Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Thomas, as anyone who has ever been able to speak with the man for longer than a single minute would tell you, was an incredibly passionate man. Whenever there was something he wanted, he would fixate on it, the thoughts of whatever it was he had thought of that week never leaving his mind until he had somehow managed to act on them.

That was why, roughly 6 months after the Captain and Havers had left Button House, both alive and well- that Thomas had a thought that he would not be able to shake for the next two weeks. They’d been sitting in the upstairs living room with everyone, the sun catching on the dark red peeling wallpaper as they were discussing the possible forming of a sports team at Button House. Thomas hadn’t been paying attention though, his mind had been wondering off to 6 months earlier, when Havers had somehow- through means still very much unknown to Thomas, brought their very own resident WW2 Captain back to life. How jealous he’d been of the man. Thomas had generally always been fine with being a ghost, apart from the inability to write down his poetry, and of course his lack of a physical form in the pursuit of Alison. But as far as lives went, he supposed dwelling at Button House where it was familiar, was better than moving to whatever unknown was waiting for them on the other side- if there even was such a thing.

But, he hated to admit that his opinion on the matter had changed slightly over the last few months. Seeing Cap settle back into life, able be seen by others, to leave the confines of the house, to freely be able to live and to love, to interact with the world again- made him envious beyond belief. He’d been pondering the events of that faithful day, feeling sorry for himself, when a traitorous thought entered his mind.

‘How I wish that could have been me.’

The truth was, Thomas was stuck at Button House- he had been for nearly 200 years. And no matter how scared he was whatever it was that was waiting for him on the other side, and no matter how much he had come to care for the other ghosts over the last few decades (though you would be hard pressed to hear him admit that out loud), he wanted nothing more to be something more- to be either alive or dead. Not just some spectator in the lives of people living in a world where he had no particular place in anymore. It just wasn’t fair, that Captain, who had only been here for some 80-odd years, should be free of this house earlier than him or Kitty, Fanny, Humphrey and Robin.

He could not escape the sigh that escaped his lungs as he was pulled back into he present, where Pat was just explaining the riveting rules of some sport called Basket Ball. The sigh hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“I’m sorry mate, am I boring ya?” Pat asked in that quintessential Pat way- but still somehow managing to look slightly offended. Thomas almost felt bad for him, but gave him an elegant wave.

“It’s no matter. I just had a rather depressing thought.” He said. He could hear Robin bark a laugh as soon as he finished, his gaze snapping to the caveman to glare at him. “Don’t you always” he says. Thomas only rolls his eyes at this.

“Do you not think it unfair? That we should still be stuck here in this dreadful old house? While he is out living his life?” Words were tumbling out of his mouth now, as they had done countless times before- but this was different, this was years of pent-up anger and frustration, now mixed with a lethal dose of jealousy that had made him unable to filter any of his thoughts. “Has he truly forgotten all of us already? He just leaves and doesn’t look back! Has he not thought about the fact that any of us might want the same chance as he did?” He finally fall silent, chest heaving with the adrenaline of letting all his most private frustrations out. The others are gaping at him, none of them making a sound. They hadn’t seen Thomas lose his composure in an angry way for a long time. When it became apparent he’d ruined Pat’s talk about sports and the fun club activity was all but over by his sudden outburst, he scoffed and stood up from the small sofa.

“Just a thought, though.” He finished as he departs from the room, leaving the others behind in silence. The seed of doubt having been planted in their own minds.

* * *

When Theo and William next visited, the ghosts all acted strangely. They’d been strangely absent all day, where normally both ex-soldiers would be swarmed by them- excitedly telling them about anything and everything. Theo frowned a bit when there was no group welcoming them back at the entrance. William bumped his elbow with his own softly, giving him a consoling smile when the action caused the Captain to look at him.

“Let’s head inside Teddy.” He says, pushing him forward just a little. They hadn’t been back here for over a month, even though they normally tried to stop by at least once a week. They’d taken a trip to 1967 though, and had, ironically, lost track of the time.

