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Stede’s not quite sure where he is.
It looks like a bedroom, of sorts. There’s a nightstand, and a bureau, and a bedframe, but something is… off about it. It seems bigger than bedrooms are supposed to be, open and echoing, not cozy and quiet. There aren't really any walls either; everything hovers in a dark, gray void. Stede feels like he’s looking at the world through a filthy spyglass, but there’s no lens to wipe off, just his own eyes failing to find the familiar in the strange.
“Didn’t take you long to forget about me, Bonnet.”
Stede squints through the haze to see a figure walking toward him. He can tell by that grating voice that it’s Chauncey Badminton, but Stede can hardly make out his face. The world is growing blurrier, engulfed by a thick, billowing fog, and Stede’s nostrils are flooded with a biting, metallic scent.
Gun powder.
A frigid wind sweeps through the void. Stede ducks his head against it.
“Go away,” he spits, tightening his fists at his sides. “I don’t think about you anymore.”
“You don’t want to think about me,” Chauncey sneers. “You choose to forget me.”
“Go. Away.”
“You don’t want to look. You didn’t look then. And you won’t look now. Look at me, Bonnet .”
Some force more powerful than him raises his head, and he’s face to face with a black, empty eye socket, staring him down like the barrel of a gun. A cold fist seems to tighten around his body, locking him in place and forcing him to stare back.
“You didn’t even bury me,” Chauncey hisses, the wind gusting around them again. “You left me there to rot. You think I wouldn’t come back? You can’t run from me anymore.”
“What do you want?”
“Same thing I wanted that night. To kill you. To end your reign of terror.” He swiftly draws his gun from his belt. “It doesn’t matter how far you run. Where you hide. I’ll always find you. You’re a monster."
No . Not again. He survived this already. This was in the past. This can’t be happening again .
The world lurches, and suddenly Stede recognizes this space, distorted as it is. He’s in his room. Their room, in their inn.
Which means Ed should be here.
“Where’s Ed? What have you done to him?” he shouts at Chauncey.
“He’s ruined,” snarls the specter. “You ruined him. History’s greatest pirate. You ruined him. I told you, you defile beautiful things. And you didn't listen.”
If this is their room, then this is their nightstand, which means…
Stede forces himself to move, whips open the drawer and draws out his knife.
“Get out!" he screams, brandishing the weapon like the pirate he’s always wanted to be. "Get out and never bother us again!”
“Don’t you look brave,” Chauncey spits, lurching ever closer. He loads his pistol with a click that echoes through the emptiness. “But we both know the truth, don’t we? We know you’ll always run.”
Except Stede can’t run. His feet are rooted to the ground, like the claws of some horrible beast from hell are holding him in place to accept his fate. He screams as loud as he can – for Edward, for anyone – but no sound comes out, his voice has been snatched from his throat.
Chauncey pulls the trigger.
Time slows to a crawl. He sees the bullet inching toward him through the air. Damn it, he’s not ready to die. He doesn’t have time to die. He has an inn to finish building and a boyfriend to love and a life – he has a life – demanding to be lived.
There’s no one coming to save him this time. It’s only him and the ghost of all he’s done.
Except…
“Stede wake up!”
A voice, cutting through the smoke. Like a scream underwater. Calling him home.
Stede looks around wildly, but there’s only Chauncey, laughing at him, watching him flounder. But Ed. He heard him. He’s here, somewhere, and something tells him that if he can slash this man’s throat, he’ll see him again.
Time speeds up again, and suddenly Stede’s dodging the bullet and stumbling toward Chauncey. He swings the dagger every which way, but no matter how fast he runs, the room just goes on and on, Chauncey is always just out of reach.
“I’ve killed you once, I’ll kill you again,” he screams soundlessly.
“Stede, holy shit!”
The ghost laughs and laughs, a biting, piercing sound that makes Stede’s blood boil. He’ll kill him. He’ll kill him and get his Ed back and he won’t have to think about that night ever again.
“Stede wake up!!!”
“See you next time, Bonnet,” Chauncey leers.
“STEDE! PLEASE!”
Stede’s eyes fly open.
He falls back into his body with a gasp, reaching out to catch himself against the wall. The wall. There are walls again. His dagger is still clutched in his hand, and he whirls around in a panic, searching for Chauncy. His brain finally catches up with his body when sees Ed at the edge of their bed, hands raised like a surrender. Stede realizes with a chill of horror that his dagger is pointed right at his chest.
“Hey hey hey, it’s me,” Ed pants, inching off the bed. “It’s me, Stede. Just me. You were dreaming.”
“You’re a monster.”
“You’re safe. You were dreaming or sleepwalking or something.” Ed reaches out, padding cautiously across the room. “Just put the knife down, okay?”
