happy family

John Hathorne

John Hathorne, Jr.

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this is part of book of revelation!

John Hathorne shook with excitement, a thick letter in his hands. Nearly a year of applying, petitioning, begging had finally paid off. John's fingers trembled over the seal. Someone had opened their door for him once, when he thought he'd lost everything. Now it was John's turn to repay his enormous debt. He could almost hear the echo of laughter on that old kitchen table, from a place that hadn't started as home but ended up becoming one.

John had already read the first envelope, sealing his acceptance into the foster program in all its official glory. Now his hands hovered over the thicker packet, the one that truly mattered. The boy's name sat at the top of the first page in sharp, formal letters. Edward Teach. The kid who was all over the news recently for being part of a gang of "hero thieves".

A brief summary followed. A birthdate, a note about the boy's late parents, and the current incarceration of his legal guardian. Then came the school record. Strong grades, marred by spotty attendance. One more page, more than half filled with redactions, told of an ongoing blackmail case that was frustratingly thin on details.

The whole file was like that. It said almost nothing about Edward's early life. No reports, no family assessments, no home evaluations. Maybe documents tended to get lost in the slums? John wouldn't know. He hadn't grown up there.

John had almost closed the folder before he saw the last detail. "Paranoid delusions." It sat there in the middle of a sparse page, unaccompanied by any notes about treatment, diagnosis, or medical history. Just the phrase, scrawled in a hasty pen.

John felt something twist in his chest. He closed the folder slowly. This wasn't going to be easy. But if John's own fosters had dismissed him all those years ago with a phrase like that, he wouldn't be here now. If they wanted to throw John in the deep end, so be it.

--

John already had an image in his mind of the boy who would appear at his doorstep. A cocky little vagabond with no respect for anyone. The kind of boy who lied like he breathed and stole anything that caught his eye. Wild, unpredictable, covered in sharp edges and storm clouds. A problem child to be reined in.

The boy that arrived in reality was a mousy little thing, just a bit older than John's own son. As soon as the door opened, Edward Teach rushed inside and hid behind John, clutching a stuffed doll that looked like it had been stitched and restitched a dozen times. John stood frozen for a second. This wasn't the boy he had imagined.

John kept one hand on the door as Edward pressed into his side. From the porch, Esther Alta; the Cleric serving as Edward's caseworker, offered John a professional nod. "Mr. Hathorne," she said, her tone shockingly clipped. "He's yours now."

John blinked, caught a little off guard by the bluntness.

Esther glanced past him for a moment, toward the shape of the boy huddled out of view. "He doesn't always talk. When he does, it's guarded. And sometimes not... entirely grounded." The Cleric took a breath, then smoothed out the edges of her tone. "You'll have questions. Don't expect answers right away."

John nodded. "I understand."

"Just... be patient," Esther added. "He's been in survival mode for a long time."

And before John could say anything else, she stepped back. The door latch clicked.

Edward tensed up behind him. Then, in a voice so small John barely caught it: "...Is she gone?"

John turned slightly. "Yeah. She's gone."

The boy drew in a shaky breath. "Hi. What's your name?" Edward suddenly turned on a dime, with a fake smile and rehearsed voice that John could hear cracking beneath the surface.

John gave a small nod, then crouched down to meet Edward's eyes. "Hey, hold on, buddy. What happened back there?"

Edward didn't answer right away, his mask of calm crumbling just as soon as it arrived. After a moment, as if he'd just processed the second layer of John's question, the boy suddenly clung to John harder than before. The doll in Edward's hands squished between them, his fists bunching into John's cape with more strength than a child that small should have had. Now that John was looking at it more closely, that doll looked just like Esther, sharing her long black hair and pristine white robes.

"Don't trust that lady, she's d-dangerous...!" Edward's voice broke. "She - she kept me locked up in her house for days..." The boy's grip tightened further. "I didn't do anything wrong. I wasn't bad. But she said I couldn't leave, and I begged her; I begged her to let me go - b-but she just kept saying it wasn't time yet. I thought I was never getting out..."

John's breath hitched. When the man heard of paranoid delusions, he expected monsters under the bed. Things wholly unreal, that could be easily dispelled with enough persistence. Those expectations shattered when John listened to Edward's tale. A horrifying kidnapping, the way Edward told it, in which the woman John had spoken to seconds earlier switched from monstrous to motherly so quickly it made the boy's head spin. No matter how this child pleaded, no sane adult would let him go and expect him to tough out the next four months alone. Edward's admission that his "captor" treated him kindly after "kidnapping" him only confirmed in John's eyes that this was one of those delusions he had been prepared for.

And yet... did no one bother to tell the boy that being freed didn't mean he would be just cast into the winds? The complexities of the law didn't matter to a child when he truly was snatched away from his home by a stranger in the dead of night. No matter how John responded to this tale, Edward's eyes and ears would speak louder, the root of reality embedding those delusions in his mind. The creatures under Edward's bed were real, the only dispute was of their monstrous nature.

For now, the absence of those creatures seemed to bring Edward back to the real world. John nodded slowly, absorbing every word without corrections or reassurances that were bound to feel fake. He rested a steady hand on the boy's back and let Edward lean closer to his side. They stayed there for a long time, until both of them stopped shaking.