They had just finished dinner, and were making their way from the kitchen towards the sitting room for a game of cards, when a sudden blur from beside him made William jump. It was Thomas- who had seemed to materialise out of nowhere. The man was startled, halting in his tracks- and Thomas used this as an opportunity to catch the man off-guard. He shot him an expectant smile.

“So, pray tell. Have you given any thought to our previous conversation? About you going back to a certain day in my past?” He says in a hushed tone, letting his eyes glide around the hallway to spot anyone who might be nearby. Havers pressed his lips together, seemingly deciding he probably wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this any longer. He supposed this was a good a time as any though.

“I mean. I’d love to Thomas… but-“
“You’re not doing it!” Thomas gasps, loudly this time.
“No! That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just that I don’t know what Alison thinks about th-“

“What Alison thinks about what?” Captain says, turning the corner- having been wondering what was taking his boyfriend so long. He shoots a look from William to Thomas, and back as he surveys the situation.

They are all silent for a few seconds, William looking at Thomas as if he expects him to explain, but the other stays blissfully quiet. So, William speaks up- uncomfortably.

“Thomas wants me to get his past self to the present, like I did for you.” He says, the words hanging in the air heavily as he does. The implication of them was a big one. Because what could he do?

Could he really deny a man a new life, especially when there was a perfectly safe way to get this man back into a new, normal, corporal life? But then… what about the other ghosts? Wouldn’t they want the same thing as well? And where would they all live? Who would take care of them until they were on their feet? Alison probably… but was it really fair to put that pressure on her? Lord knows him and Teddy didn’t have the capacity to take in anyone else- they were still in the middle of renovating their new home.

It was the Doctor’s Dilemma. If there is a way to cure a sick person, would you do it without hesitation? Even if doing that means that the repercussions are probably going to make life a lot harder for a lot of other people? Just thinking about it made William’s head hurt.

“Oh.” Was all Captain could manage, looking between the men again and fiddling with this shirt sleeves, as he normally did when he was in an uncomfortable situation. He cleared his throat.

“Well… I suppose it should be up to her, right? Do you have any sort of plan, Thomas? I assume you’ve thought about it well. You’d need to get a job, papers, buy food… modern clothes. I can tell you from experience it’s very disorientating and chaotic. And you shouldn’t rely on Alison for too long. You know they tend to struggle sometimes.” Captain said, giving him a stern look.

Thomas waved his hand, dismissing the Captain’s concerns. He’d thought about nothing else the last few weeks. He could get a job, easy! He’d be more than qualified as a teacher of poetry, maybe English or theatre. And while he’d get the necessary things together he could stay here and help Alison with some work around the house! It was a win-win for both of them. (Maybe little bit more for him than it would be for her.) So he settled for an answer.

“Of course I have! I am not an idiot.”
“Right… if you’re sure about this… let’s go ask her.” William replied. They both looked towards Cap, who was seemingly still on the fence about it. It’s not like the choice was up to him at the end of day. Who was he to forbid Thomas from seeking the same life he had been so graciously given? No, he no longer had any right to dictate anything that was going on in Button House- that was all up to Alison and Mike now.

“Very well.” Captain said finally, pausing for a second before wringing his hands and leading the way towards the main living room.

Alison and Mike were there, Mike scrolling on his laptop mindlessly and Alison watching some movie absentmindedly. There was an air of comfortable silence, one that Alison had been grateful for. Moments of silence had been ever so rare over the last few years.

Alison was nodding off, her eyes closing on their own accord, when a soft scrape of a throat startled her back into consciousness. She looked up to see Cap and William stand next to the sofa- a nervous looking Thomas standing beside them. She hadn’t expected that William and Cap would still be awake, as it was getting rather late, and neither of them were night owls. (Though she suspected William was much more of a night person than he let on. He never did seem like a person until he’d had a cup of tea in the morning.)

“Alison, I…er, Thomas, actually, has something to ask you.” The man in question began.

“Yes…” He said, looking from William to Alison hesitantly. He took a moment to take a calming breath, feeling the tension slide off him as he looked at Alison’s face. She always did manage to relax everyone slightly with her calm demeanour.
“As a matter of fact I do. I… I mean I- Some thoughts I was having…” He mumbled, still not really sure where to begin. What did you say when you wanted to breach a topic as sensitive as this? Where did he start to introduce everything  that had been plaguing his mind for the last few weeks?