“You defile beautiful things.”
“Oh my god.” The dagger slips from his fingers, clattering to the floor with a sharp clang that rings in Stede’s ears. “Oh my god Ed...”
“You ruined him.”
“... I’m so sorry .” The words come out twisted and pained, like the knife’s gone through his own chest, and he falls back against the door with a wretched sob.
There’s arms around him in a heartbeat, guiding him swiftly back into the bed. Blankets are drawn up over his trembling body, a hand is guiding his head against a strong, solid chest. He can’t get enough air into his lungs. The world still feels blurry and uncertain, like he’s still got one foot in that smoky dream world. He keeps his head buried in the crook of Ed’s neck as he cries, like if he can make himself small enough he can disappear before Chauncey finds him again.
“It’s alright, love,” Ed hushes. “It’s all okay. It was just a dream, yeah? It’s not real.”
But it was real once, wasn’t it. So terrifyingly real. The bullet, the empty eye, the scream…just the beginning of all the pain he’s caused them both. The tears only come faster.
He’s not sure how long they stay like that, Ed whispering in his ear, Stede weeping bitterly, clinging on for dear life. Eventually he dares to raise his head and look about their room. Now this is familiar. Same second-hand furniture. Same cheap paintings hung crooked on the walls. Same blue robes on the door hook. No Chauncey to be found. Just him and his Edward and the little life they’re building. His next breath comes a little easier.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Ed asks carefully.
Stede squeezes his eyes shut against another wave of tears. Because where the hell does he start? He’s hardly thought about that night since he went back to sea. How the hell is he supposed to talk about it, with the person his actions have hurt the most?
“You don’t have to,” Ed amends quickly. “But you can. It might help.”
“I want to,” Stede whimpers. “It’s just…” The reason I broke your heart. The reason our friends have suffered. The reason you’re better off without me. “...a lot.”
But Ed just waits, rubs soothing circles over Stede’s back, the motion grounding him back in this world. Stede draws a shaky breath. Maybe, if anyone can understand what it’s like to be haunted, it’s Ed.
“There are things I haven’t told you,” Stede begins feebly. “About the time we were apart.”
Ed’s hand stills at once, and the knife in Stede’s gut twists again. This is going to hurt him, there’s no avoiding it. But if he keeps it buried any longer that ghost is never going to let him rest.
“The night I was going to meet you at the dock…Chauncey Badminton was there. He must have snuck in somehow. He woke me. Led me into the woods. Said things.”
“What kind of things?”
The words stick in Stede’s throat, emerging as a choked sob. Ed’s grip on him tightens. “Breathe love,” he whispers. “Take your time.”
He forces himself to take another few deep breaths. Chauncey’s gone now, he reminds himself. It’s only Ed he has to answer to, and Ed loves him. He can do this.
“He said that I ruined you, that I ruin beautiful things, that I’m a monster. He was gonna shoot me, and then I don’t know what happened, he fell or something and the gun went off and it…” Blood. Bone. Smoke. Screams. You defile beautiful things. “...it went straight through his eye. And then I just ran and ran…all the way back to Mary…so I wouldn’t hurt anyone anymore…and…” He swallows thickly, willing the tears to hold off a little longer. If he can’t get to the end of this story now he’s not sure he’ll ever have the strength to say it all again. “And then just now, I dreamt he was here, in this room, saying all the same things he did that night, and it was so so real…” So real he’d drawn his knife, so real he’d slashed at the air in his sleep, so real he could have hurt the love of his life all over again. “...fuck is was so real.”
Ed lets go of a long, shaky breath. Stede glances up, and even in the low light, he can see tears shining in Ed’s own eyes.
“I don’t feel that way anymore Ed,” he reassures a little frantically. “I’m not afraid anymore. I love you, I’m never leaving again. It’s silly. Stupid even, it was stupid then and it’s stupid now. I’ve hardly even thought about it since I’ve been back with you, I don’t want to think about it ever again, I don’t know why it came back now…”
“Hey, hey, none of that.” Ed quickly wipes his face with the back of his hand. “I know you’re not leaving. I know all that. Just…” Ed’s chest hitches beneath him. “Fuck, Stede, why didn’t you tell me?”
“There hasn’t been time! ” Stede can’t help the way his voice rises. “I feel like I haven't stopped moving since then. I found the crew and we were at Jackie’s and then with Zheng and then you were dead and then you weren’t . And then there was Ned and Ricky and Izzy and then this place and…” Hot tears finally spill over onto his cheeks. “...and I’m just so tired. ”
He shatters all over again. His first instinct is to roll over and hide his face in shame. It feels so childish, to be falling to pieces now over something that happened months ago, after all they’ve been through lately. But Ed cradles him impossibly close, somehow still content to hold him after all he’s just admitted. Stede lets himself be held. The weeks of grief and exhaustion are pouring out of him, and he worries if he lets go of Ed now he might just drown in the waves.