The door at the end of the hall creaked open so fast it made both their heads spin. A blur of motion came bounding into the room. "Whoa! Who's this?" John's son grinned, eyes wide, practically vibrating with energy. "Is this the kid? Hi! What's your name! I'm John Jr. -"

Edward shivered. The tension in his shoulders flared up all over again.

John quickly raised a hand. "Hey, back up a little, champ. Don't startle the new kid."

"Oh! Sorry!" John Jr. skidded to a stop, rocking on his heels and buzzing with energy.

A moment's pause. Edward finally stepped away from John and cautiously approached the man's son. "...Can I call you J.J.?"

J.J.'s whole face lit up. "Heck yeah!"

Evidently, John didn't have much to worry about. These two kids couldn't have been more different. J.J. talked a mile a minute with his boundless energy, while Edward clung to his doll and barely said a word. Somehow, the two hit it off within minutes. When J.J. plopped down on the couch, Edward sat beside his new housemate, the tiniest smile blooming on his face.

"So," J.J. grinned. "What do you like? Games? Stories? I've got a slingshot if you're into target stuff, but Dad says I'm not allowed to shoot indoors anymore 'cause of the window thing."

A slight flicker of recognition formed on Edward's face. John couldn't tell what had triggered it, and J.J. didn't seem to notice it at all.

"Oh, I forgot! What's your name?" J.J. crossed his legs, practically vibrating with anticipation.

Edward blinked slowly, shoulders tight. Then, cautiously... "My name's Eddie."

J.J. stopped mid-fidget. "Eddie...?" J.J.'s head tilted, then his eyes went wide. "Wait. You're Edward Teach!?"

Eddie nearly jumped.

"I mean - that's amazing!" J.J. blurted. "You're famous! Like, cool-famous! You know that trial was all over the papers, right? You helped people - like a hero!"

Eddie stared at the floor, but his breathing slowed, just a little. A quiver almost like a chuckle came out.

"Let me show you around!" J.J. bounced to his feet, already halfway down the hall before Eddie could rise from the couch. "C'mon, you gotta see the attic. And the weird squeaky floorboard upstairs. And our indoor garden - well, it's not my garden, it's Dad's, but I help sometimes." J.J. flashed John a knowing look, and John suppressed the urge to smirk.

Eddie followed, the doll hanging loosely in his hand, letting J.J. lead him through the halls.

"Oooh, and the farm! It's not too far from here, Dad'll probably show you soon. We've got chickens, pigs, this one evil goat..." J.J. kept going, narrating every corner, stain, and creaky hinge like part of some grand adventure story. "But... I bet you've got cooler stories than me." There was a flicker in J.J.'s eyes.

A flicker Eddie met. "Once when I was about nine, I broke into this guy's study to steal information on one of his clients." Eddie said, deadpan. "One of my first big jobs. Real serious stuff. I came back with nothing but a stack of old letters and a recipe for Grandma's Potato Soup."

"Oh my gods." J.J. snorted so hard he nearly choked. "Noooo. That must have been mortifying!"

"Neither of us realized it until we were halfway across town." Eddie's grin widened with every word. "Tommy went through the pile and he was shaking, trying so hard not to laugh." Eddie met J.J.'s cackling with a little laugh of his own. "I mean, Tommy still laughs about it, but we remembered that recipe as soon as the weather got cold. We started making it every winter after that."

J.J.'s grin stretched across his face. "Seems like you wound up with the last laugh."

And just like that, stories of thieving mishaps and sneaky successes flowed. The time Eddie got stuck in a bakery chimney. The time Tommy disguised himself as an old man for a pickpocket job and got caught because he covered up his limp out of habit. The first heist they'd pulled off together.

John listened from just out of sight, leaning against the doorframe of his study. He told himself he'd give the kids space, let Eddie settle in. But something about the way Eddie spoke of break-ins and scams the way J.J. would talk about homework and gardening made John's jaw tighten. He took a deep breath and stayed quiet.

Eddie noticed. The minute John and Eddie locked eyes, the boy's words began to thin out. His smile vanished on the spot, leaving J.J. confused and Eddie shivering until the boys disappeared down the hall. A door creaked open, leading straight to J.J.'s room, then shut behind them with a soft click. John could still hear the faint thump of just one pair of footsteps, the rustle of fabric, maybe a drawer or closet being opened. But the giggles and chatter that had filled the rest of the house were gone. It was a little too quiet in there. John pressed his ear against the door to listen more closely.

"What's this doing here?"

"That's... um."

"It looks pretty! Where'd you get it?" That subdued eager tone Eddie had been using during the stories finally returned.

"I'd rather not..." A pause, just long enough for John to know something was wrong. When J.J. spoke again, his voice was softer. "There's something on my mind, but I'm not ready to tell Dad yet. Don't bring it up, okay?"

"Oh. Okay."

John stiffened. A few seconds later, the door opened and the boys burst out into the hallway again. J.J. laughed at something Eddie had said on the way out, while Eddie's voice was back to that tentative rhythm from before. The tour continued. The stories picked back up. The weight in J.J.'s voice was gone. Whatever they'd seen in that room would remain there.

The last stop on the grand Hathorne house tour was the bedroom at the end of the hall. J.J. pushed the door open with a flourish, but even he looked a little sheepish as he stepped aside. "It's, uh... not much. Sorry." To the family raised here for generations, it was small. Bare walls, narrow bed, a dresser with mismatched knobs in the corner, and a desk tucked under the window.