“I want to be alive again.” He spat out, deciding it was better to just rip off the proverbial band-aid.

The room was silent for a few, agonizingly long seconds. 
“You want to be alive?”
“Yes! Like the Captain.”

Alison was silent for nearly a full thirty seconds, mouth opening and closing in a seeming attempt to find the right thing-anything to say.

“Thomas” She finally managed to say. “ I wouldn’t mind, of course not. But… I don’t know if we can afford to support you financially… And what about the others? Don’t you think once we start with you they might not want the same?”

“I would hardly be in your way Alison. I could get a job! I could do work around the house in the meanwhile. I will not overstay my welcome, I promise! I know I have not always been the best at boundaries, but I…-“ He cut himself off, feeling his emotions threatening to get the better of him.

“I cannot continue on like this Alison. I love it here, I do. But at the end of the day we are all still trapped here. We cannot leave, we cannot live. We cannot do anything but live vicariously through you and walk the same old dusty hallways for eternity. And maybe I would have been forced to accept that before, but now… If there is a way for all of us to enjoy our lives again… I need to try it.” He forces out, wanting her- needing her to understand the way he was feeling. “And I will never forgive myself if- when you are gone in 100 years, I look back and regret not at least giving it a shot. No pun intended.” He adds, finishing it with a hand pressed to his wound.

Alison is silent, her lips pressed together- expression unreadable. She understands. Of course she understands. And she knows, like everyone else that she realistically has no right to deny Thomas (nor any of the others) this opportunity. It’s not her life, it’s his. What she doesn’t know is how this will impact her life, and it’s scary. Her and Mike are already struggling to make ends meet, and even if Thomas did manage to get a job somewhere there was no guarantee he was going to take to modern life quickly. Lord knows it took Cap a while, and he’d had a few years with Havers at this point. But she loved these guys, they were her family. Why was she even debating this? If it’d make them happy of course they should go through with it. Even if it would be hard on them for a while. They would get through it. As a family.

She raises her head again from where it had been pointed towards the floor, and with a determined look on her face and lips pressed tightly against each other… she gives them all an affirmative nod.

Chapter Text

It was not an exceptional day at Higham House that day in October. The weather was, as it had been for the past three or so weeks, painfully average- with the exception of a surprise shower here and there. But the day so far had given no indication of any sort of gray skies. The October sun was doing its best to warm the red bricks of the old house, and its rays caught the recently polished windows beautifully as the two men strode in on their horses, squinting as the reflecting light catches their eyes.

A party was on its way that day at Higham House, Thomas Thorne, along with his cousin Francis Button, had arrived moments before, taking in the splendour of the main room that was already filled with people. There was an assortment of luxurious foods on the table, men and women in their finest dress, and the newest inventions and party tricks were going around. But Thomas paid mind to none of it, his eye fell on the young lady of the house almost immediately- Isabelle Higham. She was one of the most beautiful and graceful creatures he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on.

She was standing with her father, greeting guests with a bored yet hopeful expression gracing her face every time a new person would walk up to them. His cousin, Francis was right behind him, gliding through the doors into the foyer like he owned the place. Once the two men had met up, Thomas gushed to his cousin about Isabelle.

“Is she not the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen?” He said. When Francis didn’t reply, he continued.
“I must go talk to her.” He says as he steps forward. But he stops once he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around and expects to see Francis standing there, but instead behind him stood a man Thomas had never seen before.

Thomas shakes the hand off his shoulder, giving the man a quick check. He was tall, handsome. But his clothes were wrinkled, the material seemed cheap and the fashion style was comically mismatched. It was like the outfit was thrown together blindly. He didn’t even recognise the style of the breeches the man was wearing. Must be foreign or something. He didn’t expect the man’s voice to come out in a smooth, natively British accent.

