Archive of Our Own

Steve hauled himself up onto the window ledge in his room, leaning his head against the frosted up glass to peer down into the depressing street below. The sky seemed to never shake off its grey hue, eternally cold and dead. 

His mother and father had arranged for him to be married in a few days, to a girl from a well-off family - they needed it because his father’s business had declared bankruptcy and they needed something to fill the gap in the finances. Apparently, the girl’s name was Elizabeth and her father owned a coal mining business that made quite a sum of money, not that Steve cared much. 

What he did care about was getting out of the uncomfortably itchy suit he was forced into as the tie dug unforgivingly into the flesh of his neck. He didn’t even want to get married in the first place, he was only nineteen for god’s sake and he had never spoken to or even known of Elizabeth until the night prior. 

He wasn’t even sure why such a family would willingly marry off their daughter to some fish merchant’s son. He could hazard a guess about how Elizabeth’s parents desperately wanted grandchildren and to get Elizabeth off of their hands, so they didn’t really care who she married at that point. 

He lit a cigarette and brought it to his lips, his brain itching for some kind of distraction from the upcoming wedding - his upcoming wedding. His stomach churned in his body, almost upchucking into the palm of his free hand as the weight of his future really began to settle in. 

“Stephen?” He heard his father yell from outside, making him turn to the ashtray by his feet and stub out the cigarette between his fingers before leaning out of the window slightly, watching as his mother and father fussed around by the horse-drawn carriage outside. 

“Coming Father.” He deadpanned, and he got nothing in return. 

His feet hurt in the stubborn shoes he was wearing, and he could’ve sworn that one of his toes were bleeding as he made his way downstairs and outside, watching with dulled amusement as his mother tried to maneuver the bulk of her skirt into the vehicle, struggling due to the bustle at the back. 

When he finally settled, seated across from both of his parents, his mother decided to speak up. 

“Beautiful day for a wedding, isn’t it?” She asked, looking at Steve with a wide smile on his face. “As long as you say your vows correctly, we will be on track for the big day,” She paused to look at her husband. 

“Then we’ll be rubbing elbows with high society, won’t we dear?” She said, and Steve watched in morbid fascination as his father sported a sly grin, looking almost foreign to his son in that moment. 

Sure, he knew they didn’t actually care for the marriage in terms of his happiness, but to hear them almost boast about it was absolutely vile; he could be stuck with this random woman for is whole life, miserable and dull and they didn’t care one bit that they were throwing a chunk of his freedom away. He knew how rich people worked, they controlled almost everything about other people, and he wasn’t naive enough to believe the Everglots were any different. 

“That girl, Elizabeth Everglot is quite the catch. Isn’t she, Stephen?” His father said, distracting him from his absolutely riveting study of the buildings they passed by. 

“I wouldn’t know, Father. I’ve never had a word alone with the girl.” He muttered, earning a whisper of ‘thank the heavens for that’ from his mother which was followed by a gruff laugh from his father. “Shouldn’t Elizabeth Everglot be marrying a lord or something? I have absolutely no clue how to speak to her.”

His mother gave him a pointed look, “Well first you ask her, ‘how do you do?’, then you will comment on her beauty, whether fictional or not. Saying such things is just a husband’s duty.” The word ‘husband’ made his stomach twist and sink. 

His father seemed to catch onto his displeasure. “Stephen, this is our one chance to buy what money can’t - respectability. You cannot afford to ruin this for us.” He scolded, looking to his wife for backup. Steve was not idiotic enough to miss the usage of ‘us’ in reference to his parents, highlighting how the marriage was for their benefit, not his. 

“Remember, the Everglots are the oldest family of nobility around - they’re descendants of a Duke! At least try to make this work for your father and I.” She said, reaching over to grasp one of Steve’s hands in her own. 

Steve said nothing, going back to watching the outside scenery. 

It certainly was a mansion if Steve had ever seen one before; it was grand, even though the exterior, and no doubt the interior, was just as glum and somber as seemingly every other house ever built. It wasn’t underwhelming in any way, but it wasn’t exactly an architectural marvel. 

As they approached the doors, Steve mused that it seemed more like a cathedral than anything close to a home. It was all quite…arrogant, this whole flaunting of wealth thing; the fact that the doorbell even sounded like that of a cathedral really marked that this was really what his future was folding out to be. Every bong of the bell reminded him of how his control over his own life was slipping from his hands as every second went on. 

A hand between his shoulder blades snapped him out of whatever existential crisis state he was in, and suddenly he was being ushered through the door and into the tiled foyer by his mother. 

“You really should be grateful for everything we’ve done,” She started, dipping down to whisper to him. “Who else would sacrifice so much for the good of their son?” Steve wanted to storm out of the stupid mansion, but he knew it would have a greater negative impact on himself than anyone else. 

His mother went to say something else, but abruptly shut her mouth as the Everglots began walking down the stone stairway, auras cold and imposing, the very splitting image of high society. It made Steve’s skin crawl as they held their chins up, declaring their class without uttering a word. 

Steve watched in silence as Mrs Everglot and his mother exchanged (obviously fake) tight smiles, and he didn’t miss how Mr Everglot had to be elbowed in the ribs by his wife to get his mouth to twist into a smile too. All rich people’s smiles were filled with razors and ill intent, the Everglots were no exception. 

Mr Everglot muttered something unintelligible under his breath before he raised his voice, that steely smile never leaving his face. “Well hello! What a pleasure it is to have you. Welcome to our home.” He announced, gesturing to the room around them with his hands. It seemed rehearsed, like clockwork, predictable and programmed. 

The four parents exchanged uncomfortable handshakes and bows as Steve watched, forgotten and ignored where he stood, uneasy. 

Mrs Everglot then turned to her butler, “We will be taking tea in the West drawing room,” She said, then her cold, dead eyes turned to where Steve was standing, flickering back after a beat. “Tell Elizabeth that the Harringtons have arrived.” 

The butler scurried off, leaving the adults to move into the drawing room as Steve was alone again. 

He felt incredibly unsure what to do, contemplating joining his parents, however he realised that he didn’t really feel like listening to their lacklustre conversation for longer than he had to. 

His eyes landed on a door that was left slightly ajar; on one hand, he could risk a stern telling off from his father, or he could just stand in the hallway like an idiot. Obviously, he slipped into the room, as quietly as he could, so as not to disturb anybody else in the house. 

The room was filled with dulled portraits, lining the walls all the way up to the high ceiling which Steve almost snorted at  -  they really showed how shallow and narcissistic those of high class were, no matter how hard they tried to act like they weren’t, they couldn’t shake off who they really were. However, what really caught his eye was the large piano that seemed to dominate the center of the room, one that had to be the size of a small boat. 

He sat with unpractised grace, feeling drawn to the instrument that could’ve only been fathomed in a dream. His fingers were gentle as they ghosted over the keys that were collecting dust; Steve shuddered to think how long it had been left unused. 

When he put more weight on the keys, he was hesitant and almost startled at the noise, even though he knew it was coming and that he was in charge of when it did and did not make noise. As he pressed down more often, he seemed to shake off that hesitance, letting his mind create whatever it wanted in that very moment, completely distracting him from his current situation. 

He was so distracted that he didn’t hear somebody entering the room. 

“How lovely.” Steve jumped at the voice, so startled that he hit his knee on the underside of the piano, muttering a curse under his breath as the lid dropped with an uncomfortably heavy thud. 

He sheepishly looked up at the person who entered: conventionally beautiful, pale skin that blushed slightly at the cheeks, wide chestnut eyes, brown hair that fell in modest curls, and wearing a high-necked grey dress. She wore a small smile on red lips. 

He felt incredibly embarrassed to be in such a situation, “Oh…I- do forgive me.” He stuttered, offering up his own smile in return. 

“You play beautifully.” She said, seemingly unfazed even after what had happened. 

It suddenly dawned on him the full extent of what had happened, “I-I do apologise, Miss Everglot. How rude of me to…”

“The song. What is it called?” She suddenly said, leaving Steve incredibly confused. 

He looked at her strangely, eyebrows pinching in the middle. “The song? Oh, it was…something I came across.” He offered up weakly, hand coming to rub the back of his neck in a practised manner. 

Elizabeth tilted her head, “Came across where?” 

Steve cleared his throat, swallowing whatever lump had formed in his heightened embarrassment. “Well…It was inside me, I guess.” 