Eddie didn't treat it like a small room. He stepped inside slowly, eyes darting around the place. Eddie's hand brushed the edge of the bed. He glanced out the window, then rapidly shut the curtains. The boy's eyes lingered on the desk like it was the finest he'd ever been offered. "I like it."

It wasn't hard to guess what kind of room Eddie had been staying in before. One didn't grow up in the slums and end up paraded before the court without learning how to fit into corners. John lingered in the hallway a moment longer, watching Eddie tentatively press a hand onto the bed as if he wasn't sure he was allowed to touch it. In time, Eddie would realize John and J.J. truly meant it when they said he was welcome here.

The three of them padded back down the hall. They regrouped in the living room, J.J. bouncing on the couch like he'd never lost momentum while Eddie hovered beside him, eyes flickering briefly to John and then away again. John took in the boy's too-thin clothes, his fraying sleeves, the soles of shoes that looked like they barely survived the walk here. John had to get him out of those...

"Let's get our shoes on, you two." John clapped his hands together. "We're heading into town."

J.J. cheered like he'd just been promised ice cream. "Yes!"

Eddie only nodded, though that tiny smile remained.

The three of them made their way through the heart of Salem, straight for the garment district. The streets were busy, with crowds moving between market stalls and storefronts. The smell of fabric dye and false flowers mingled in the air. J.J. led the way, chattering nonstop about his favorite stores and the best hats and how he once convinced Ms. Warren to give him free buttons by pretending he was building a time machine.

Eddie stuck close enough behind him to cast a shadow over J.J.'s heels. The kid kept glancing over his shoulder, flinching at passing carriages and weather vanes that creaked with the shifting winds. Then came the first tug. Eddie pulled J.J. towards a quiet corner behind a stall. Then again, just past the entrance to a narrow alleyway between fabric shops. Eddie clutched his doll tighter with every step, and John sometimes noticed him glancing into its red button eyes.

After the third tug, even J.J. was starting to get annoyed. "What's going on?" he huffed.

"We're being watched."

"By who?"

Eddie shook his head and clamped a hand over his mouth. "I can't say," he mumbled through his fingers.

John, walking a few paces ahead, paused to let the boys catched up. He watched them whisper, J.J. looking puzzled while Eddie stared past him towards something only he could see. Every sudden noise or dark alleyway seemed to make the boy flinch.

The words from the case file echoed back. "Paranoid delusions." John had been warned. He was supposed to expect this. "Eddie," John called, voice as even as he could manage. "We are safe here. There's no one following us."

"Yes, there is!" Eddie's hands curled around the doll until his knuckles turned white. "I'm not making it up. I'm not crazy..."

John stiffened at the desperation in those words. J.J.'s eyes darted between Eddie and John, unsure of what to say. John looked up slowly, making a point of glancing around the streets to avoid seeming dismissive. The crowd moved normally. No one watched them longer than a second. No figure trailed behind.

Then John saw it - a flicker of red, just above a shop sign, nestled in the upper window frame. The light came in a faint pulse that blinked slowly from a strange, tiny black box. Even the material seemed like it came from another world. John's eyes locked on the strange black device. The pulse of red light flickered and vanished, before reappearing with a bright flash. John stepped towards it.

"Whoa, whoa! W-what are you doing!?" Eddie's voice shot up, raw with panic.

John froze mid-step and turned. Eddie's face had gone pale, eyes wide, hands pushing the doll into his chest like it might keep his heart in place.

"Those things are d-dangerous! Don't touch them!" Eddie's breath quivered with each word.

"Okay. Okay... I'm backing off..." John raised both hands, palms out. Once he had returned to the kids' sides, John continued, quieter now: "I'm sorry I didn't believe you. But... what are those?"

Eddie didn't answer. He turned away and stared at the ground as if it held the secrets of the time travelers. John waited, but the silence stretched. Finally, Eddie said: "Just stay away from them." It sounded rehearsed.

John didn't press. "I'll try."

The three of them tried not to think about the lights anymore. They pushed through the heavy wooden doors of Warren's tailor shop and into the warm scent of cotton and polished floorboards. J.J. bounded ahead, diving into a rack of vests like he'd find buried treasure in there. John found himself joining in for a while as J.J. made a game out of matching colors and throwing together absurd outfits just to make Eddie crack a smile.

Eddie followed slower, his eyes scanning the corners and shelves. He picked things that fit and looked durable, clothes that covered him well. His eyes seemed focused only on the price tags... and the strict ban against anything red. Eddie rejected three shirts in a row with even the slightest stitch of red, putting them back on the shelves with gentle care. John's eyes drifted back to those blinking red lights just outside the shop. He gave Eddie a nod and gently nudged towards warm oranges and soft browns that made the tension in Eddie's shoulders loosen up.

By the time they left the tailor's, John's arms were heavy with parcels and his purse was lighter than silk. He'd bought enough for a year; maybe more. The receipt made John's stomach turn, but the threadbare clothes Eddie wore when he'd arrived pushed that feeling down. John's mind was on four months from now. He imagined the kind of life that led a child to his doorstep, draped in tattered rags and paranoia. Paying the price hurt less than sending Eddie back into that life with nothing.

The sun was just beginning to dip when they returned to the Hathorne house. J.J. flung the door open with a triumphant "We're home!" and darted straight for the couch, arms full of bright cloth and paper on the verge of ripping apart. John and Eddie set down the rest of the parcels with a heavy smile. As the three of them unpacked together, the excitement of the day settled into a warm contentment. The new clothes were folded neatly in drawers, the ribbons and tags were swept into a basket. J.J. ran off to the kitchen, loudly proclaiming that he could totally make dinner tonight.