“Mister Thomas Thorne! I have heard so much about you! Your poetry is magnificent, I hear” The man said, holding out his hand in greeting. Thomas, all doubts about the strange man forgotten as soon as a compliment left his lips, took the mans hand and shook it enthusiastically.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to praise myself… but yes. Pray, are you familiar with my work?” he watched as the man, who had been looking around while they had their conversation, finally landed his eyes off to the side, where Thomas could see his cousin walking up to Isabelle. Before the man had a chance to reply, Thomas realised he had not even said hello to the poor woman yet. He flashes the stranger a smile and interrupts him from where he was about to say something.

“Terrible sorry good sir, I’m afraid I will have to come back in a moment.” The man opens his mouth to say something, but Thomas turns around and hurries over towards his cousin, managing to catch him before they both catch the woman.

The stranger sighs, and watches on as Francis tells Thomas something that makes the poet frown, after which the two cousins leave the room together swiftly. William supposed that could have gone better. He retreats back into the hallway, where he notices Humphrey’s head on the stairs, humming to himself. He decides to pay the man no mind for now, lest people notice and start asking questions. But the look and quality of his clothes and manner of talking he already stood out like a sore thumb in the distinguished crowd- he couldn’t risk getting kicked out.

He takes this opportunity to take a step back and fetch something else. Thomas had asked him to bring along his poetry journal. Aside from the seven full books he had at home, this one was special to him.

“It contains a poem I wrote together with Isabelle. It is rather special to me.” He’d said, with a sincerity Thomas did not often display.

William slips outside, quickly spotting the black and white horse that he saw Thomas arriving on. He walked over, approaching the mare slowly while being careful to avoid being spotted through the windows. He finds the book quicker than he expected, his hands grazing it inside the saddle bag and quickly slipping it out and into his overcoat pocket. He wastes no time going back inside.

Just as he steps into the front door, he hears footsteps coming into the hallway, heels clicking softly on the wooden floors with a sense of suppressed urgency, and soon a figure comes into view, a very familiar head of bouncy brown curls and smart glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he looked around shiftily and then sat himself down on the stairs. It was Thomas’s cousin.

That wouldn’t be an odd thing in and of itself, a gentleman might something just need a few minutes alone to catch his breath, but then the man started taking out paper and ink- and Havers was reminded of the story that Thomas had told him before he left. He was currently writing the fake letters to Thomas and Isabelle! He briefly decided if he should stop the man, but stayed put in the end. He didn’t want to risk anything. Especially in this era he had to be very, very careful- because they were dealing with both Fanny’s and Alison’s ancestors. One wrong move and they would both cease to exist. Isabelle still had to fall in love with Francis to continue the Button lineage.

When Francis was done writing the letters, he smiled to himself. The look of it made Havers’ blood boil. Absolute scum. But he was helpless as the man walked back out towards the ballroom. William followed him, swiftly moving towards the room- and only barely avoiding Mary and another ghost that were stood right at the entrance.

He spied the two men across the room, Thomas just sitting down on a small stool with a letter in his hands- the look on his face one of absolute disbelief. William honestly couldn’t wait for this day to be over.

After the absolute monster of a lunch, that had enough food to feed a small village, where he had only managed to eat a piece of pheasant (he had never really gotten over the irrational need to ration his food), he left the table with the other guests carefully kept an eye on Thomas throughout the day. He even sat- with great patience- through the entirety of Hermione and Roger. He was beginning to wonder if Thomas had given him the right date, when the two men who had been stood at the back of the room moved further into it, pushing past Francis as they continued their conversation.

“What do you think of this Shelley woman I keep hearing about?” Asks one.

“Oh, she's unbearable.” Says the other without hesitation. “Ugly and untalented.” He adds on. William rolls his eyes. Bit excessive. Nonetheless he sees Francis’ eyes light up as he overhears their words, and seconds later he is scrambling towards Thomas.

Okay. This was his time to act. He would break up the fight before the duel was even proposed, he would take Thomas to a back room alone and they would disappear without a hitch. He’d be back home in 30 minutes. But of course, of course things don’t go the way he’d planned. Just as he sees Thomas stomping over to the man furiously, a woman steps in front of him. He shoots her a look and she returns it with a smile- seemingly unaware of the two men that are starting the confrontation on the other side of the room.