“Oh my love,” Ed whispers. His fingers glide gently over Stede’s hair. “It’s alright now.”
“I’m so sorry Ed,” Stede whimpers. “I’m so sorry I keep hurting you.”
“You’re not hurting me, love.”
“But you’re crying.”
“Yeah, because that fucker was gonna kill you!” Stede raises his head, and Ed instantly cups his face in his hands, so tender Stede’s heart could burst. “I could have lost you forever. Fuck I’m just so happy he didn’t kill you. And I’m glad you told me now.”
Stede can’t stop his bottom lip from quivering. “Yeah?”
“Fuck, yes. I'm so glad.” Ed presses the softest kiss into Stede’s forehead. "Makes a lot of things make sense."
He eases Stede slowly onto the pillow, then rolls over on his side to face him properly. Stede soaks up the vision before him. Long silver curls cascade across Ed's broad shoulders. His hawk tattoo takes flight just below his sweeping collarbone. Those deep brown eyes have seen into his soul and that mouth says I love you so many times a day he loses track. All the pieces of his Edward. Maybe if he can memorize him in this world, he can carry him with him to the dream world to help him fight those fucking ghosts.
“You know he was a fucking liar, right?” Ed asks as Stede wipes his eyes on his sleeve. “You didn’t ruin me, Stede. You saved me. You’ve been saving me over and over again since I met you. From pirates and soldiers and-fuck, from myself. And spiders. You save me from those hairy little fuckers like seven times a day, you’re the knight in shining armor I’ve been waiting for.”
Stede huffs a watery laugh at that, and Ed smiles back so brightly Stede thinks he puts the full moon to shame.
“I’m sorry,” he sniffs. “I don’t know why it all came back like that. I’m just tired.”
“You've had a rough go of it, haven’t you, mate?”
Stede opens his mouth to object, to maintain that it’s nothing compared to what Ed has endured because of him, but he remembers all that transpired in the last several weeks. If it had happened to anyone else he would say it was too much for one person to carry. “Guess I have.”
“Tell you what,” Ed says, tucking a stray strand of Stede’s hair behind his ear. “How about we take tomorrow off?”
“What?” Stede sits up on an elbow, a bolt of anxiety striking his chest. “But we’ve got to finish patching up the last holes in the floor and see the woman about the flowers for the garden and we were going to go down to the market…”
“...and all of that can wait a day,” Ed chuckles, guiding him back down onto the bed. “I want you to sleep until you can’t sleep anymore. And I’ll have breakfast ready for you when you wake up. Then we can go for a walk, start those new books we picked up, anything you like. And maybe, if you’re ready, we can tell each other all the things we’ve been too busy to talk about. And I promise I’m gonna love you just as much as I did before. Maybe even more.” He runs a thumb through the tear tracks on Stede’s cheek, smiling tenderly. “We don’t have to run anymore, love. We can take our time with things.”
What on earth did Stede Bonnet ever do to deserve such gentleness from history’s greatest pirate?
“That sounds perfect.”
Ed leans in and kisses Stede’s lips long and deep, and for the first time since he’s woken up Stede feels absolutely certain that he is real, that no ghosts can hurt him so long as Ed is here.
“Turn over, let me hold you,” Ed instructs. Stede rolls on his other side, and Ed snuggles up to him at once, draping his arm over his middle and nuzzling his face into his hair. Stede smiles sleepily, lifts Ed’s hand to his lips and presses a kiss to his knuckles.
“Can I tell you something else I’ve never told you?” he asks.
“‘Course.”
“No one’s ever held me the way you do.”
Ed sighs a little sadly, planting a kiss on Stede’s shoulder. “That is a crime far worse than piracy.” He moves his hand to rest over Stede’s heart. “Works out nice for me though. Because I’ve never gotten to hold anyone the way I hold you.”
Stede laughs quietly, curling deeper into Ed’s embrace. The terror of the dream is finally receding, leaving him exhausted down to his bones. He finally lets his eyes slip shut as Ed continues to pepper soft kisses across his shoulders, up his neck, and into his hair. “Rest, baby,” his lover purrs in his ear. “I’ve got you.”
It won’t be the last time that the past comes back to haunt Stede. There will be many more dreams, more tears, more hard conversations that end with kisses and I forgive yous.
Tonight though, when sleep comes at last, the ghosts of Stede’s past are far away. Safe in Edward’s arms, for the rest of the night, his dreams are full of color.