Her face twitched, disappointment coming to lace across her features. Steve was about to ask what was wrong but she beat him to it. 

“Mother won’t allow me near the piano. Music is improper for a young lady. Too passionate, she says.” In that moment, Steve seemed to clock how childlike Elizabeth’s mannerisms were, the way she parroted her mother’s words. Even though she was beautiful, she was incredibly influenced. Steve felt wrong that he was even supposed to be marrying her. 

Steve’s hand went to rub the knee that had collided with the piano. 

“If I may ask, M-Miss Everglot…” He started after a beat of silence, which caused Elizabeth to turn to him, killing his voice in his throat. 

“In review of the circumstances, perhaps you could call me ‘Elizabeth’.” She supplied, which he followed with a nod. 

“Yes…of course. Elizabeth…” He said, hesitance creeping in once again. 

“Yes, Stephen?” Steve went sour, the usage of his full name reminding him that he was talking to somebody who would never fully understand him. 

He licked his lips nervously, suddenly feeling like the world was crushing him. “Tomorrow we are to be…Mm…” Nausea was suddenly crawling up his throat, making him unable to even utter the word. 

The nausea spiked as Elizabeth’s smile returned, “Married.” She said simply, and Steve nodded his head in almost jerking movements. 

He took a deep, slow breath. “Yes. M-Married. About that…” He almost scrapped the idea of finishing his sentence when he saw how her face suddenly fell. “I feel like you must know that…I-I do not wish to be married to you, as harsh as that is. I feel like this marriage will strip us both of our future, and so I needed to tell you that…I will never be able to l-love you, because that is not how it works. I cannot be…be forced into loving someone I do not.” 

Elizabeth looked like she was about to cry, but Steve knew that it was for the best that he told her now, and not string her along like some naive puppy who thought the world was as easy as finding someone to marry was. 

He watched her tip her head backwards, blinking a couple of times before she looked back. “I suppose that it is better that you told me now.” She said, bitterness lacing her words as she spit them out like venom. Steve felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, until it was replaced with the weight of the still incoming marriage. 

The bitterness showed Steve that what he feared was right; she had expected him to love her immediately, even though they had never even seen each other before. 

The revelation plunged them into uncomfortable silence, occasionally interrupted by Elizabeth’s sniffing. He felt bad for the gnawing annoyance that sprouted due to the sounds - what? He had never been good with processing his own emotions, let alone anybody else’s. 

He went to open his mouth to apologise again, but he was interrupted by somebody clearing their throat. That somebody happened to be the pastor that would be marrying them in a few days, wearing a stern glare as the four parents stood behind him, almost piled upon one another with how close they were standing. 

“What impropriety is this? You shouldn’t be alone together! Here it is one minute before five, and you are not at the rehearsal.” He seethed, tone icy and thundering. 

“Oh dear…We…We…” Steve mumbled, being shot a hard stare by Mrs Everglot. 

“Come at once.” She said, before all five of them turned and left. Steve didn’t even look at Elizabeth as they followed swiftly. 

They were all gathered in the drawing room; Steve risked a glimpse at his parents and saw how they were sitting next to Mr and Mrs Everglot at the side. At the front of the room sat a makeshift altar, and a ridiculously expensive looking table held candles and a single chalice. The tension and pressure in the room was weighing down on him like a tonne of bricks on a flimsy wooden shelf. 

The pastor, whose name Steve never listened to enough to learn, held a book in one hand and some type of scepter in another. He glared at him when Steve wouldn’t stop shaking. 

The rehearsal went just as well as you would imagine, full of Steve bumbling and stumbling over his unpractised vows, much to his parent’s disdain and mortification. At one point, he’d raised his left hand when he was instructed to lift his right, at another, he’d been so uneasy with linking elbows with Elizabeth that he’d taken too many steps forwards and got scolded. 

Worst of all though, was when he’d dropped the ring and in his haste to pick it up, he’d accidentally knocked over one of the lit candles and much to his horror, it had caught the edge of Mrs Everglot’s dress and set it alight, so Steve managed to stumble out, knowing he’d completely humiliated himself and his parents. 

By the time he got outside and passed the town crier, it was evening. So he passed the town church and crossed the old stone bridge, plunging himself into the thick woods ahead, uncaring as he was incredibly distraught from the newly introduced pressure set on him. 

He pushed through the spindly branches, muttering his vows blindly to himself as he became more and more trapped in his own mind, breath stuttering in his chest where it began tasting metallic in his mouth, even though there was nothing there. That nothingness held the power to become choking if it wanted to. 

“With this hand, I will…I will…” He whispered desperately, groaning in frustration before he started all over again, not quite running between the trees like he once was. 

“With this hand, I empty your cup. No. That’s not it.” He fumbled, “Your cup will never empty, for I will light your way. No. With this candle, I lift your sorrow…no, no.” He paused, digging his fingers into his hair and pulling slightly at the strands. “Oh, it’s no use.” 

If he wasn’t so caught up in his eternal panic, he would’ve noticed the crows that flapped from tree to tree, following his every movement through the darkening trees. 

Eventually, he stumbled into a desolate clearing; a toppled over tree making way for moonlight to filter through its absence as the crows he’d failed to notice before now circled in the surrounding trees, cawing incessantly. He was still mumbling his vows to himself as he sat down, the crows slowly growing louder and louder, like some sort of sad audience. 

Steve looked up through his hair, huffing out a small laugh at the birds as he stood up, a theatrical suave in his movements. 

He cleared his throat, “With this hand, I lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, I will be your wine…” He shot the birds an unimpressed look as they kept growing louder. “Thank you.” He said, a small smile dancing on his lips. “With this candle, I will light your way in darkness…” 

Steve felt his confidence growing as he reached into his pocket and produced the ring, and he took a few seconds to look at it before he knelt down with one big swoop. 

“With this ring…” He said, eyeing a small root poking from the snow-covered ground before sliding it onto its twisted surface. “I ask you to be mine!” He finished, looking up at the crows who had suddenly gone silent and were looking at him from where they were perched. 

Absent-mindedly, he reached back for his ring when the root suddenly encircled his wrist, much to his horror. He tried desperately to free his hand from its grasp, the crows scattering away at his movements. 

He mustered up all his strength and pulled away, the sound of ripping accompanying his body as it fell back against the snow. Still sprawled backwards, he risked a glimpse down to his wrist, finding not a root, but an unusually pale arm wrapped around it, making his blood run cold. 

Steve felt his throat open up, a scream ripping its way through it as he quickly flung it away, watching in a frozen state as the ground seemed to open up in front of him, splitting in a grotesque fashion. 

He watched as a figure rose from the previously frozen ground, wearing a tattered and torn…what was he wearing? The ring glittered menacingly on the figure’s ring finger, accompanied by other peculiar looking rings on strong looking hands. It suddenly settled in that it was very much a man wearing the ring, though the long, curly hair could’ve fooled him.

The figure’s eyes fluttered open, wide brown eyes meeting Steve’s own. He even seemed confused for a second, before he figured it out and a pleasant smile crossed his features. 

“You may kiss the…” The figure paused to think as Steve stayed planted on the ground, mouth agape in confusion. “Groom? I don’t know, man.” He offered weakly, looking at Steve’s terrified figure once again, his smile suddenly flashing some sharp-looking teeth. 

Steve scrambled backwards, finally finding his footing and running frantically in the opposite direction. He stumbled a few times, but he just kept running through thickets and branches. He ended up fully falling at some point, and only when he stood up did he realise that he had tripped on a gravestone in an abandoned graveyard. 

He let out a shuddering breath, full of fear as the…corpse? Moved towards him. 

He hauled himself up again, ignoring the protest in his knees as he began to run again, running for his life as he weaved between the gravestones, crashing blindly through the branches of the trees that seemed hellbent on blocking his way out as the corpse kept pursuing him. 

Eventually, he reached the edge of the forest and began sprinting towards the stone footbridge, finally slowing to catch his breath once he figured he was far enough away. 

He took a hesitant look towards the forest, finding it to be eerily silent. 

Suddenly, dark crows burst from the trees, like a dam that had just collapsed and was flushing unstable water downstream. He turned to run, but froze as the strangely-alluring figure began to approach him from the other side of the bridge. 

