Chapter Text
As he stalked down the familiar white halls of the Orphanage, ignoring the indistinct screams as he went, he made sure not to let his guard down. Too often dreams of his current waking life blended into old nightmares suddenly and without any warning. Lately though, he has been treated to his new tormentor instead. It's a pathetically welcome change of pace.
On those more lucky nights he’s greeted by her retreating form, never aware of him until it's already too late. From there he turns a corner and is standing above the casket with her unresponsive inside. At first he found himself unable to do anything but relive the original event in stilted pieces. He would close the lid and throw shovels of dirt over her, convincing himself he could just hear her panic at the end. After those dreams he would wake up frustrated and unfulfilled. How could he not? He knew his actions wouldn’t stick. Still though, he wouldn’t ever forget the panic in her eyes when she’d been caught that first time. How simple things had seemed then.
Eventually, after the dream became a more persistent recurrence even than his nightmares of old, he found a way to start twisting the events. Just a little at first. Instead of jumping straight to the burial he managed to relive actually catching her unaware. From there he added carrying her to her coffin in his arms himself. The weight of her almost felt real as he laid his love gently into her casket. He’d fondly rest her hands comfortably over each other on her chest. Yet another detail he’d only added in these dreams.
It was weeks into his obsession and only after her real self reappeared in London that he found a new twist to add. That night after laying her down into her bed of velvet, on an impulse he got down into the box with her, dream logic allowing them to fit together although it was still a close embrace. He grinned, giddy with success when the lid closed over them and he could hear dirt being piled over their shared casket. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and waited. Restriction of movement had been a torture to him for so much of his early life, and a favorite horror to inflict on others later. Now though it was such a comfort. It was a luxury even, to have nothing but the soft lining of the casket and the light breath of his love to soothe his afflicted heart. Eventually, perhaps a long time but still far too soon, she awoke with a sudden gasp. Her fingers dug into his clothes before hesitantly reaching up to his mask for confirmation. It was followed with a sudden intake of breath, a gasp or the start of a scream he didn’t get to find out as he was stolen from sleep.
He brushed his hair away from his face and groaned. He needed to see her in the waking world again. The comfort the dreams brought him faded quickly upon waking, leaving him more starved than ever. The deprivation of the waking world brings all the shortcomings of his nightly fantasies to light. He needed her. A memory or a facsimile would never do. He tried not to think about the stacks of written evidence they’d compiled proving the severity of that truth.
He could hardly believe it. Even hours later he still felt his heart flutter in his chest just remembering her simple response. The blush on her face was no trick of his love sick mind and while he had to admit he hasn’t been at his best by far these months, he was not so far gone as to not see an obvious trap laid for him. After her recent counter move against Mr Fires, and by extension himself, of unionizing the dockworkers she had earned a significant amount of goodwill from them. These were streets and docks which had just a week prior been nearly as safe for him as the Orphanage itself, full of Londoners employed by Mr Fires fully aware of their place in their hierarchy. Today, however, there had been no shortage of unfriendly eyes on him, not afraid of catching his back no less.
She had ample support to overpower him and steal back her friend. When he realized the extent of her manpower he couldn’t help but find himself intoxicated by her show of force at least in equal measure to his frustration at the inevitable rejection the day had in store for him.
He wouldn’t give up knowing the odds were against him, why start now after all? He did what he had planned, got down on one knee, proposed, appealed, and threatened. He saw her eyes glance over to an unassuming dockworker, waiting for a signal no doubt. Baasha seemed to make up her mind in that moment.
“Yes, I’ll marry you.”
His breath caught in his throat. He searched her face for the beginning of a cruel smile but instead saw a new expression from her. She glanced at the few workers at the docks who were obviously her backup and blushed before looking back at him. Her usual professionalism was slightly overridden by her apparent shyness but she still accepted. She accepted his proposal!
He had Jasper and Frank lock Hephaesta up to keep her from throwing herself into the water and watched in delight as his fiancée walked up to him. She stopped close enough that she had to crane her head to look him in the eye and allowed him to slip his ring onto her finger. He had chosen a venom-ruby and a simple band. In his opinion it suited them both.