John was halfway through sorting a mountain of receipts when Eddie, curled up on the couch, spoke up with a hopeful glitter in his eyes. "When are we going to visit Tommy?"

John's heart sank. He set the papers down and sat on the couch next to Eddie. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Eddie shivered. "Why not?"

"Because..." John paused, searching for the right words. "I don't think he's a healthy influence. Not right now. I read about the Putnam case. Tommy put you in dangerous situations. He wasn't taking care of you the way he should have."

"He did take care of me." Eddie's voice was sharper than John had heard him all day. "He always took care of me."

"I'm not saying he didn't love you, Eddie," John said firmly. "But there's a reason you're not with him right now. And I think we need to focus on -"

"What if something happens to him?" Eddie blurted. "What if I left and now he's - what if he's sick or hurt or -" The boy slipped back into that shaky, mousy version of himself from when the two first met. "W-what if Tommy thinks I abandoned him?"

John's chest tightened. He hadn't expected the question to hit this hard. He tried to soften his voice, resisting the urge to reach for Eddie's trembling form. "I promise, that's not going to happen. Tommy will understand."

"He won't understand if he's d-dead..." Eddie hugged his doll tighter. "If something happens and I'm n-not there, I won't even know. Nobody'll tell me anything. He'll j-just... disappear."

John took a breath and tried to soften his voice. "I know this is hard, but Tommy's in a place with rules and systems. If something were seriously wrong, someone would notify us. That's part of the structure. He won't disappear."

Eddie stared at John for a long, brittle moment. "But you'd like it if he did."

John exhaled. "I think the healthiest thing for you right now is space. A new environment, a fresh start -"

"A replacement for the only family I have left." Eddie looked so small, but that paranoia warped his words. "That's what this is. You hate Tommy. You w-want to erase him. And if he just d-disappears and... and I n-never see him again..." Tears welled up in Eddie's eyes. "Problem solved, right?"

John didn't move. He let the silence settle for a moment, just long enough to catch his breath and choose his words with care. "I don't hate Tommy."

Eddie tensed up. The room was silent.

"I don't want to replace him either," John added, more gently now. "I know how important Tommy is to you, but I also have to make decisions that are safe and responsible. Especially for you."

Eddie didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue anymore.

Eventually, J.J. called from the kitchen that something was boiling over. John excused himself to deal with it. "Let's not talk about Tommy anymore." John added as he rose from his seat.

He heard nothing. When John returned to the living room, Eddie was still on the couch, knees tucked up, clutching the doll like a lifeline. The distance between them felt like miles.

It was too early, in J.J.'s opinion, for anything serious to be happening, but here they were. The kitchen smelled like oatmeal, Dad had barely touched his bowl, and Eddie sat at the table looking like a man condemned.

"First day of school," Dad announced like it was some kind of holiday. "Let's talk expectations."

J.J. wisely decided to bury themself in their oats. Eddie nodded once.

"You're smart," Dad continued, though his firm tone made the praise fall flat. "We've all seen that. You've done well, even with what you've been going through. But you've missed a lot of school, and that's going to change."

Eddie didn't seem to respond. J.J. subtly reached for his hand.

"This isn't optional." Dad emphasized each word. "You must go to school. Every weekday. Understand?"

"I didn't skip because I wanted to," Eddie protested.

"I know. I'm not blaming you." Dad's face twisted, but his tone remained steady. "I'm just saying you're safe here, and part of being safe is learning how to live like you have a future."

Eddie didn't look up, but he nodded again, a little slower this time.

School quickly became a fact of life. Eddie still dragged his feet some mornings, just out of fatigue and the quiet disbelief that this was still real. Still, he went, every weekday, rain or shine.

Some classes gave the new kid a headache, while others lit Eddie up. Numbers and logic stuck better than essays and Latin, despite the way Eddie weaved words at home. Home Ec was a breeze. History confused Eddie unless it was told like a story. In the firestorms of a rich private school, those good grades that were once a point of pride began to slip under stricter expectations. Still, Eddie tried, and the fervor put into every assignment made even a C-student like J.J. excited to keep up.

The classroom wasn't all adventures. J.J. saw the way Eddie flinched when they heard the name "Ms. Catherine Alta" at the admissions desk. But the world was smaller here, where the worst that could happen to a kid was red ink scrawled on their paper and getting reprimands from a teacher they didn't like. At lunch and recess, J.J would find their newfound friend, plop down beside him, and just start talking.

Eddie began to unfold before J.J. saw it coming. The new kid would begin chatting with someone at the lunch table without waiting for J.J. to arrive. Eddie initiated games on the playground that he'd learned at his old school back home. He casually mentioned raising his hand more in class, and seemed to be less frustrated when tests returned with a lower number than he'd like. Little bursts of confidence no one but J.J. saw.

Yet, the new kid didn't turn around overnight. Eddie still rarely smiled. He flinched when voices got too loud or he caught a glimpse of one of those blinking red lights just off the school property. He clammed up whenever J.J. asked more about where Eddie came from or what he'd seen down there. And he never seemed to keep any friends for long. Kids were all too eager to talk to the local legend who helped bring down a serial killer, but whenever J.J. thought Eddie might hit it off with someone, he began to pull away.