The corpse moved towards him as the crows gathered, causing Steve to be consumed by fear as he stood in place, completely unmoving no matter how much he urged his body to. In the moonlight, he got a much clearer look at the person’s face; pale skin, devoid of any lively rouge, pouty lips and glittering brown eyes. His hair was long, and it seemed to be tied back in a sloppy ponytail, a few stray strands joining his bangs in front of his face. 

Steve blacked out after he began leaning towards him. 

When he blinked his eyes open, he startled as he saw the man standing above him, excitement clear on his pretty face. 

“Oh Steve, you’re finally awake! I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.” He says, a shy smile on his lips. 

Steve blinked again, confusion overtaking the fear in his body. “How…How do you know my name?” He asked, and the man laughed. 

“You think I’d marry a stranger?” The man took his hand. 

Steve found himself pulled up from the floor, and with a quick scan of the bar (he’d figured out that’s where he was), his heart began beating rapidly in his chest as he realised everybody was staring at him and everybody was…well, dead. 

“Are you alright?” The man whispered, and Steve gave him an incredulous look, mouth slightly agape.

He was then led to a chair by a group of skeletons, still silent in absolute confusion until he was grounded and sat down. 

He finally took in the interior; a fireplace with green flames sat against one of the walls, the light casting a shadow onto the oddly uneven walls. His eyes trailed up rib-like beams that lead to the ceiling and he watched as dark figures passed through, the smoky air twisting and swirling against the coffin-shaped shelves which were stocked with strange looking bottles. 

There was suddenly a glass in front of him, and he looked up, suddenly startled as he realised that the person who pushed the glass to him was only a head, and that he hadn’t pushed it, but a cluster of cockroaches did. 

“Have a drink, dear boy. It’ll calm your nerves.” The head said, and Steve’s eyes went back and forth between the liquid and the head before he took a hesitant sip, relieved to find that it didn’t immediately kill him. 

The head then turned to the man, “Mon chérie, where have you been hiding yourself? It’s been ages.” He asked, earning a bashful wave from a ringed hand before the head was carried away by that group of cockroaches to serve another customer. 

Steve took that as his cue to scan the room again; a group of skeletons and corpses were playing billiards in a corner, and next to them was a gentleman who was taking puffs from a pipe, unnerving smoke rings filtering out from his eye sockets. Not too far away was a skeleton in a military uniform, a cannonball hole in his chest - he was playing chess with a corpse also in military uniform. 

Then, there was a hanged man playing darts with a few other corpses, some of the darts accidentally impaling a man in the head who seemed too distracted by his newspaper to realise what had happened. There was a stage too, where a group of skeletons were playing music. It made Steve’s head swim. 

It’s all a bit too much for him, so he takes a sharp gulp of his drink. 

Then, the skeletons on the stage began to play, and he realised that the ringed corpse was finally distracted, so he quickly double checked that nobody was watching him before he slipped out of the back door. 

He knew the corpse would come looking for him soon, but for now, he had time to run. Run and hope that he could escape this crazed hellscape; maybe he’d just passed out from embarrassment, or something. Yes! That was it, he was just comatose on the snowy floor of the forest, it was a product of his own fleeing, and he definitely wasn’t surrounded by dead people. 

And there definitely wasn’t a dead person wearing the ring he was to slide onto Elizabeth’s finger in a couple of days. Definitely. 

Every road looked the same; lit up with uneasy green lamps, far too many alleys made by far too many buildings which held far too little life for how many there were. He hoped the shiver that travelled up his spine was a result of his own nerves, and not the work of some gross little creature.

He found a back alley that ended once he had wandered around far enough, so he let himself slowly slide down the brick wall, not caring if his suit got scuffed or not as he crumpled to the ground. 

He took a deep breath and rested his head on his knees, “How can a living person marry a dead person?” He mumbled to himself, hands coming up to filter through his hands. 

“By making a vow.” His head snapped up at the voice, mouth going dry as he met a now familiar set of brown eyes. “Which you did, if you haven’t noticed.” He added with a small lilt of humour in his voice, though it was mostly dry. 

“But I’m already supposed to marry Elizabeth.” He muttered, watching as the corpse’s face swirled with disappointment. It made his heart hurt in a strange way. 

His stomach buzzed with something foreign, “This Elizabeth…did you love her? Is that why you’re so freaked right now?” Steve blanked at the question, taking a few seconds before he shook his head. 

“No, and I don’t think I ever could. It was an arranged marriage. I’d never even met her before today, if I’m being completely honest. Anyway, how would you feel if you married a corpse?” He answered, clearing his throat a little as the man came to sit down next to him on the floor. 

The corpse seemed to mull over his answer for a second, brows pinched in thought. “I think we were meant to find each other.” He confessed, and a few screws came loose in Steve’s brain. 

“I don’t even know your name.” Steve confessed, humour leaking into his tone. He watched the corpse look a little embarrassed. 

“Oh shit, it’s Eddie.” Eddie said, head suddenly turning away so he could fiddle with the wedding ring on his finger. 

Steve felt around in his pockets, silently thanking his past self as he retrieved a cigarette and a lighter. His shoulders lost a bit of their tenseness as he took his first inhale, so distracted that he didn’t even realise Eddie was staring at him until he opened his eyes, cheeks immediately going red as he put the cigarette back between his lips. 

“You’re awfully pretty, Steve.” Eddie whispered, leaning over and stealing the cigarette, putting it between his own lips. “Sorry. It’s just been a while.” He added, but Steve didn’t protest, still trying to process the compliment he’d just recieved. 

“My mother never approved of me smoking.” Steve said, the words forced from his lips; he watched as the corners of Eddie’s lips quirked up into a half-smile. 

“Do you think your mother would’ve approved of me?” Eddie asked, the tone of his voice giving away that it was a joke, passing the cigarette back to him. 

“You’re a man, Eddie.” He deadpanned, and Eddie looked embarrassed again. “Also…you never told me why you look like…that.” He added, gesturing to Eddie’s strange choice of clothing. 

“O-Oh, yes. I forgot about that.” His voice sounded a little like he had gotten winded, going quiet and breathy like his mind had escaped into another place. “Well, for you, I’d say it’s the year…eighteen eighty-five?” He asked, and Steve nodded. “For me, it’s roughly one hundred years in the future, which is why I probably look quite strange to you. This place is filled with everyone who has ever, and will ever die prematurely in this town, for those still alive at this moment, their souls are…laying dormant I guess?” 

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “Does that mean I’ve died prematurely? Is that why I’m here?” He asked, and Eddie laughed like it was the most idiotic thing he’d ever heard in his life. 

“No, Steve. You’re here because we’re…married.” Eddie said, putting air-quotes around the word ‘married’ with his fingers, something that Steve didn’t understand. He went quiet, studying Steve with unreadable eyes, “You don’t seem so bothered by it, though…y’know…that I’m a man.” 

Steve froze up, and he almost choked on the lungful of smoke he’d inhaled. “You seem to have uncovered the second reason why I couldn’t love Elizabeth.” He whispered, turning to Eddie who was already looking at him, eyes full of tenderness. 

“You never told me how you…passed.” He added after a beat of silence. 

Eddie sucked in a breath, and Steve was almost about to say he didn’t have to answer but he began to speak. “Well…nine years ago, this guy moved into town. My mother was a sales assistant…I know you don’t know what that means, so she had a lot of male customers, including him, but I don’t really think he was interested in what she was selling, if you get what I mean.” He snickered to himself, twirling a small chunk of hair around his fingers.

“He seemed…interested in me, so I began to see him, and we made plans to get married, get the fuck ‘outta there and leave back to California so we could get away from Neil.” He said, like Steve knew who Neil was. “However, somebody let it slip to my father and…well he didn’t exactly approve.” He paused for a second and swallowed harshly. 

“So we decided it would be a secret wedding, and when the day came around, I was ready to go. So I waited for him to show up. I waited and waited…until he finally showed up, but he was different; angry, and more violent than usual, and the next thing I know, everything went black and I woke up like this. I think I would’ve been twenty-eight if I had lived.” He said, gesturing down at himself. Steve felt his throat close up at the words. 

“So I made a vow that I’d wait until someone asked for my hand, and then you showed up…you said your vows so perfectly.” He said the last part in an almost whisper, giving his best smile, even though Steve could see the tears glittering in his eyes quite clearly under the street light. 

