Chapter Text
[ID: Title card created by Juniper for the Reverse Big Bang story “Into the Heart of the Forest.” Title card has a spring green background. Growing from left side into a ring is a circle of pink and deep purple morning glories. The title is in a dark green script in the ring of flowers. To the upper left in the same font is “by LyraTalise” and under it “Art by Juniper.” End ID]
Crisp morning sunlight shone through the windows that lined the dining room, making the space almost unbearably bright. Stede blinked and slightly angled his head so that he was receiving less of a face full of sunshine. He’d suggested coffee at a sweet little shop he adored, but Mary had said that it wouldn’t be convenient at all. Now they were ensconced in a room they’d rarely used in their marriage, the entire family preferring the table in the kitchen. In his absence, Mary had converted it into a painting studio/office, and the dining room table had been banished to storage. Stede was sitting at a tiny bistro table with a cup of his favorite tea, which was a nice gesture on Mary's part.
Mary sighed and swiped a hand through her straight-cut brown bangs. “I disagree. Send an agent. It doesn’t have to be you, and no good can come from digging into whatever was wrong with that man.”
“But wouldn’t you love to know what happened?” Stede asked, not concealing the thread of excitement in his voice. He knew it was the wrong feeling, that even bare curiosity might be inappropriate to this moment, but he had to know the answers. He was sure no one else would go looking for them.
Mary shook her head. “Stede, your father was raving. I don’t think you're going to find anything that makes sense of it, especially not there.”
“There” was the house his father had spent the last twenty years in, isolated and paranoid. He’d refused to let the grandchildren visit and wouldn't come to them. He’d only seen Alma and Louis on a handful of occasions at a restaurant a short drive from the manse. Then the visits had dried up entirely five years ago, his father not even attempting to attend their high school graduations.
“It doesn’t make sense for anyone else to go. Who else, besides family, is going to know what’s important and what’s not? The place will have to be sorted out, especially if I decide to sell it. Just letting it fall into ruin is irresponsible.” Stede paused and studied Mary’s face, the lines between her eyebrows. “You don’t think it’s…unsafe, do you?”
“If you’re asking me if I think it’s haunted, I don’t know!” Mary tossed up her hands nearly catching the edge of her saucer with the violence of the gesture. “Reasonably? No. But I remember what your father was like before, back when I first met him, and it wasn’t this. Something happened. Something spooked him. He lectured me on familial duty for two hours before I was ‘allowed to join his line.’ Then a few years later, he’s refusing to see the grandchildren he insisted we have.”
“You’ve always said—”
“Don’t tell me what I said, Stede! I know. Maybe it’s easier to believe that he’d just lost his tether to reality, good enough for him. But I don’t think you should go there to find out.”
“You’re asking me to not visit my dead father’s potentially creepy house in case ghosts are real, and it’s haunted.”
“It sounds really bloody ridiculous when you put it that way.” Mary rolled her eyes. “But, yes, that. Leave it alone.”
“I love that you care—”
“For the children.” Mary’s smile was wry.
“They hardly need me, and I’ve been at loose ends since I retired. I’m bored and useless. You…you took what came after and made something out of it, and I’m treading water. I don’t want things to stay the same.” Stede spoke the truth easily, a thing they’d made a habit of over the last five years, as they slowly dissolved their marriage.
“There are ways to change that aren’t this. Have you considered a hobby?” The brightness in Mary’s eyes suggested she was joking.
Stede responded in kind. “I don’t think pickleball was quite the transformative experience I was hoping for.”
“Volunteer! Start a band! I don’t know, but don’t do this. It’s giving me the creeps. The hair’s standing up on the back of my neck.” She pointed a finger at the spot.
“Are you sure that isn’t just a bad pistachio pastry? You’ve never been superstitious before. Father, in fact, used to go on about what a practical head you have on your shoulders.”