J.J. was no fool. They knew exactly why Eddie faded out of conversations whenever they seemed to go well. Even if no one dared bring it into words, they both knew what it meant when four months was up and it was time for Eddie to go home. It meant the painful loss of whatever delicate connections Eddie made on the other side of the slums. J.J. saw that pain ahead of time. They'd sometimes catch Eddie staring at them, sad and longing with splotches of blush on his face, when the new kid thought J.J. wasn't looking.

Six weeks passed before anyone knew it.

John rose before dawn. The house was wrapped in silvery moonlight and soft wind. He expected to be the first one up, but when John padded down the stairs, he saw a familiar silhouette hunched over the front window. Eddie, fully dressed for a day at the farm, hair combed with a soldier's stiff precision. Every morning since Clef walked free - twelve days ago now - Eddie had taken his spot by the window, holding his breath for a response to the flurry of letters John had to hastily omit the return address from before sending out.

John stood behind Eddie, taking in the stillness of the rising sun. The lucky stars had been on John's side until now, keeping Tabitha from finding Eddie with her limited resources from the slums. Now that Clef was free, John and Eddie both knew it was only a matter of time before the new duke's connections found their way to the Hathorne house.

A part of John had hoped this would all fade, and Eddie would shift his hopes to his future instead of his past. But there he was, for twelve days in a row. John placed a hand on Eddie's shoulder while the faint ticking of the clock above the fireplace filled the silence between them. The man thought of saying something gentle and pragmatic, like "Sometimes people get busy," or "It might take longer than you think," but the words didn't come out. There was no good way to tell Eddie to stop hoping for something that would only reopen his wounds.

Eddie spotted the courier before John did. The boy shook with something happier than nerves as the figure approached the mailbox, and John had to stop Eddie from rushing out the door. When John returned, he was flipping through a small stack of envelopes when two of them caught his eye. One seemed normal, almost unassuming, save for Eddie's name written on the back. The other stood out immediately, with thick parchment, elegant calligraphy spelling Edward Teach, and the fanciest stationery John had ever seen. The man's stomach tightened; for a moment John considered doing something unimaginably cruel, before he shook the awful thought from his mind.

"Hey, we need to head out," John called, gently folding the letters while trying to keep his voice light. "J.J.'s waiting on us."

Eddie's eyes fixated on the envelopes in John's hands. The excitement on the kid's face twisted into an anxious stillness. Eddie stepped forward, arms lifting up as if starting to reach for the letters, before he stopped himself and shivered.

"Tell you what." John crouched down to Eddie's level and gave him a little smile. "I'll leave these in your room for now. Your little doll can stand guard until we get back, okay?"

Eddie hesitated, then nodded again. John squeezed his shoulder and departed from the front window to tuck the envelopes on Eddie's bed, propped carefully against the pillow. Eddie placed the doll sitting up beside the letters, arms outstretched and bright red eyes shining into John's own. The pair left, and John closed the door behind him with a quiet sigh. The delay wouldn't last forever, but a few more hours was better than nothing.

John watched the boys from a short distance as they tromped through dewy grass, lit by the gentle glow of the early morning sun. J.J. knew this land like the back of his hand. He moved with the confidence of a kid who grew up bottle-feeding calves and turning compost with a stick longer than he was tall. In an instant he was halfway across the pasture and lost in his tasks.

Eddie trailed behind, cautious eyes flickering towards every sound and movement. The goats and cattle unsettled him the most: they were big, unpredictable, and far too eager to approach with the aim of sniffing at Eddie's hair or licking his face. He flinched more than once at their presence and quickly shifted towards the vegetable rows to settle into safer work. Pulling weeds, patting down soil around young sprouts, inspecting leaves for bugs. This Eddie took to rather quickly, as his nearly hypervigilant attention to detail was given a place to shine without spiraling.

John carefully kept watch, while shouldering the more difficult tasks the kids couldn't quite handle yet. Working the plough, tending to the larger animals, talking business with the farmhands. John was in the middle of harvesting blackberries from a particularly thorny bush when he heard J.J. howling with laughter nearby.

J.J. was elbow-deep in compost while Eddie carried a bucket of grains, wiping sweat and soil from his brow. Eddie began launching into another one of those wretched stories; this one seemed to be about sneaking past a merchant's watchdog using a trail of sausages. "...and by the time the dog figured it out, I was halfway across the roof with the ledger -"

"You know, Eddie," John interrupted, without looking up from his own work. "You don't need to keep telling stories like that. It's not the kind of stuff you should be proud of."

Eddie's voice faltered. He was quiet for a moment, perhaps expecting John to laugh it off or ease up. When John's expression remained serious, Eddie just gave a sharp nod. "Okay."

Eddie didn't speak another word for hours. J.J. tried to carry the energy himself, but those efforts fell flat without Eddie to bounce off of. Soon, J.J. went quiet as well. The spark was gone in an instant. The kids worked with hunched shoulders and stayed close without quite meeting each other's eyes. The only sounds that remained were the rustle of leaves and the occasional cluck from the chicken coop.

The sun began its descent to the horizon when John patted his coat pocket and froze. "Ah - hang on. Forgot my keys," he muttered, heading back towards the house. "Should've left them on the hook." Once he made it inside, John dug through the clutter, trying to remember if he'd left the keys by the stove, or maybe in his study. When he finally spotted them, half-tucked under a folded newspaper in the living room, John grabbed the keys with a relieved sigh.

