stede thinking?

Lucius was his friend. He never would do what Stede was pathetically assuming that he was about to do.

He and Ed had been following the younger man around for several hours at that point. So far all Lucius had done was go to the local cafe for a coffee and pastry, which he ate as he strolled along the town square, and then stopped at the art supply store to buy a new sketchbook.

"I've been a fool," Stede whispered to himself.

Ed grunted from behind him, and Stede shook his head.

"Oh, nothing, Ed. Come on. How about we go watch the ducks by the lake?" he suggested, just as a man with a large beard and several tattoos approached Lucius and gave him a giant bear hug.

Perhaps Stede had been worrying over nothing. Lucius was a very sociable person. Of course he had been telling the truth about meeting a friend that he knew outside of the boarding house.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Stede was in much higher spirits as he led the way to the park and bought a loaf of bread from the cart that liked to set up shop outside the park's gates. He and Ed set up on a bench that was right on the bank of the lake, and Stede tore the loaf in half so he could give it to Ed. They sat in silence for awhile, pinching the bread into crumbs to feed the ducks, and taking in nature.

Ed didn't push him. Not like he could in the typical sense, but still, he didn't even make a sound.

Stede appreciated it.

"I think it's time I start trusting people again," he said, once the silence finally became too much. "I mean, not everyone is out to get me."

Ed let out a low moan.

"I thought I had learned how to let people in again when Lucius and I started talking. But that's all it was. Talking," Stede admitted. He definitely loved talking, but if the conversations were never more in depth than Lucius's usual gossip, then there wasn't much to build a friendship on, was there? "We were friendly enough, but I always held him at arm's length. So sure that he would betray me just like Nigel had. I don't want to live my life like that. I want to be his friend. I want to trust him. I don't want my jealousy to make me follow him around for an entire day to make sure he's not going to... Well, you know."

Ed groaned, and Stede turned to him and smiled. It caused a few tears he hadn't noticed trickle down his cheeks, but it was alright. He had a tendency to get emotional. That didn't meant that he was upset, and it appeared that Ed understood that. He didn't look worried.

In fact, he smiled back at Stede, blackened teeth on display.

"And I'm going to trust you. Fully. We obviously have each other's backs. I'm sorry for all the times I've been short with you. That certainly was uncalled for."

Ed leaned over and set his head on Stede's shoulder. It was as effective, if not more effective, than any comforting words would have been.

And Stede didn't even gag at the smell of Ed's rotting flesh as some of it slid off onto his shirt.