Now, with excitement from the day still simmering and as many plans for their upcoming wedding made as possible, he had to try to force himself to get some sleep. It was already creeping into the early morning hours and he knew he had to try to get a few hours in to properly catch up with his work around the Orphanage in the coming day.
It didn’t come easily but eventually he was strolling through the halls of the Orphanage yet again. Everything seemed as it ever did until he came upon a group of three orderlies all peeking around a corner and whispering. He let them disperse upon noticing him and strolled past to see for himself what they were focused on.
There she was, in the same clothes she had been wearing at the docks in place of her stolen orderly disguise. She looked a bit surprised at first when she caught sight of him but then greeted him with a nervous smile. She started walking towards him and then looked in her element for the first time in his dreams.
He hesitated. This departure from the norm was so far off script he wasn’t sure what exactly to say.
Thankfully for him she looked up at him with a sweet expression that her real counterpart has never directed at him and led the exchange, “You wanted my thoughts on some of the wedding preparations, right?”
“Yes, of course,” he replied without thinking and offered her his arm to lead her to his office.
She took it without hesitation and he felt giddy at her acceptance of an open display of affection. He imagined he could feel her warmth through both of their coats and wondered if she’d be so willing to be seen with him in reality. She had accepted his proposal after all, perhaps he had somewhat misjudged her motives. Maybe she was more like him than he had dared hope.
With pleasant thoughts about potential events where they would attend as a couple to be feared, respected, and envied in mind, he found himself in his office once more. His love waiting expectantly in the chair opposite him. He couldn’t help but take in the moment, here was everything he had been grasping so desperately at, the problems she had caused seemed like such a distant afterthought. She chose him , stealing the hybrid was a play for power all along. Now that she’d have her own deal with Mr Fires soon settled they could begin their lives together. Maybe she would work with him in the orphanage. He could surely offer her the best testing ground for her advancements in science, far better than the university lab she was managing with.
“Edward, the plans you wanted to go over?” she asked him with a fondly amused look at his love-struck silence.
“Right,” he cleared some of the papers on his desk to make more space for some of the plans he had been working on.
He laid them out quickly and tried to organize his thoughts. She waited for him to continue, a touch more demure than he had ever seen her act, let alone towards him. For a moment he hesitated. It wasn’t really her of course, he was still aware this was only a figment of his love sick mind.
He pushed the plans back over to the side to clear his desk and her smile got a bit more uneasy. That was a little more true to life. Even when accepting his proposal she was never saccharine to him, always something dark in her eyes that nobody else seemed to see but him.
“I was actually wondering if we could talk about our plans for after the wedding,” he told her on an impulse and watched her clear relief.
“That makes sense, we haven't really talked about plans for the future,” she said and he couldn’t help but notice her fidget with her engagement ring.
“Once you’ve been settled, how long do you think you’ll need before you can begin your work here?” he asked her eagerly.
She stopped fidgeting with the ring and looked caught off guard, “What do you mean?”
“I suppose I’m getting ahead of myself,” he can hardly muster the energy to feel embarrassed about his own eagerness and continued, “There’s no need for you to continue your work at the university when you’ll have access to the best equipment and plenty of subjects right here.”
“I-” her smile was slipping slightly, “I didn’t think Mr Fires would want me meddling in its-”
“Once your deal has been struck all you have to do is fulfill your end of the bargain and your competence will be unquestionable,” he assured her suddenly prepared to assuage any worries clouding her perception of their impending union.
She was back to worrying with the ring, “So, you’d want me working here with you then?”
He could help but chuckle at that, “Just think of it, this is what you came to London for after all, I’ve read the research you’ve published so far and with my support and resources how much farther you can take all of it!”
He beamed at her. Surely, she would be delighted. It may not have been her intention to force him to fall in love with her but with what he’s proposing it should be everything she’s been working towards with the roadblocks removed. She’d be happy and fulfilled in their marriage and he’s sure that in time she’d come to love her loyal husband. In the meantime being able to keep her close would be enough to manage his moon-milk affliction.
Her smile was gone and suddenly she looked true to life, “So we’d have a more professional relationship in that case?”
He felt himself freeze. How could she have misinterpreted his words that badly? Perhaps this was a nightmare then.
“No, of course not!” He tried to refrain from raising his voice and continued, “I already told you my heart is yours and your heart shall be mine.”