When he returned to the farm, John's eyes landed on the shed door. Eddie was in the middle of fiddling with the lock while J.J. bounced on his toes, wide-eyed and gleaming with excitement. Eddie's eyes flickered towards John for a second, then returned to his work. By the time John reached the shed, the lock fell away with a loud click, and the door was open.

John stopped just short of the doorway. His expression shifted into something that made Eddie flinch. He clasped J.J.'s hand and bolted across the grass. It took a second for John to process what had happened, and then John ran after them. The man's heart jumped into his throat as he called, "Eddie! Hey, wait -!"

Eddie was already at the porch steps, hurriedly pulling J.J. up and into the house. John caught the door just before it could slam shut and stepped in after him. By now, the boys were separated. J.J. poked his head out from down the hall with a puzzled look on his face, while John searched the rest of the house for Eddie. Soon, John found Eddie in his bedroom, curled up on the floor by the foot of his bed. One hand clutched that little doll, while the other clung to Clef and Tabitha's unopened letters like a lifeline.

John gently opened the door. "Hey, Eddie." When Eddie didn't respond, John crossed the room and crouched beside him, making sure to keep a little distance between the boy and himself. "I'm not mad at you."

"Then why do you look like you hate me?"

John winced. "I don't hate you. I just want to talk about what happened at the shed."

Eddie sat up and nodded, his face brittle with tension.

"I don't want you picking locks around here, Eddie." John tried to keep his tone even. "This isn't the kind of road we should be going down."

"I just wanted to help." Eddie's voice came out small.

"I know." John gave a little smile. "And I appreciate that, truly. But I still don't want you doing it again. Next time, just ask. You don't need to solve everything by yourself." John reached out to rest his hand on the floor between them, inviting an approach.

Slowly, cautiously, Eddie took the offer, placing the hand carrying the doll on top of John's own.

John's lecture died in his throat.

Summer fully hit as the end of July crept up on J.J. and Eddie. The air was thick with heat, and the roads shimmered like glass under the sun. The days stretched out so long, it felt like they might never end. It should have been perfect. It should have been happy. J.J. kept waiting for the mood to lift. Not even a gloomy kid like Eddie could eat ice cream without smiling, but the smiles faded as soon as they were off the porch. Letters from Clef were devoured in minutes, never to be spoken of again. Eddie's stories vanished entirely, and he shied away from Dad's presence every time they locked eyes.

The worst of the strange tension hit on walks to school. Eddie's eyes would drift towards the same shipwreck on the far end of the harbor, his expression halfway between smiling and hovering on the verge of tears. Eddie never said more than a whisper of the name Dad had made forbidden in the house. His face always snapped back to normal whenever J.J. nudged Eddie's elbow or squeezed his hand, but it didn't fool J.J. for a second.

One rainy morning in the middle of a rainy week, J.J. walked to school with a wooden sword strapped to their back and a bandana tied around their head, just like they would whenever the kids played pirates in the yard. Eddie paused, his eyes flickering with recognition, but he didn't acknowledge it further than that. Not even a smile or a nod. When the pair walked past the harbor, Eddie gazed at the remains of Tommy's ship, then at J.J.'s outfit, then back. This time, when J.J. held Eddie's hand, that gloomy expression on his face didn't fade.

J.J. pulled Eddie aside, making sure those unsettling red lights were nowhere nearby before they spoke. "Hey, Eddie? What's going on? You've been... distant."

"It's about Tommy." Eddie shook his head. "John doesn't want me -"

"Dad isn't here." J.J. squeezed Eddie's hand tighter. "He doesn't need to know."

This time Eddie really looked like he was about to cry. Tense shoulders, arms crossed tightly, gaze fixed at anything but J.J. Still, he didn't break, only letting out a heavy sigh. "This winter, Tommy promised he'd take me to the beach when it warmed up..."

"Oh." J.J.'s heart twisted. "You know, we can still make the beach trip happen. Have you asked Dad about it?"

Eddie gave J.J. a skeptical look. "He's still mad at me about the shed. And if I tell him why..." Eddie's eyes drifted to the harbor again. "That would just make it worse."

"There's nothing to worry about, he's not that angry." J.J. grinned and nudged Eddie's side. "How about we ask together? I'll take the lead."

Eddie's eyes flickered toward J.J. hesitantly, before his lips tugged into a smile he wouldn't let fully form. "You'd do that?"

J.J. nodded. "Of course. Whenever you're ready, I'll be there."

"Yeah... I'd like that." Eddie paused for a moment. His smile widened just enough to show a flicker of hope. "But if we get in trouble for this, I'm going to be so mad at you."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take." J.J. knew it would be just fine.

--

The rain cleared up in the nick of time, just before July's curtain call. A little family arrived at a beach that came alive with crashing waves and calling gulls. Salt and old rain drifted through the air, carrying the scent of freedom. J.J. and Eddie couldn't get enough of it. The morning had started quiet. Eddie's eyes kept darting back to John, like he was waiting for the trip to be canceled at the last second. Once their shoes were off and they hit the sand, the salty sea breeze peeled all that worry right off of Eddie, and he wasted no time diving right in.