“Good afternoon. I don’t believe we have been introduced. My name is Jane.” She says, giving a small nod of her head in greeting. Havers shoots her a smile, his gaze flashing between her and the scene behind her, where Thomas is now talking to the soldier.

“Nice to meet you, Jane. I am William- but I’m afraid now is not-“ He was interrupted by Thomas, who had already started raising his voice while looking for a… glove?

“I demand satisfaction!” He yells when he’s unable to find one, staring the other man down, getting only a smirk in return.

“Very well.” He replies, and then they’re moving outside, the entire room moving to follow them.

“Oh how dreadful, men and their violence. Do you not consider it uncivilized?” But William wasn’t listening, his eyes still trained on the party that was now leaving the ballroom. Apparently not noticing this, Jane continued.
“What gentleman is unable to hold a normal conversation? Honestly-“
“Sorry, I’m afraid I must be off. Good day to you ma’am.” He says urgently, cutting her off. She stares after him as he brushes past her towards the door.

She gasps as she watches him leave with a rather unladylike huff. “Rudeness that cannot be counted on one’s fingers or measured in one’s heart.” She mutters to herself.

William doesn’t hear her as he walks out the door briskly, already spotting the growing crowd in the back of the garden. He hurries over, pushing through the small group of people towards the front, where he finds a priest talking to Francis and the man who challenged Thomas.

“Ten paces, then it’s a free shot.” The man says, to which the priest nods. Francis looks over at Thomas, who is trying to calm himself down a few feet away. He nods to the priest.

“I’ll tell him.”

William grinds his teeth in anger, knowing that as the Francis is walking towards his cousin he will not tell him ten paces. He needs to do something, fast. But what? His options became extremely limited as soon as the men left Higham House.

He pushes through the last row of people and walks onto the side line of the field. Thankfully nobody seems to notice him, their eyes all on the men currently standing with their backs together. William feels his heart racing, his mind still completely blank as to what he is supposed to do at this moment- and this only grows stronger as the men take the first step away from each other. Does he scream really loudly and disrupt the duel? They might not react and just continue on. And he can’t very well just make them both disappear into thin air in the middle of the field.

Then, he sees it. The thigh-high row of hedges just behind Thomas to the right side of the field. Thomas it walking toward them with steadfast determination. One step… two steps… three steps… four steps…

Step by step he is inching to the hedge, and while everyone else is frozen like statues, watching the duel with baited breath, William feels his legs start to move before he’s even thought his plan through. He bolts towards Thomas, who at this point is 8 or 9 paces in (he lost count somewhere along the way), and within a three seconds he is only a few feet away.

Almost as if in slow motion, William sees the other man at the other side of the field turn around and raise his pistol. He doesn’t hesitate and pushes himself to go even faster. Finally he reaches Thomas, but instead of stopping when he reaches the poet, he uses all the strength in him to push the other man away and over the hedge. He allows his own body to slam into Thomas, and they both go tumbling over the hedge, Thomas’s gun accidentally firing a round and shooting down a bird in the process.

They lay there together behind the hedge for a good few seconds, both staring up at the sky, getting their bearings before they both seemed to realise what had just happened. Thomas, in particular was not happy about being tackled by a stranger out of the blue when he was just about to defend the love of his life, and opened his mouth to loudly let his assailant know this- when a large hand was put over his mouth.

William held his fingers to his lips, his eyes wide as he glanced towards the field. People had already started walking their way- he needed to act quick.

“Listen Thomas.” He says hurriedly, “I don’t mean you any harm, and I’m going to need you to trust me right now. I need you to hold on to me tightly, okay?” He says, grabbing Thomas’s forearms tightly. Thomas just stares at him wide-eyed. William decides he can’t afford to stick around to find out if the other man had understood him, so he closed his eyes, and took them both back to 2023.

Thomas had had a strange day. Not that his almost 200 years as a ghost hadn’t been objectively strange, but the moment he’d got out of bed this morning he had been brimming with excitement. He’d gone downstairs, met William, Alison (and Robin, Julian and Kitty) there and they’d devised a plan- and then, William was off. They hadn’t discussed when he was to return, but Thomas wasn’t counting on a fast return- he knew pulling off a stunt like this couldn’t be easy.