Steve cleared his throat slightly, “I do not wish to be rude, but…you sound awfully naive.” He said, and his stomach lurched with fear, almost convincing him in that very moment to take back his words and start apologising on his hands and knees when Eddie’s face fell flat and he went silent. 

Then, Eddie’s lips curled up into an amused smile, and he let out a small laugh. “I guess you’re right about that.” Steve was just glad that he hadn’t done anything to offend him. “He was so clearly into my mom, and I was just something he wanted to string along because…I let him, I guess?” 

Steve felt himself frown. “But…You didn’t invite him to do that to you. It’s absolutely appalling.” He hesitantly took the thumb that Eddie was biting to absolute shit out of his mouth, and he must’ve pulled a grimace or something because Eddie looked down sheepishly at his feet. “Really Eddie, I mean…I don’t know much about what it’s like in your time, but you still didn’t deserve anything he did.” 

Eddie waved him off slightly, pink blush high on his cheeks. “I really meant what I said, you said your vows perfectly…” There was something akin to shyness in Eddie’s eyes. Steve wanted to ignore the swirling feeling in his stomach. 

Steve’s eyes went wide at the sudden change in topic, and he cleared his throat, “I…I did?” He asked meekly. Eddie nodded his head, weak but still visible. 

Eddie seemed to suddenly draw in a tight breath, and Steve was wondering how someone’s mood could flicker so quickly. “Look, Steve…I think I’ve been selfish, bringing you here. I mean, you had a life…you had something waiting for you…and I just took it away from you.” Eddie muttered, picking at the raw seams of his black jeans. 

“I didn’t want what I had…I may be incredibly freaked out right now, but under all that fear, there’s an element of me that wants to explore whatever is going on here.” He admitted, “If there was a way for you to be…up there with me, I’d do it in a heartbeat. What happened to you - it was so unfair, Eddie.” 

Eddie mumbled something, almost completely silent. “Pardon?” Steve asked. 

“There is a way for me to be up there…but we’ll be something like phantoms to the living, they won’t know that we’re there.” Eddie said, his teeth digging into his bottom lip slightly. 

“That’s no different than how my life is normally.” Steve huffed, pushing himself to his knees before he held out his hand. Eddie looked up at him, confused. “Come on, let’s do the phantom thing.”

Steve and Eddie watched as an elder skeleton dropped a rather heavy looking book on a rickety old desk, scratching his skull with a bony finger as he flicked through the pages. 

The elder’s study was stacked floor to ceiling with crumbling books, fragile scrolls, charts, and rusted medieval instruments. Rickety shelves on the walls groaned in protest, bent underneath the weight of the many miscellaneous bottles and jars atop the wood. Crows seemed to follow them wherever they went, perched in the rafters, adding atmosphere to the layer of dust that seemed to congregate on every surface possible. 

The elder was ancient and gnarled, wearing a scholar-like cap and wire-rimmed glasses. 

“Please, Elder, surely there must be something you can do?” Eddie pleaded, and the skeleton looked rather unimpressed. 

“Why go up when you can stay down here? People are dying to get in.” Steve bit back a small smile as he watched Eddie roll his eyes and cross his arms over his chest. For someone who had been dead for nine years, he was an incredibly expressive character. 

Eddie shot the elder a look, wide eyes pleading in a way Steve wasn’t sure even he would be allowed to refuse. 

“Fine, I have it.” He groaned, and Eddie’s face broke into a wide smile. “It’s just the thing for these quick trips. None of the fuss of corporeal travel.” He said, pushing his glasses up what was left of his nose bridge. 

“Such a thing is possible?” Steve asked, getting an affirmative noise in response. 

“Certainly. But not needed here.’ He said, shooting him a pointed look which made Steve want to turn into a puddle of embarrassment where he was standing - he felt like baggage, causing so much fuss like this. 

Steve and Eddie lean in closer, looking over the book; so distracted that they didn’t notice the way their pinkies were almost linked together where they were pushed so close. 

Finally, the elder stops flicking through the book. “Ah! Here. And we have everything we need.” He said. 

The two men watched as the skeleton took a strange speckled egg from a bowl, staying silent as he began to mumble a spell, suddenly looking up when he was finished. He gave the best smile he could, being just bones. 

“Just remember, when you want to come back, just say ‘hopscotch’.” He said, cracking the egg over their heads. The two of them braced themselves for a yolk, but all that came was a strange, sparkling powder. Then they were out like a light. 

When Steve blinked his eyes open, he found himself standing in a graveyard, Eddie right by his side. 

“I forgot how pretty the moon is…” Eddie whispered, looking up at the sky before he blinked back to Steve, a smile on his lips again. He took an experimental swipe at a tree, satisfaction gracing his features as his hand passed straight through. “See? Phantom, it’s so cool.” 

Steve watched, stuck in one spot as Eddie began to laugh; he wandered around the clearing, disappearing for a few seconds before reappearing again. He must’ve been stupidly wide-eyed as he stayed transfixed on the way Eddie’s ponytail bounced as he moved around, and how the wild look in his eyes morphed into calm happiness. 

“Which house is yours?” Eddie asked once he finished exploring in the forest. Steve was still obviously staring. 

“O-Oh. Uhm…” He paused, “That one, I guess. That’s where my mother and father are right now.” He pointed to the looming Everglot mansion, still so sickeningly grand from the back that it made him pale in the face. 

“Someone’s overcompensating for something.” Eddie snickered, and Steve felt like he was witnessing somebody else’s conversation. 

“What?” He asked, eyebrows knitting in confusion, but it just seemed to make Eddie’s snicker turn into a full-blown laugh. 

“Nothing, I’ll explain it to you some other time.” Steve just scrunched up his nose, moving to follow as Eddie immediately began striding towards the large building. 

He stayed a few paces behind the other, still so hesitant at the possibility of being seen. “Will they…Will they see us?” He asked, and Eddie paused, causing him to bump into his back with a startled noise. 

“I mean, maybe? I haven’t been back here before because I had no reason to…I probably should’ve asked the elder before we came here.” Eddie seemed embarrassed that he had overlooked that possibility, and Steve found it almost sweet that a deep blush clambered up the back of Eddie’s neck. 

Eddie’s head turned, and they made eye contact over his shoulder. “If they do see you, what are they gonna say? ‘I saw the ghost of Steve through a window.’ They’ll probably believe that they got like…possessed or something.” He chuckled, and Steve’s head felt suddenly fuzzy as he grew hot-cheeked. 

Then, Eddie grabbed his hand and he was dragged towards the only lit section of the building, the drawing room if Steve remembered correctly. His stomach twisted with anticipation, his eyes catching on somebody’s silhouette through the lace drapery which he could just see over Eddie’s unruly head of hair. 

Cold established itself in his stomach, and Steve could practically hear his heartbeat in his ears. 

Eddie suddenly turned around to face him fully, “You know…We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Seriously, we could just hang out in the forest, it’s completely fine with me.” He said, hands sliding into the back pockets of his black jeans. Steve’s face must’ve scrunched up in confusion again, because a smile cracked onto his features. 

“Jesus dude, ‘hang out’ means like…Spending time with each other, not doing anything I guess.” Eddie supplied, and Steve mulled over the two options he had. 

Then, he took a deep breath and shook his head to clear his thoughts. “No…I want to see what’s going on.” He mumbled, eyes now trained on the moving shadows through the lace. “If I get too overwhelmed, we can go ‘hang out’ for a while.” He finished, his words hesitant as he stumbled around the phrase.

Eddie’s smile was wide and fond, a look that Steve rarely got from anyone else in his life. It made him feel…Wanted, loved, even. That thought made his head spin a little. 

“Okay…Yeah, we can hang out, just another time, I promise.” He whispered around his grin, and turned around again, setting a fast pace that Steve almost had to run to keep up with. 

There was a small slit in the bottom of the lace that Steve watched Eddie peek through, a small patch of his face illuminated by the yellow glow that came from the lighting in the room. He let out an amused snort, “You guys really do live in fancy little houses, don’t you?” He chuckled, turning around to meet his eyes again. 

He shot Eddie a pointed glare, which caused him to roll his eyes and nod, peering back into the window. “They’re just…talking, I guess. There’s this guy, he’s got a bell in his hand.” 

“Why is the town crier there?” Steve muttered, and it was Eddie’s turn to pull a confused face. “They tell us the news.” He added, but that confused look stayed. 