While J.J. was testing the water with their heels, Eddie was already waist-deep and splashing around like the waves were his true home. The pair found seashells shaped like spirals and shards of sea glass they had to stop themselves from picking up. They built a sandcastle with their haul of seashells as battlements and a dried-up piece of seaweed to form the castle's flag. Eddie led the charge back to the shoreline, daring J.J. to go deeper, then promptly shrieked with laughter when the water splashed too high. J.J. trailed behind, watching the joy in Eddie's stride.

After a while, the whole world narrowed down to the sound of the ocean. Footsteps on the sand slowed to a crawl. Eddie grabbed J.J.‘s arm a little tighter than he probably meant to. He had a mischievous glint in his eye, the kind that let J.J. know Eddie had finally found the opportunity to tell one of those cool stories Dad didn't like to hear for some reason. Yet, this story began and ended in only a few words: "I'm going to show you something cool. Follow me."

J.J.'s eyes sparkled with delight. Eddie didn't need to spell out where they were going. For J.J. remembered those days when the two of them ventured close to the beach. On those precious walks, Eddie would whisper the name that Dad forbade him to speak aloud, and gaze towards an old ship marooned on the far side of the harbor. Eddie effortlessly grabbed a black cloth from his bag while Dad wasn't looking, and slipped out of sight along the edge of the water with a trail of droplets forming behind him. Eddie let himself smile a little as soon as the sounds of the beach made way to the sounds of ships and dock workers on the harbor.

The kids traveled for what felt like no time at all, each crunch of sand accelerating J.J.'s excited shaking, faster and faster, until a monument of cracked wood finally appeared before J.J. and Eddie. J.J. practically dragged Eddie into the adult-sized hole in the ship's hull. Their fervor to explore every inch of a real life pirate ship had J.J. bouncing off of every wall this old place had left. Its sheer size made J.J.'s heart race. Despite the rotting wood and ancient metal, the ship held an air of mystery and grandeur. Gods, Tommy was so cool. Dad had no idea what he was missing out on.

"This is... yours?" J.J. breathed, eyes darting from the broken timbers to Eddie, who nodded with an ever-growing smile. J.J. eagerly scrambled through the ship, checking every crevice and corner as they imagined the adventures Tommy must have had here. The image of Tommy's ship in its prime formed in J.J.'s mind, full of sailors and adventure beyond their wildest dreams. J.J. climbed to the hull to see the flag in all its glory, only to find it missing. "Hey, where's the..." J.J. paused. Eddie wasn't behind them anymore.

J.J. slowly crept back down towards the inner hull of Tommy's ship. There, Eddie sat, clutching an ancient compass in one hand, wrapped in a black flag with the painted skull and crossbones peeking out from behind him. Eddie quivered like he was holding off tears. Eddie seemed so excited to be here - he smiled, for once, and Eddie rarely smiled... "Eddie? You alright?"

As soon as the words reached Eddie's ears, it was like a dam burst open. "It's almost like Tommy's here," Eddie's voice quivered. "Like I can almost hear him in my head, but it's not real. It's not real, it's not real, it's just... just a stupid husk of wood and..." Eddie's words fell apart. The brave, cool hero-thief mask he wore to impress J.J. fully shattered, and though Eddie still smiled, those tears he had fought back until now finally fell down his face.

J.J.'s vision blurred in turn. They reached for Eddie's free hand, slowly, gently, like Dad had warned them. Those warnings soon meant nothing, for Eddie's hand whipped towards their own like a viper and squeezed it tight. For a moment they just sat there on the sand, protected from the world by the deep shade of Tommy's ship.

No miracle words could reach through the twelve years of this boy's life, before J.J. and Eddie met. Ocean waves knocking against the rotting wood spoke for them. Indistinct voices that blurred together from far away spoke for them. The call of seagulls and the crunch of sand shifting beneath the weight of two children desperate for something to ground them spoke for them.

When Eddie looked up again, he was still smiling. Tears still fell from his eyes. His voice quivered, just a little bit. "You wanna hear another story?"

J.J. noted the cracks in Eddie's voice, but the spark beneath the surface shined through. Their face lit up instantly, the somber mood forgotten for just a moment. "Yeah!" J.J.'s eyes went wide with anticipation. It was like the old Eddie had returned, the one who came to life whenever he had a new story to tell.

Eddie took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

One minute, the sky was clear as glass. The sun shined bright over a cool breeze in the middle of autumn. The waves were calm, the sails billowed westward. Tommy always talked about how smooth the voyage had been, right before the sky turned black and the winds picked up. Then the crew heard a low, rumbling growl from the depths of the ocean itself. Nobody - Tommy included, but he'd never tell you that - knew what hit them.

The sky tore open in about five seconds. An inky blackness swallowed the sun. The wind howled like a pack of beasts clawing from the depths of Davy Jones's locker. Tommy says he saw the first wave from a little window in the hull. A black wall of water rising higher than the mast, crashing down on the ship like it was made of stone. He rushed upstairs and grabbed the steering wheel so hard some of the wood stuck to his fingers.

The ship pitched side to side, fighting against the wind. People screamed and ran. The first mate barked orders nobody heard, least of all Tommy. Sails were flapping wildly, ropes snapped loose in every direction. The rest of the crew were a blur in the edges of Tommy's vision, rushing to keep the ship from falling apart. The wood tossed and creaked. Monstrous waves rose higher than the mast and tried to split it in half with their weight. Tommy barely kept hold onto the wheel - the ship was more controlling him than the other way around, although he never liked to admit that part. He tries to act like he was one step ahead of the disaster the whole time, even though it's not Tommy's fault that he couldn't have been.