What he didn’t expect however, was the big crash from the library not even five minutes later.  Thomas wasted no time and all but bolted towards the noise, finding William on top of… himself- hand still on his mouth as Past Thomas continued to struggle out of the man’s grasp (no doubt highly offended).

It took only a few seconds before William looked up, seeing Ghost Thomas in the door opening of the library. It took even less time for Past Thomas to follow his gaze, and once he did, Thomas felt a dizzying pull towards his past self. Then, he felt nothing for a few seconds- like he was nowhere and no one in particular. But then… Then he feels everything. He feels a hand pressed against his mouth, he feels the scratchy carpet beneath him pressing into his back. He feels his lungs expanding and deflating every time he takes a panicked breath. His past self was clearly distressed. In fact, he remembers this moment. Very vaguely- but it’s there.

William quickly seems to realise that it’s no longer necessary to restrain the man below him, and throws himself off. Thomas takes a deep breath of fresh air- the first one in over 200 years. And as he rolls onto his side, his breathing still uneven and a bit shallow he grins at William, who had sat up on his knees. He broke the eye-contact and instead let his eyes sweep over the books in the library in shock.

“I have a feeling life is about to change for you. Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr Thorne.” He says, holding out a hand to help the man up. He hoists Thomas to his feet, where he sways for a second as the dizziness gets the better of him. William briefly considers making a joke about that the man looks as pale as a ghost, but there are other things to tell the poet that are more… urgent. It seemed this trip hadn’t been entirely without its consequences. He grabs a heavy book off the shelf, it’s faded black leather standing out against the gold-pressed letters on the side: ‘The peculiar life and disappearance of Lord Thorne’.

He walks over to Thomas and wordlessly shows him the page. Thomas tentatively leans over to read the book.

‘Thomas Thorne, the world renowned poet, went missing on October 10^th, 1824. He had been bravely defending a woman’s honour when a strange man tackled him during the ensuing duel, throwing them both out of view of the witnesses. Neither Lord Thorne or the stranger were ever seen again. The mystery surrounding his disappearance has been one of the most famous unsolved mysteries of the 19^th century, and fans of the classical poet have been trying to solve it for over 150 years. Not only the mystery of Thorne’s disappearance, but also the mystery of the missing book of poetry that was later stolen, according Thorne’s cousin Francis. What happened to the missing poems? And who stole them? And most importantly: what did they contain? One thing we do know for sure, is how prolific the impact of his poetry has had on the world after his disappearance, his work has inspired countless people, including Stephen King, George R.R Martin and some even say prolific regency-era writer Mary Shelley. In this book, we will discuss the strange disappearance of the world most beloved writer…’

Thomas remains silent for a long while, unable to take his eyes off the page.
“What?” he finally manages to say.

William chuckles, albeit a bit nervously.

“It seems you got your dream. I don’t think there’s a more famous poet than you right now. People do love a good mystery- even more than they love an underdog story. And yours is both so you can imagine how that went.”

“But I don’t understand… how?”

William shrugs, he doesn’t really know either. Time works funny in that way.

“My best guess is that the mystery of your disappearance has made you so infamous, that it’s transformed into admiration for your poetry over the years. People have been so interested in the mystery that your poetry has been kind of swept along in the frenzy.”

Thomas feels a lump forming in his throat. People admire his poetry? He’s world-renowned? He’s spent so long imagining this moment, longing for these exact words to be used in the same sentence as his name, dreaming of a life where he’d made it doing what he loved. And here it is, black on white it front of his nose- and he doesn’t even know how to feel.

“Look.” William says, pointing to a specific sentence on the page.

“Not only the mystery of Thorne’s disappearance, but also the mystery of the missing book of poetry that was later stolen, according Thorne’s cousin Francis. That’s the book!” he says, pulling out the small notebook out of his jacket. He thinks for a moment, inspecting the small book- with its worn leather and decorated spine that had loose pages and miscellaneous letters sticking out of it. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading onto his face when an idea comes into his head.

“Thomas… I think you will not have to worry about money any time soon.”