“Don’t you guys have like…newspapers?” He asked. 

“Well yeah, but I don’t know why that’s relevant right now.” Eddie just put his hands on his hips. 

“Why do you need a town crier if you have newspapers?” Steve blanked, thinking over the question for a second. 

“I don’t actually…just get back to looking through the window.” He sighed, watching as Eddie wordlessly turned again. 

“So I’m guessing that you’re marrying the one with the brown hair…unless your parents think you’re into older women?” Steve let out an amused huff. 

“I don’t really think my mother and father care about who I’m ‘into’ at this point, they’re just desperate to get titles and such.” He mumbled, picking at his nails a little and Eddie’s shoulders hunched up in what must’ve been a wince. “What is it?” Steve asked, now on high alert. 

“I’m convinced that your…fiancé just clocked me, and now she’s talking to somebod-'' Eddie started, but then his sentence stopped suddenly. “Okay, yeah. Let's get moving, like now.” 

Steve was already going along with Eddie’s hand wrapped around his wrist before he even knew what they were running from. 

“What’s the matter? Are they after us?” He asked, and Eddie shot him a deadpan look over his shoulder that shut him right up. If they were behind them, they must be getting quite a picture; his ghostly form being dragged into the empty chapel, led by a strange man from a hundred years in the future.

He would have laughed if he wasn’t so worried about what would happen if they caught up to them. 

Eventually, Eddie had dragged them quite literally through the large front doors of the chapel, which had been quite the strange experience. He hadn’t actually tried to phase through anything; in his mind, he assumed that something would prevent him from going through properly, and he’d be stuck awkwardly in the entryway. But no, it was more like a slight chill going through your body than anything, like a cold spoon dipping into a sugary gelatin dessert. 

He felt almost amused as Eddie let out curses when they phased through doors that led to rooms not deemed ‘secluded’ enough for Eddie’s tastes. 

Finally, they reached a small room underneath the stone floor. The door was locked, so there was little to no chance of the two families finding them without securing the key from the bishop, who was probably sound asleep if his pocket watch was correct. This seemed to be the place where the Eucharist was stored, so it was a little bit more secure than other areas. 

Then suddenly, the sounds of deep breaths were caught by his ears, and he turned to look at the rather comical sight of Eddie with his hands braced on his knees, body hunched forwards as he took deep gulps of the dusty air surrounding them. 

“What the hell, dude? How are you not completely exhausted from all that running? We ran like…four whole blocks in less than two minutes.” Eddie panted, his voice cutting off at certain points so he could take more gulps of air. 

“I ride horses, I have quite good stamina.” Steve answered matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Eddie looked up at him through his lashes, “Really? Good to know.” He whispered, and Steve tried to ignore the underlying tone in his voice. 

Steve lifted one of his arms to rub at the back of his neck, a trait he picked up when he was seven. “So what do we do now?” He asked, cautiously resting a hip on what he assumed was a crate of possibly communion wine. Eddie slid to the floor with a dramatic sigh. 

“Now,” He started, “We wait until they give up searching for them. Could be minutes, maybe hours. If we don’t get out by sunrise, we’ll just be sent back to the elder.” Eddie said before he slid down to the floor, chest still rising and falling at such a rapid pace that Steve was surprised he didn’t like…die all over again?

“Do you…breathe? I thought you were dead, sorry if that offends you.” Steve asked, and the other man simply laughed, a stupidly pretty smile on his face. He kinda wanted to crawl into a hole out of embarrassment. 

“Since I chose not to like, move on I guess, I kept some of my human traits. Like, I blink,” He said, closing his eyelids in an exaggerated manner, “You can see I can breathe, and I can taste things.” A shiver went through Eddie’s body. “Oh yeah, I can get cold, too.” He added. 

Steve’s eyebrows creased with confusion. “Taste things? Well what do you eat?” He asked, and Eddie seemed to contemplate for a second. 

“It’s like no different to what’s up here, but it has stuff you probably couldn’t even imagine down there, as in food that’s in the future for you.” He explained, and it just added more onto the pile of confusion in Steve’s brain, but he nodded anyway. 

By now, Steve had made his way over to where he guessed Eddie was sitting - the room was relatively dark and the man didn’t exactly make it easy to figure out where he was due to the exclusively dark clothing he wore. It didn’t strike him as wedding attire, but maybe things were different in the future. 

It seemed that he had guessed right, as Eddie’s shoulders came to press against his own when he sat down. Even though it was a rather cold October night, he felt incredibly warm from the running they did - he didn’t go completely unaffected. So, he let his suit jacket fall to the floor, leaving him still as uncomfortable as before, just without the jacket’s added weight; his waistcoat still pinched his sides and his tie was still annoyingly tight. 

Then there was light snoring coming from next to him, and he looked over at how Eddie had miraculously fallen asleep, his figure curled inward slightly. It made him look…sweet in a strange way, fragile even. 

Eddie being asleep gave him a chance to mull over what had happened in the past couple of days. First he had been nothing short of ambushed by his parents with the news that he was to get married to some girl who he had never even met before, let alone developed feelings for. Then less than seven hours later, he was on his way to the Everglot mansion in an itchy suit to meet the mother and father of the bride, as well as complete the rehearsal dinner. 

Then, he had embarrassed himself in front of the girl, then he had basically blurted out that he would never be able to love her, to which she got incredibly bitter about, as if they had been courting each other at any point beforehand. Steve sympathised with the girl, he really did; he was essentially her future, and the future of the Everglot name, and their marriage was probably the only thing she ever had to look forward to, but he really couldn’t bear to marry someone like that. 

Additionally, he had completely fucked up the rehearsal dinner by setting his future mother-in-law’s dress on fire, not to mention how he had immediately fled, likely ruining his parents’ possibility of going somewhere in life. 

Then he met Eddie, and consequently passed out. Now they were somehow phantom creatures who were hiding in a church basement, pressed against each other far too closely to be platonic. 

He had never felt so…alive before. Not even when he was dipping between trees with some boy he’d met at church, or sneaking his way into his mother’s jewelry box to see how her expensive pearls looked around his neck; he never really figured out how she afforded them. 

His nerves froze up when a weight landed on his shoulder, and he didn’t have to look to figure out that the other’s head had lolled onto him. His ears heated up and he tried to ignore how Eddie smelled; he didn’t smell bad like Steve was expecting him to, instead he smelled like sweat and nicotine, which oddly didn’t bother him in the same way Elizabeth’s lavender perfume choked him up. 

Eddie was strangely warm for a dead person, and his hair was quite soft where it tickled his nose. His eyelashes were long and would press against his cheeks whenever his face twitched in his sleep, sometimes his nose would scrunch for a second and his fingers would bend sometimes, as if he was grabbing something. 

Steve realised he had been staring for far too long, so he cleared his throat a little, the redness on his ears getting even darker. He guessed Eddie wasn’t the worst looking dead person he could’ve accidentally proposed to, he could’ve accidentally married some asshole politician or something who died of, like, consumption. 

Or he could be married to a vampire or something. When he was growing up, his mother would tell him stories about blood-sucking creatures that came back from the dead to get back some of the life that was drained from them by some viral illness. It made him shudder to think. 

So yeah, it could be worse. He could’ve been turned into a long strip of smoked meat, drained of all his blood, but he wasn’t. Instead, his ring was wrapped around the finger of a man from one-hundred years in the future, and said man was currently drooling on his shoulder, making a small patch of his dress shirt stick to his skin. 

His eyes began to slip closed, and his breathing began to even out. 

The sound of a fist against the door snapped the both of them out of their slumber. Steve would’ve taken a second to check whether or not Eddie’s hair was sticking up comically from where he had rested on his shoulder, but he was currently half way to shitting his pants as they could hear a conversation on the other side of the door. 

“Eddie,” He whispered, “What the fuck do we do?” He asked, and Eddie's mouth pinched closed, doing that thing where he contemplates over stuff silently. It was definitely not needed right now.

“I mean, we could either say the word and go back now, or we could just go through the door and start running again.” Eddie whispered before a large smile spread across his face. “I don’t know about you, but I’m enjoying the thrill, man. Live a little.” He added, tone almost manic. 

“But- what if they do something, like-“ Steve started, getting up from the ground too. 

