Chapter Text
Standing in the empty space was a bit of a surreal feeling, honestly. It had been a second-hand shop before he bought it, and the smell of mothballs and old ladies still clung to the yellowed wallpaper. But as his pa had said, the place had good bones, a solid foundation and it would just need some elbow grease, blood, sweat and tears, then it would be good. Still, stepping up to the counter with its peeling varnish and old stains, Eridan was hit by a wave of doubt. The whole place looked ready to come apart at the seams, but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. The peeling wallpaper would just be easier to remove, the counter had a certain charm that he just might keep and the door to the upstairs apartment, squeaking and groaning on its hinges, would just need a good oiling and some paint.
Not that he had any idea how to do any of that, but that was why he was calling in the figurative cavalry.
Just like everything else, the stairs leading upstairs creaked under his weight as he made his way up, trying to not touch the sticky bannister or think about the fact that the previous owner had fucking died in the apartment. Had he been a lesser, or more superstitious, man, he would have been worried about the haunting potential absolutely radiating off of that whole situation. The whole place reeked of negative energy. Or that might just have been the lingering scent of nicotine. As bad as the shop was, the apartment was almost worse, showing the neglect that came with having an elderly hermit as an inhabitant., no upkeep, just peeling paint, disgusting carpet floors, (and he’d never get over the american obsession with wearing shoes inside, it was just unhygienic,) and marks on the walls from furniture and paintings, like ghosts of the previous owner was still there, like the apartment was trying to tell some story. Not that he was superstitious or anything. He was just aware of things going on around him.
Things like the sound of the shop’s front door opening, the bell above it ringing loud and clear, even upstairs. At least that meant he would know if he forgot to lock the door some night and someone decided to step inside.
At least running down the stairs wasn’t much different from doing it at home, even if he was once again reminded that the bannister was disgusting and was rapidly jumping up the ranks of the to-do list. In fact, it might just have taken first priority.
The fact that it was just his pa and Cronus who had arrived was enough to have Eridan let out a small sigh of relief, ready to get to work. When it turned out that Cronus was a master of ripping up carpets, nobody was surprised. It was also strangely therapeutic, tearing down and preparing to rebuild. In some ways, both he and the shop were going to be starting new chapters. Eridan would be on his own for the first time and the shop would soon be filled with coffee craving people with an appreciation for the finer things in life. At least, that was the way it would go if he had anything to say about it.
Come evening he was exhausted, feet dragging on the now bare apartment floor as he gathered up the empty boxes from the chinese take-out they’d ordered. The kitchen was in no state to be used, everything had been taken out and hauled down the stairs so new appliances could be put in, something that left him with just a decimated apartment, a sleeper couch and a shitty car air freshener Cronus had brought from work.
From the open window the sounds of cars came drifting up along with the sound of faint music from somewhere down the street, so different from the quiet of the suburbs he’d grown up in. In some ways it was another reminder that he was away from home, something that sent a pang of homesickness in to squeeze around his heart. Away from home, away from the scandal, away from nosy neighbors, from everyone who’d known him in high school and college, just away from everything. The prospect of being utterly alone for the first time was sort of terrifying, and without even really thinking about it he somehow ended up calling his dad.
It wasn’t even until his dad answered that he really registered it.
“High Street Butchers, you drop ‘em we chop ‘em.”
“Pa, that’s fuckin’ awful, I can’t believe you’ve actually said that,” Eridan replied, faintly amused at the whole thing. It felt good. Hearing his pa’s jokes, awful as they were, was comforting.
“Well, I cannae just be old and borin’ now, can I?”
“Yes, you absolutely can and you should. Just, please be normal, for once in your fuckin’ life.”
“Hey now, slow down on the sass, laddie. Did ye need somethin’?”
“Oh, yeah, I was wonderin’ if we could get my wardrobe set up tomorrow? And if so, if you could bring some of my boxes of clothes.” Sure, he’d brought a suitcase along, but it still only had seven or eight shirts, two jackets, six pairs of pants and ten pairs of socks. Not nearly enough to last him the week.
“Of course. By the way, the kitchen appliances should be arrivin’ tomorrow around 10, just so you know.”
“And someone will be installin’ them?”
“If they don’t then I’ve definitely paid too much. Anyway, I have t’ go, we’re just about t’ pull out on the highway, and you should get some rest.”
“Yeah, I know.” Eridan didn’t want the call to end, he wanted to cling to that bit of familiarity that came with hearing his pa’s voice. “Get home safe, yeah? Love you.”
“Love you too, guppy,” his pa replies, fondness clear in his voice.
And just like that he was alone in his new apartment again, looking out the window to the building across the street. There was light in some of the windows, and for a moment he wondered what sort of people lived there. But really, that didn’t matter, he was never going to speak with the people across the way anyways, unless they were the types to enjoy high end coffee, against all expectations.
Pushing himself away from the window, Eridan headed for the couch, folding it out and making sure everything was settled before he retrieved his laptop, planning to binge Drag Race until well into the night, just to fill the quiet and to drown out the feeling of being alone. If he could just watch some queens be shady at each other for a while and try not to think about all the work still ahead, that would be absolutely lovely. Even if the stench of nicotine still hit him from time to time, briefly reminding him of the smell that used to cling to Cronus. A weird little reminder of home, but one he’d be glad to get rid of some day.
After about four episodes of drag race it hit him that maybe one more check downstairs was a good idea, and so down the stairs he went. Checking the windows and front door was easy enough, and allowed him a moment to look out again, over the street. It was calm, pleasant, the trees along the streets losing their leaves and for a moment he longed for a mug of tea in his hands and a robe around his shoulders.
Instead of doing anything about that he just checked that front door was locked and then made his way back upstairs. There Eridan finally undressed, stretched and let himself collapse on the couch, out like a light within minutes.
The next morning he came to to the sound of his phone buzzing right off of it’s windowsill perch, clattering to the floor. If the screen hadn’t already been cracked to hell and back he would probably have been more worried, but as it was he just ignored it until the alarm stopped buzzing and he could-
Wait. Alarms didn’t just stop. Fuck.
Rolling out of bed was still a chore though, especially with his body reminding him that all physical activity was fuckin’ overrated, and what exactly had caused the back of his thighs to cramp up like that? In spite of his body’s protests, Eridan managed to wriggle to the phone, though, picking it up and groaning loudly when he spotted the three missed calls from his dad and the six or seven texts from Cronus. Without even looking at them he just flopped back down and allowed himself a moment to just lay on the floor and dread the day ahead of him.
It was going to be a long,
long
day.