#C: Chauncey Badminton

[obsidiancreates]

The Ghost Of You

Chauncey Badminton succeeds. But those with unfinished business...

Major Character Death, Blood, Shooting, Unhappy Ending, I repeat, UNHAPPY ENDING

Chauncey misses with the first shot, he thinks, so he goes to reload. It’s only after he’s gone through the long process that he looks up, and realizes that Stede Bonnet is lying dead on the dirt. His eyes stare up at the night sky, glassy and unseeing, and blood soaks into his thin white military-granted shirt.

“Look at that,” Chancey puffs past a drunken burp. “Got ‘im in one. Time to get rid of the bo-”

He trips on the way to the body, shooting himself in the eye. 

The two corpses lay there. Creature begin to sniff them.

On a little doc, hours later, Edward Teach rows away. He rows away alone, and broken, and to his knowledge… abandoned.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Kraken doesn’t pay attention to pointless rumors. Most of them are fuckin’ bullshit, anyway.

But his crew pay attention.

So while The Kraken, Blackbeard, whoever the fuck he’s trying to be now, goes around willfully ignorant to the current state of the high seas… his crew talk.

There’s rumors a ghost, out in these waters. A lost lover. The spectre waves from a rowboat, they all say.

Some say it comes aboard covered in blood and tears. Others say it climbs aboard looking for all the world a normal human, but a lost and dazed expression. Some say the ghost doesn’t climb aboard at all, but simply appears on deck when the rowboat comes close enough.

“It begs to see it’s lover,” the whispers claim. “But won’t say their name, nor it’s own. Lost, most likely, to the depths of sea that claimed their bodies.”

Well, probably claimed their bodies, anyway. But why else would a ghost be at sea but because they died in it? A ghost that died on land wouldn’t end up sailing around. That just doesn’t make sense.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I have to get there, I have to get there, I have to find him, please will you help me find him? His name… no, he’s changed it by now… please, I didn’t mean to leave him…

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Let them come over.”

Izzy looks at The Kraken, watches him gulp down another mouthful of whatever alcohol they have aboard right now. “I… respectfully disagree, Captain.”

“Oh, want another toe already? Fuckin’- if you’re that hungry mate-”

“Not that, sir. Just… the rumors, lately.”

“Rumors? Fuckin’ rumors, fuck those things. Well let them up, we’ll kill them, we’ll take their fuckin’ stuff because we’re pirates.” He takes another drink, and walks away.

Izzy stares out at the lone rowboat, a single figure standing in it, too difficult to make out fully on the foggy night. They have one arm raised, standing Too Still in their rocking little wooden boat.

“Fuck.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hand grips the side of the boat. The Kraken stands behind Fang and Ivan, ready for the reveal, for this poor sod to soil themself about Blackbeard before he has them run thro-

“Can you help me?”

… No.

“I’m looking for someone.”

No.

“I didn’t mean to… I was delayed-”

“I’ll fucking say so,” he hears Jim croak. “C-Captain-”

“I need to find him.”

The cold shock washes away, fire sparking in Ed’s empty chest. He shoves against the shellshocked Fang and Ivan, barely registers Izzy in the same state and Frenchie in tears. “Didn’t mean to leave me behind?”

But when Stede turns around… oh, the fire is doused. And Ed goes as numb and still as the rest.

Blank gray eyes stare at him. Blood stains the shirt, the pants, the shoes, all the same as the day… and it’s coming from the chest, from a fatal point, a hole ripped into his- his-

“Stede.” Ed’s voice cracks. His sword falls from his hand. 

The… The Ghost, The Ghost Of Stede Bonnet, it… smiles. Smiles with all the relief in the world. It steps closer, and Ed can’t seem to move, because this is a nightmare, t has to be all of this is a nightmare-

“Ed.” Stede breathes his name, but his chest doesn’t move. How can it? When he goes to cup Ed’s face, it’s like a freezing mist as laid itself against Ed’s cheek, and he shivers. The blank gray eyes stare out from the pale, nearly transparent face, and no no no he can’t be- Ed spent all this time thinking- hating, cursing, hurting out of vengeance, screaming and breaking and hating-

And the whole time he was- was-

“Ed.” Stede leans closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be late.”

“S-Stede, y-you-”

The Ghost Of A Kiss. The Ghost Of A Kiss shared on a beach, in the hazy light of a setting sun, full of hope and gentle apprehension.

It’s Ghost tastes like salt and iron, feels wet and should be warm but it’s frigid instead. It’s Ghost is shared in the dead of the night, on a barely-cared-for deck, full of sorrow and regret.

Stede pulls back. Ed can see through him. He can see that the hole goes straight through. In one side, out the other. Those eyes aren’t meant to be gray, they’re meant to be warm brown and full of life and shining and-and-

“I was going to kill you.” Ed’s voice is little more than a rasp. “If I saw you again.”

Stede doesn’t seem to hear the confession. The Ghost just strokes Ed’s cheek, smiling softly. “I found you again. I’m sorry, Ed. I’m sorry.”

“Stede, no-”

“Jeff.”

“... What?”

“Our new names. I thought yours could be Jeff. You said you liked it.”

The tears finally spill. “Fuckin’- fuckin’ perfect, mate. Let’s- we can do it now, we can run away, don’t- don’t leave-”

Stede leans in.

He’s gone before their lips meet.

Ed collapses into a sobbing heap.

Stede Bonnet’s Ghost is never seen again.