Eddie huffed out a small laugh, “They can’t do anything, Steve. Phantoms, remember?” He asked, making a show of waving his hand through one of the crates in a show-like fashion. 

Steve ran a hand through his hair, a habit he picked up when he got nervous, one that his mother would scold him for. He still nodded, perhaps a bit hesitant and unsure but he trusted Eddie, even though he hadn’t known him for very long. 

Maybe Eddie was right about that finding each other thing. 

The banging got louder, and Steve’s hand found Eddie’s, body almost working on autopilot. Eddie didn’t seem to mind, in fact, his hand tightened around Steve’s as he began to drag them back towards the door. 

“You ready?” Eddie asked, looking over his shoulder, and Steve felt like he had been hit with a tonne of bricks. Eddie’s eyes were wide and bright, and his smile was slightly softer; he knew that in that question, there was a silent check-in that Steve knew wouldn’t disappoint Eddie, no matter what his answer may be. 

Steve nodded, and moved his hand slightly so that their fingers were entwined, and if he had looked at Eddie’s face at that moment, he would’ve seen the burning scarlet that branded the metalhead’s face. 

He let himself be pulled, eyes scrunched tightly closed, hoping it would somehow make him invisible to the people on the other side of the door. He visibly cringed as he heard the talking stop the moment the chill passed through his body, still holding onto Eddie’s hand like a lifeboat. 

“Evening.” Eddie quipped, and Steve would have laughed if he could actually make his vocal cords work at that moment. It was completely silent; you could’ve heard a pin drop. Eddie then let out a low whistle, “Beautiful place here, quaint, I really must say.”

He slowly opened his eyes, and he saw a multitude of things all at once; first, the fact that Eddie’s face was gleaming with a large smile. Second, the way Elizabeth looked like she was about to faint, his mother about to do the same, and third, his father’s knuckles almost going white where he was gripping the lamp in his hand. It made him crack a small smile. 

Eddie snapped his fingers suddenly, “This has been fun, really good conversation,” He said, adding an over-exaggerated wink towards Steve’s father, “But uhm, we’ve got somewhere to be, so we’ll be on our way.” He said, attempting to grasp Mr Everglot’s hand in a handshake, chuckling slightly when it passed straight through. 

“Not even a laugh for that?” He asked, turning towards Steve. “C’mon Steve, places to be.” Then he was pulling them both up the stairs. 

When they got to the main floor of the church, Steve almost immediately crumpled to the floor, taking Eddie thundering down with him. 

“You good there?” Eddie asked, and Steve lifted his head, finally making eye contact after what felt like hours, even if it really was less than five minutes ago when he was panicking against the wall. 

Steve nodded, “I’m fine…I think I just need a moment to figure out whether that actually happened, or if I’m daydreaming.” Eddie snorted, eyebrows pinching together in amusement. 

“I could, like, pinch you or something.” Eddie suggested, folding his legs up to his chest, chin resting on his knees as he took in Steve’s eye roll with full attention. Being under Eddie’s gaze made him feel all crumbly and fuzzy in a strange way; don’t get him wrong, he didn’t hate it, it was just…foreign, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

He felt his eyelid twitch slightly when Eddie absentmindedly took a bit of his hair between his fingers and brought it in front of his face, almost using the dark curls to hide himself from Steve’s undoubtedly eagle-ish gaze. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Eddie asked, twisting his hair slightly with his fingers. 

Steve tilted his head slightly to the side, “Like what?” He asked, feigning ignorance as he picked slightly at his cuticles. Eddie made an exasperated noise in the back of his throat, though it was tinged with something else. 

“I don’t know, man. You’re like-“ Eddie started, his eyes peering around in what must’ve been caution, “Looking at me as if your family couldn’t come back up those stairs at any second, Steve.” He said, voice uncharacteristically soft and small. 

Now, Steve couldn’t tell you what possessed him at that moment; whether it was the way Eddie was suddenly shy and slightly hiding behind his hair, or the unyielding urge he apparently had to shower Eddie in all the attention he would ever need in the entire expanse of his existence, but whatever it was, it made something flare up from within him, something primal yet incredibly sweet at the same time. 

“I’m not quite sure that I…care about that, right now.” Steve admitted, biting the inside of his cheek, apparently obvious enough that it made Eddie smile. 

“Really? What inspired the sudden change?” Eddie challenged, leaning in slightly further than what Steve was used to. “Got something else on your mind?” He asked, and Steve’s mind must’ve choked and fallen to the side or something. 

They were approaching a dangerous area, one that symbolised something Steve had only felt a couple of times in his life, an area that would change the trajectory of the attitude he had towards himself, as well as that seemingly unkillable want and longing that had awakened in him fairly recently, though he couldn’t quite put a finger on what had caused it. 

But he wanted to satiate that desire, needed to, in fact. 

Steve cleared his throat softly, the hardness of his teeth clinking together with how suddenly he closed his mouth in order to swallow down all the nervousness the best he could. “You…You could say that…” Steve said, shyness making its presence known in his words. 

“You know, we never had our first dance.” Eddie said, dropping the lock of hair that had twisted around his index and middle fingers. 

Steve was so confused; first he was incredibly freaked out because Eddie was…dead. But now, he wanted to kiss him senseless, and it made absolutely no sense, especially because he could literally wail out and be free from whatever fever dream he was having.

But he wasn’t sure he wanted to. 

Steve huffed out a breath before he began to stand up, his hand grasping Eddie’s as he brought him to his feet at the same time. He gripped Eddie’s right hand in his left, the other resting on Eddie’s waist while Eddie’s left hand came to rest on his shoulder. Steve began to sway them slowly, and he cracked a small smile at the absurdity of it all. 

“There’s no music, Steve.” Eddie said, taking in Steve’s easy smile with fondness. 

“We don’t need it.” Steve replied, but he began to hum under his breath anyway, much to Eddie’s delight. He felt the metal band of the rings dig into his shoulder and it wasn’t as nausea inducing as it was before. 

“…Steve?” Eddie asked, and Steve hummed in return. Then, the hand on his shoulder moved to his neck, and suddenly Eddie was kissing him. He was kissing a corpse, an undead person, and the corpse was kissing him back. 

He didn’t believe in love at first sight, it was a silly thing. Something that mothers would tell their little girls in a story just before they went to sleep, so Steve doubted it was love that had caused all this. Now, with Eddie’s lips on his own, it dropped like a boulder in his stomach; he was being forced into another marriage. 

When he suddenly pulled away, he tried to ignore the disappointed sound he got from the other. 

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked, and Steve wanted to throw up. He just kissed a corpse, one that he was married to. 

“…Eddie…I…” Steve said dumbly, suddenly pulling himself away from Eddie until there was a meter distance between them. He tried to ignore the flash of pain that crossed his face. 

Then he was running out of the chapel, tearing his way through the dense treeline, a mirror of what he had done when Eddie first showed up. His suit was now incredibly tattered, earning rips in the fabric as he weaved between the wood. Eddie was probably following him, or it was those stupid crows making all that noise. 

Suddenly, his foot snagged on the corner of a gravestone, sending him tumbling face first into the stone. He looked down, incredibly confused as to how it had managed to make him fall over. He was going to start getting up, but he was confronted with Eddie coming back into view, bent over in front of him while he caught his breath. 

“How did…Why did…” Steve said uselessly, and Eddie’s head snapped up to him. 

“Whenever you come into contact with anything…dead…you’re able to actually touch it. That’s why we could…you know…” Eddie whispered, shying away a little at the mention of the kiss. 

Steve managed to find his footing once again and began to slowly back away, his steps small and quiet so it didn’t immediately alert the other man and hurt his feelings more than he already had. Eddie’s brows were pinched, not in confusion, but in hurt and betrayal. 

“You can’t just…” Eddie started, voice startlingly wet as he paused to suck in a deep breath. “Hopscotch.” He spat, and Steve felt sickness wash over him at the tone. Then he felt like nothing, like a gust of wind had passed by and he was miraculously made of dust, floating endlessly without knowing if he’d ever be whole again.  

But as suddenly as the sensation came, it was gone, and he was back in the elder’s study, a slightly trembling Eddie by his side. He risked a glance, blood running cold with icy guilt as he took in the tears threatening to spill from dark eyes, and the way Eddie’s hands were wound into tight fists at his sides, borderline painful-looking. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but Eddie beat him to it. “Fuck you, Steve.” He said, voice mostly steady, save for the slight tremble that formed around the letters of Steve’s name. Then Eddie was the one leaving, only this time, he wasn’t running like Steve was so used to doing himself - no. Eddie was walking, he was seemingly calm, though the sharp angle of his shoulders gave away his dampened mood. 