“I’ll be your partner in all things,” he could feel himself blush at his own words and was ever thankful for his mask, “After everything I’ve done for you I don’t know how you could possibly think I’d settle for anything less from you.”
Baasha looked flustered by his declaration but continued, “And after the moon-milk wears off and one day you wake up and realize you’re married to an enemy?”
“You won’t be my enemy, you’ll still be my beloved wife, same as the day before,” he told her simply and couldn’t help but think this nightmare was unusually tame, albeit frustrating.
Baasha huffed as if she had any right to be frustrated with him, “I mean, you’re not in your right mind right now, when you finally are, won’t you feel taken advantage of?”
He laughed bitterly at that. How could he not? She watched him warily, clearly not sharing his amusement.
“You’ve inflicted this love on me, driven me mad with your absence, and now you're worried that I’ll regret the very thing I’ve been risking everything I’ve built over the course of my time at the orphanage?” he lets his tone deepen, “My sweet, what you should have been worrying about is what I’d have done if you’d continued to reject me.”
She looked less frightened at his admission than he was intending and more thoughtful.
“You aren’t having second thoughts are you?” he asked while clenching his hands under the desk.
“What? No!” she blurted out.
He felt himself settle slightly at her knee jerk reaction.
“I just,” she began but paused and looked conflicted, “I was worried about the opposite, that in the future you’d realize you made a mistake.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. At least his real love didn’t seem concerned about such nonsense.
“Well nothing I can say now will convince you since I’m not in my right mind, isn’t that how you see it?” he asked.
She looked at him sadly, “I suppose that’s correct.”
“That was true before you accepted my proposal,” he watched her look down uncomfortably as he continued, “You already decided to go through with it and you said yourself you aren’t having second thoughts.”
She said nothing in defense.
He grinned at her, “You think it's worth the risk.”
Her eyes back on him in confusion once more, “The risk?”
“That I’ll decide to get revenge, wasting all of my effort and losing you as a researcher I might add,” he tells her plainly.
She puts a hand up to her head to pinch the bridge of her nose and sighs deeply before responding, “I’m really not as afraid of you as you seem to think.”
He frowned at that.
“I don’t want to have forced you to marry me,” Baasha tells him in what he thinks is honesty.
He feels his heart flutter at her admission. As if she couldn’t be more perfect in his eyes, his own sweet tormentor.
“But you’ll do it,” he tells her confidently.
She glares at him in annoyance but doesn’t reject his assertion.
“How am I sure?” he asked her rhetorically.
She stared at him with those cold dark eyes she seemed to reserve for him, a silent threat.
“Its because I see what you’re hiding from everyone else,” then there was a spark worry in her expression as he spoke, “You want people to see you and respect you but you know as well as I do that in this world what it really comes down to is fear.”
“You’re either the nightmare or the one afraid of it, and you my sweet, are far less adverse to causing fear and pain than you’ve let everyone else believe.”
He let his words sink in. She stood up with a blank expression.
“I should go,” she told him.
He leapt up after her and grabbed her hand. She whipped her head back around to shoot him a furious look with those dark eyes that haunted him so.
“You’re intoxicating,” he began and let her pull her hand away now that her attention was once again back on him, “You’re already so close to everything you’ve wanted, I can’t wait to see you when you finally take it.”
It was a simple truth to him. She already captivated him so completely that it almost frightened him to think of how much power she might have over him when she decided to stop holding herself back.
Her dream self looked down as if she was ashamed and once again started walking away, this time with less urgency.
“Goodnight Edward,” she hesitated before closing the door completely behind her and added, “I’ll be seeing you soon.”
He awoke in his bed still frustratingly alone but with the plans for the wedding and his regular work to catch up on he forced the feelings down as best as he could to focus. After all, his torment was finite now. He had always been better at enduring all manner of horrors when he knew how much longer they’d last. Dates and times overheard or glimpsed off of clipboards. Now that he was in control, it should be that much easier.
She stepped back through her mirror, a bit shakier than usual and ran a hand through her hair surprised at the slight catch of a ring she wasn’t yet accustomed to. She caught her own reflection out of the corner of her eye. Despite everything that had happened to her in the Neith she was still the same frail woman she knew herself to be and she scowled at herself. When she let her face twist she could almost see the monster Edward believed her to be.