The storm seemed to get worse with every second. Tommy swears his compass started spinning on its own, crazy fast, almost drilling through its own casing. Soon, the rain came down in sheets so thick he could hardly breathe. Tommy tried to keep the ship straight even though the wheel seemed to fight him on its own accord. He knew there were rocks somewhere nearby, but the fog was too thick and the sky was too dark and -

The tale stopped in its tracks with a horrible scream. Eddie scrambled to his feet and ran towards the entrance punched into the ship's hole. Before J.J. could process what was happening, they'd been shoved into the darkest corner as Eddie cried, "Stay behind me!" The boy then lunged back towards the entrance of the ship, where J.J. could hear the heavy sound of wood scraping outside the hull. There wasn't much to see from this angle, except Eddie's arms spread out in front of the entrance, quivering like thin branches in the depths of a storm.

J.J. slowly emerged from the corner and made their way to Eddie's side. Awful, terrified whimpers nearly masked out the sound of familiar footsteps on the sand. The figure J.J. saw marching through the dock made their heart jump with cold recognition and a flash of guilt. J.J. wrapped their arms tightly around Eddie. "It's Dad. It's just Dad. It's going to be okay, Eddie, relax..."

"EDWARD!"

Eddie jolted. Both kids shivered at the voice that crashed through the ship like a wave.

Dad's thunderous eyes locked onto Eddie as he stormed towards the ship. "You two - what the hell were you thinking!? You can't just disappear like that! Do you have any idea how dangerous this is!?" Dad didn't stop. He looked more worried than furious, but J.J. knew Eddie wouldn't see that. "If something happened to you out here; if that hull caved in or you fell and broke something, no one would have found you in time!" Dad kept stomping and shouting, looming over Eddie and the thin barrier he formed between J.J. and their enraged father. "Never, ever run off like that again!"

Every pained noise Eddie let out as he desperately tried to form words made J.J.'s stomach turn. He was breathing too hard, too fast, quivering with every exhale. The scraps of Eddie's face that J.J. could see were red and blotchy, with tears streaming down his cheeks. Eddie's legs looked ready to give while his arms stayed stretched like a shield across the hull's opening. "I'm so s-sorry..." Eddie's voice was raw and shaky. "P-please don't hurt us..."

The fury in Dad's face cracked. J.J. squeezed Eddie tighter. Dad slowed his approach with quiet, heavy steps that looked like he was holding himself back. He scanned the inside of the shipwreck as if he was only really looking at it now, before his eyes landed on the flag wrapped around Eddie's shoulders.

"Eddie. I'm not going to hurt anyone." Dad wasn't yelling anymore, but his voice was firm enough to make Eddie flinch again. "I know this place matters to you, but this was reckless. You're not allowed to come back here alone again. Either of you."

Eddie's shoulders twitched at the warning. "I j-just wanted to see it one more time," Eddie mumbled, quieter now. "With someone who'd listen."

Dad's anger flared again. "Then speak to me. I would have -"

"No you wouldn't." A little fire ignited in Eddie's eyes, and his voice came out sharper than he'd meant it. "You hate Tommy so much you wouldn't let me say his name. If I t-told you this was Tommy's ship, you'd..." Eddie was trembling again. "Y-you'd tear the ship down, or b-burn it, or...! If you could m-make it go away, then you'd finally get to erase him..."

"That's not true," Dad said quietly. "It's not about Tommy. I never wanted to erase him." Dad stopped and crouched just enough to be level with the kids. "I just want you two to be safe. That's all. Sneaking off by yourselves, climbing through rusted holes in a shipwreck? That's dangerous. I got scared. You scared me."

Silence. Eddie's knuckles were white on the edges of the hull. J.J. saw his lips twitching like Eddie was fighting back tears, or words, or both.

"Eddie, it's alright." J.J. waited for Eddie to face them before continuing. "Dad's just worried about us. Right, Dad?"

"Right." Dad sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "I'm not going to tear this place down. I wouldn't do that to you. You can miss Tommy. You can talk about him. You can even show me what he left behind." Dad placed a hand on Eddie's shoulder. Eddie shivered again, but didn't move. "Just... don't shut me out anymore. Okay? Can I come in?"

A moment's pause. J.J. could see gears turning in Eddie's mind, processing the change in Dad's expression. He didn't look mad anymore, not really. His eyes were warmer now.

J.J. gave Eddie's hand one more squeeze. "Come on. We'll be okay."

The crunch of sand shifting beneath Eddie spoke for him. He slowly lowered his arms from the broken rim of the hull's opening, and stepped to one side. Eddie glanced cautiously at Dad, terror flickering in his eyes as he braced himself for the worst. The breeze pushed in through the entrance, rustling the pirate flag on Eddie's shoulders.

A bit of wonder glittered in Dad's eyes as he slowly paced into the ship. J.J. saw the way Dad's gaze lingered on the golden light filtering through this relic of ancient wood. The three of them made their way towards the compass that had been forgotten in Eddie's fervor to protect this place and its innumerable value in the boy's heart. Dad sat down in the middle of the hull, making a point not to intrude too forcefully upon this precious space. His expression finally relaxed into a smile. "It sounded like that story was getting good. What happened next?"

---

Lifelink Prologues