“Eddie- wait-“ He yelled, body kicking into gear and finally moving towards Eddie’s slowly darkening figure. 

It was like as soon as he fucked up, the whole population knew of it. He got stares that couldn’t hide the bitterness that people felt; obviously this would fuck everything up, he was a living person, probably intruding on their safe-haven of the afterlife. 

Steve knew it was stupid, but as soon as Eddie turned the corner and he went to follow, it was like Eddie had never been there in the first place. The roads he had run through not even six hours prior seemed unfamiliar, however that could’ve just been because he was in the middle of an existential crisis so he wasn’t exactly spending his time sight-seeing. 

“Eddie?” Steve yelled, head whipping around in a way that made his neck protest. It would ache the next time he woke up in the morning, but that didn’t really matter - he’d never felt this guilty before. 

It’s not like he had anything to compare this situation to; it’s not exactly every day when you kiss someone and then immediately bolt away into the middle of an apparently haunted forest, but something about how Eddie looked absolutely shattered made his head spin and his chest to ache, like something with big ugly claws had reached forward and plucked his heart out, leaving a gaping wound in its wake. 

It would be easy to just push it aside and avoid Eddie for as long as possible, but that would be like putting a thin scrap of fabric over the bloody hole in his torso - sure it would hide it somewhat and look like it was helping, but he was just bleeding out into the fibers of the linnen, crimson would still ruin pristine white fabric, and he would still be on the brink of folding over and crumpling away in a mind-numbing amount of pain. 

Steve slumped against a wall, paint slowly peeling off of the bricks in paper-thin spirals that would’ve made his mother grimace, but that wasn’t that big of a statement as she always seemed to be grimacing at something. If she wasn’t grimacing at something embarrassing his father said, it was how the house looked - and if it wasn’t that, she was grimacing at Steve’s whole existence. 

It was always, ‘Stephen, you really must get married soon.’, or, ‘You aren’t doing me or your father any favours, Stephen.’, but her favourite was, ‘You don’t want your father to find out, do you Stephen?’ 

She’d say that last one with a sharp sneer, and he would shake his head while trying to ignore the tears in his eyes, biting down the bitter feeling with a small, ‘No, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am.’ 

He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, cursing himself for being so close to tears already when he had realistically no reason to be crying in the first place, Eddie was the one allowed to cry. Steve wasn’t blind; he saw how Eddie’s face crumbled when he drew his arms away, far too quickly for him to not jump to conclusions. 

Then there was the small sound of sniffing, followed by someone mumbling words that Steve could not decipher. It was like his hearing had become a million times better, like a dog. 

“What have you done?” A rather angry voice asked from behind him, and Steve immediately turned around, body going rigid and tense as he came face to face with the owner of the voice. 

She was blonde, but her hair was short, and she was wearing what must’ve been tudor clothing, though she was missing the white bonnet from her head. She seemed to be forever soaked, hair dripping murky water and her lips blue, skin somehow paler than Eddie’s. She seemed furious at him. 

Steve’s eyebrows pinched. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” He asked, and she crossed her arms over her chest. 

She shook her head, and Steve was surprised to find out that though her hair was drenched, no water came loose from the strands. “What did you do to Eddie?” She asked, her words coming out slowly, as if she was talking to a toddler. 

His stomach dropped, “I…Well,” He stammered, swallowing heavily under her unforgiving gaze. 

“Robin-“ Eddie’s voice suddenly came, but when Steve looked in his direction, he felt incredibly faint. 

When Steve awoke again, he was laying on his back in the middle of the forest, covered in a slight layer of sweat, even though it was an incredibly cold night; that was if his senses weren’t deceiving him. He haphazardly swiped a hand in the direction of a thick tree stump to his left, and he let out a yelp when his palm came into contact with the wood, no longer able to phase through anything. 

He sat up and stared down at his hand, body filling with panic as he saw blood coming to the surface, as if he had never bled a single time in his life. His head turned around in a desperate attempt to locate any sight of Eddie, but he could see nothing, only the vast darkness of the thick forest. 

“Shit,” Steve mumbled, slowly bringing himself to his feet. He was back, and being back meant that time travelled normally, meaning morning would come and he would be found by somebody he really didn’t want to see. 

If it wasn’t his parents, it would be the pastor, and Steve would genuinely prefer vomiting into his own mouth and swallowing it back down over having to look at that grim face and twisted snarl. Sure if he was religious, it would probably be bad to say that about a pastor, but at this point, he’d seriously not think twice before stomping out the porcelain rosary in his pocket like a cigarette. 

“Eds?” He whisper-yelled, his dress shoes making the leaves crunch under his feet as he took cautious steps backwards. 

It was like he was being pulled towards where Eddie had died, like something akin to a magnet had replaced his heart in the bleeding gape that was his chest, its whole purpose to drag him back to the man, even when he was in the overworld. He looked down into the empty ditch where Eddie had once laid, crouching down slightly before cupping his hands around his mouth to whisper. 

“Eddie, if you can hear me…” He stopped to lick his lips, the cold clawing away at the slightly tender skin, making them tight and uncomfortably dry. “I’m really, really sorry. I did not wish to hurt you, you must believe me…It was just quite overwhelming.” He said, swallowing down the hurt that had crawled its way up his throat, leaving a nauseating taste in his mouth. 

“I can come back here every day, wait until you come back.” The last part was mumbled, and he left a few beats of silence, just in case Eddie was actually there. He tried to ignore the sinking disappointment he felt when nothing filled the silence. “That is if you want to come back. I understand why you would never wish to speak to me again…I just wish we could’ve done that ‘hang out’ thing.” 

Steve was unsure of how much time had passed since that night in the forest; maybe it had been a day, or maybe a week. Not that it mattered anyway - if anything, it may have meant that the Everglots had to cancel the wedding due to his impromptu disappearance. He smiled at the possibility. 

Not wanting to be discovered due to the rapid decreasing of darkness he had, Steve had to find himself somewhere to hide. 

He wondered if staging his own death would be of any use, but then again there was the option to actually cut his time short - it would mean that he was able to apologise to Eddie sooner instead of talking to his frozen-over dirt pit that was once his resting place. 

But doing that would be rather hasty, would it not?

Anyway, it wasn’t like he had a good excuse for it. For all his family knew, he was already dead and in an entanglement with some strange young boy, and if news of that ever got out, needless to say his head would be put on a metaphorical spike and paraded around town in some sickening display of ‘look! Our family is normal again!’. His knees folded as he squatted down, taking a deep breath to try and shake away thoughts of an untimely death at the hands of his parents, and the smallest amount of crude wanting for it to happen. 

“God Eddie, what have you done to me?” He asked the open air, getting nothing in return but a gust of wind that went straight through him and made him shiver. He was choosing the cowardly option; blaming Eddie instead of himself, but he was the one who ran. 

When he finally got up, his knees made an awful clicking sound, and he would’ve paid some mind to it if his mind wasn’t occupied with the thought of just finding somewhere to sleep. He hadn’t noticed it before, but he was completely exhausted, his body on the brink of crumbling, like somebody had come over and punched him square in the spine. 

But he couldn’t just stay there and dwindle in his own self pity, so he chose a direction that seemed clear enough, and just hoped that it would lead him somewhere good. 

As he ducked between the branches which seemed to conveniently be in his way whenever he walked further into the forest, he saw what seemed to be a rickety old shed not too far ahead. If he wasn’t so preoccupied, his fight or flight response would’ve kicked in, and he would’ve turned heel and ran. But no, he just kept on walking straight towards his target. He was cold, and tired, and still strangely sweaty, so he just wanted to go to sleep already, no matter the cost. 

So that’s why he didn’t see the large stone well right in the middle of his path. 

It was quite low on the ground, and it made its presence known by hitting Steve’s right leg, the hard surface almost slamming into his shin, like it had purposefully moved to inconvenience him. Steve let out a hiss through his teeth, mouth opening to yell in anger at the inanimate object, trying to claw desperately at something to project his emotions onto, because it wasn’t like he could do it any other way; he had nothing to write on, and nobody to talk to. He was just so…frustrated with himself. 

How could he have let it go this far? He should’ve immediately told Eddie that he was still trying to comprehend everything that had happened, and he definitely shouldn’t have kissed him.

“God, he must think I’m such a…fool.” He said to the open air, resisting the urge to pick up a heavy rock and pelt it at one of the crows still hanging around him, or even better yet, throw one down the stupid old well until the satisfying splash of it hitting the surface of the water reached his ears. 

He dropped his head into his hands and rubbed at his temples, trying to ward away the growing migraine from making his night worse than it already was. 

“I think I’d use a much stronger word than ‘fool’.” A voice came, and Steve immediately whipped his head around, meeting the vaguely familiar face of the soaked girl from earlier - Robin, he presumed from how Eddie had referred to her moments before Steve was sent back to the land of the living. 

She was perched on the edge of the well, dangerously close to falling into its depths, but Steve guessed that none of that really mattered once you were dead. “Well- as strong as I possibly could; I didn’t live long enough to learn the most foul insults,” She said, standing up and somehow making Steve feel incredibly small, even though he was noticeably taller than her. 

“However, when I look at you, Stephen Otis Harrington; I see nothing short of an absolute cumberworld, and you seem completely spineless.” She spat, which made Steve slink back slightly into himself. 

“I-I’m not even sure what a cumberworld even is.” He mumbled weakly, his voice tight and almost breaking in the middle of his sentence. Robin scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. He tried to move backwards, just to put some space between them, but it was like his feet were magnetised to the earth, its hold unforgiving in every sense as it forced him to stand there and take the bitter words. 

Robin worried her bottom lip with her teeth, almost hesitant in her speech, “I don’t know what you did to him, but Eddie is very easily hurt, and he doesn’t seem to trust people that easily. I’m quite frankly surprised that he even considered talking to you in the first place.” She stopped, looking him straight in the eyes with her cold, dead gaze. “But whatever you did, I expect you to fix it. I will not lose him because of your idiotic decisions.” She finished, voice weighted with something Steve couldn’t quite decipher. 

Steve took a moment to seriously consider his words, clearing his throat slightly before he spoke. “How long until…until Eddie wishes to see me again?” He asked, somehow managing to escape Robin’s eyes, instead feigning interest in the marks his footsteps left in the thick snow. 

“I don’t know, he didn’t tell me. I mean, I’ve seen him like this before, but never this bad,” Steve rolled his eyes at the attempt to make him feel worse than he already was. “It could be days, maybe weeks. Possibly longer.” Steve felt nauseous at the thought of it being weeks before Eddie even attempted to make contact with him. 

Robin seemed to stop and give him a silent once-over, eyes laced with possible pity in those icy blue irises. “I’m willing to be a messenger between the two of you, but don’t expect me to force him to see you. It isn’t wise to make Eddie do anything in this state.” She stated, and it felt like a silent promise. 

That made hope swell in his chest.

That hope seemed to be very short-lived, as the days dragged into one week, and then into a second week before he was able to see Eddie again. Steve had kept track by carving a tally into the rotting walls of the cabin he was staying in with a small knife he had found while he snooped around. It was honestly pathetic. 

He must’ve smelled by the time he saw him, as he had nowhere to bathe or wash his clothes. But it didn’t matter when he finally got a lungful of nicotine and sweat, and an eyeful of curly brown hair, wide brown eyes, and pretty pink lips. It was like all of the air had been knocked out of his lungs, and he had to blink a couple of times to make sure it was real, but this was no vision, Eddie was standing in front of him, giving unknown personality to the inside of the shelter.

“Eddie?” He asked, voice croaking embarrassingly as he scrambled to regulate his breathing. “Is it really- are you…” His brows furrowed, “Why did you come back?” He asked, and Eddie’s skin flushed pink at the cheeks. 

Eddie pursed his lips in thought, and Steve’s mind immediately ached to feel them against his own. “I had to, Steve. It wouldn’t have been fair to leave you in the dark like that.” Eddie whispered, and Steve’s eyes darted to the very burnt down candle on the table not too far from where they were standing. 

“I- Well, don’t you think I rather deserved it for what I did to you?” He asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. “It was completely horrible, and you did nothing wrong for me to treat you this way.” He added, which Eddie scoffed at. “I’m sorry, is something funny?” Steve asked, and Eddie shrugged his shoulders, shuffling his hands into his pockets. 

The muscles in his arms seemed to pull taunt under his thin sleeves at the movement, and Steve had to force his eyes away before he did something stupid. “I mean not much, except that you’re forgetting that I was the one who, like, forced you to be with me.” He stated, voice flat in a matter-of-fact way that made Steve bite back a small smile at the tone. 

“So…where do we go from here?” Steve muttered cautiously, “Do you wish for me to go back with you? I would appreciate a chance to do so. I really am sorry.” He confessed, taking a small step forwards to test the waters, and much to his luck, Eddie didn’t move away, he didn’t even blink at the decreased space between them. “I think I’d also like to prove to that young lady that I meant no harm, she seems like she wishes to strike me down.” 

Eddie moved his head in a slight nod, “Yeah, Robin gets quite…overprotective sometimes…” He said, voice slightly distant as he twirled a lock of hair around his finger, looking anywhere but Steve’s eyes. “But Steve, I’m not sure if you coming back is such a good idea, you see-“

There it was, the final kick in the gut which the universe had handed to him in sharp, prying claws. The fact that Eddie’s voice held no malice; no anger, but so much guilt made his heart sink to his stomach, that oh so familiar feeling of dread settling like a ball of lead in the centre of his body. 

Of course Eddie’s return came with a catch, something so cruel, shielded behind a pretty face and round brown eyes. 

“W-What?” He asked, voice dry and desperate, that special shade of pathetic which seemed to fit him so perfectly, no matter how happy he was. “Eddie, I don’t- Then why would you even visit me?” Eddie shrunk in on himself, and Steve would’ve taken more notice if he wasn’t already so confused. At first, Eddie had been upset at him for leaving, but now he was the one leaving, for good. 

“I just…wanted to tell you in person, I guess.” Eddie argued, his voice weak and apologetic. “I would’ve felt guilty if I just left you to wonder why I didn’t come back.” He added, but to Steve it just sounded like constant avoidance; cold, hard, dead avoidance. 

“But Eddie- I want to know you better, I really do. I want to ‘hang out’ with you, like you promised we would.” Steve voiced, and he placed both hands on Eddie’s shoulders - or at least he attempted to, and he became heartbroken when he realised his hands went straight through. “You…you promised.” He whispered, voice dying out in his chest as it became wet with tears. 

Then those tears began to fall. First it was one, then it felt like a million all at once, salty water rolling down his cheeks like shards of glass making his sorrows visible. Eddie seemed to visibly panic at the sight, and cut off words seemed to tumble out of his mouth, yet they fell silent on Steve’s ears. 

“I know I did, Steve. And I’m really sorry, but it’s for the best.” He almost yelled, normal voice being drowned out by the sounds of the cries. “I have to go. You may never see me again, but just know that it was nice to meet you, yeah?” Steve was too occupied to hear him, instead all he heard was the blood pumping in his ears and a sharp intake of breath. 

When he looked back up through wet lashes, Eddie was gone, and all that was left was the faint smell of nicotine in the air where he once stood. 

After Eddie left, Steve spent days waiting for his return. He even went to the well to try and make contact with Robin, but it seemed like word had gotten out that Eddie no longer wanted to see him, so she was gone too. The human mind can only take so much tugging before it snapped, and Steve’s breaking moment came when exhaustion was too much, and everything was just too convenient. He couldn’t continue his life, it was completely ruined, all because Steve had gotten swept off of his feet by a dead man one hundred years his senior. 

The tip of the blade only hurt a little when he pressed it to the delicate flesh of his chest over his clothes, but nothing had prepared him for the gaping wound to finally become material, to become real and painful. 

As the skin and muscles were pried open by the steel, his nerves felt rubbed raw, and Steve was almost horrified with how warm his own blood felt as it dripped down his wrist, staining the pristine cuff of his wedding attire with deep crimson. He took a deep breath. 

As he closed his eyes one last time, he smelled the scent of nicotine burning under his nose, and he saw the faint fluttering of a butterfly in the darkness behind his eyelids.

Then nothing.