“No, I’m not, which is why you should take it seriously, or…You’re not, are you?” Mary took a long sip of her tea, her eyes thoughtful. “If you’re going to go anyway, at least promise me you’ll leave if…if it’s wrong. Don’t stay. You know there’s always that bit, in the movie, when the people say, ‘Oh, we have to stay! We invested our entire life’s savings into this haunted dump!’ Just get out, okay? Doug won’t mind if you move into the guest room.”
“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Stede said dryly. “It’s not like I need a place to stay. I need a purpose, and this promises to be interesting, whatever else is happening.” Stede considered, but didn’t want to actually agree that he would abandon the house if it happened to be creepy. What even counted as creepy? He would hate for the house to be fascinating and then feel obligated to leave it because he’d assured his worrying his ex-wife that he would. “I promise not to stay because I invested my entire life’s savings into a haunted dump.”
“You know that isn’t what I asked for.”
“I know,” Stede said, leaning back into his chair. “I just…I think I’m ready for an adventure. I’ll take Lucius. He’s like a skittish colt. If anyone would drag me out of a haunted house for my own good, it’s him. Better?”
“I suppose it’ll have to do. Would you like more tea?”
“Oh, why not, since it may be a bit before I get back your direction. The house isn’t exactly close.” Situated out in the far east part of the state, the trip took nearly three hours, which wasn’t far, but wasn’t a “pop over right quick” distance either.
Mary smiled. “So did you hear from Louis this week?”
Lucius had been Stede’s assistant before he retired. He’d never been particularly devoted to the job, but Stede found he liked him a great deal anyway, between his carefree attitude and general zest for life. Lucius had chosen to abandon business life at the same time as Stede, giving it up for the pursuit of art and working part-time in a coffee shop for “exposure to new people.” Stede had expressed surprise when it happened, and Lucius had carefully explained that he’d been tucking away his rather generous salary, no matter how much it appeared he lived life flitting about.
That choice hadn’t been the only surprise. Stede had assumed that his connection with Lucius would go with the job, but in the year or so since he’d retired, the bond had only continued to strengthen. Stede was hoping that closeness would work to his benefit, because Lucius was in no way obligated to go with him on this bizarre mission, but perhaps Stede would be able to talk him into it.
They met for cocktails that evening, seated in the bar of a restaurant Stede had never eaten at. It was too snooty for his tastes, favored by the kind of people he’d never enjoyed rubbing shoulders with. He’d chosen designer jeans and a fitted merino sweater in a nice lavender for this meeting. He was only underdressed in comparison to the suited men who’d come straight from their high-powered business meetings, a look he did not miss sporting in the least. Stede twisted on his barstool and peered at the space around them and then turned back to Lucius, who was already watching him.
“Just go ahead and say it,” Lucius said with a sigh, swirling his appletini. He’d grown his sideburns into a rather striking set of mutton chops in the time since he’d left the business world. When Stede had asked about them, Lucius had explained that he was obligated to have them as a bellwether of the local queer community. The front of his hair was brushed up and swirling down over his brow, and he’d chosen a striped boatneck sweater with a red silk scarf tied at an angle. He was apparently no more invested than Stede in fitting in here.
“This doesn’t seem like your kind of place at all.”
“It’s not. I’m meeting someone, and it’s not going to work out, but it is conveniently located, so I thought two birds, one stone, all that. You said you had an opportunity?”
“I need to make a trip—”
“Where?” Lucius demanded, clearly not wanting to wait while Stede spun an entire tale.
“My father’s house.”
Lucius’s eyebrow quirked high. “Wasn’t he a—”
“He was troubled. I need to take care of several things there before I can look at selling.”
“Whatever would you need me for?” Lucius sounded bored, but there was a spark in his eyes that made Stede think that he might actually be interested.
“I imagine that there will be quite a bit of sorting to be done, and I trust your instincts in those kinds of things. Also it’s lovely scenery, green forest and creeks and such. It could be good for your art.”
“That’s not the kind of art I do.”
“No?”
“No. It’s dicks. Cock and balls, realistic depictions of pubic hair. Really capturing the beauty of the male form.”
“Oh. I think they have dicks there too.”
Lucius stared. Stede stared back. They both started laughing at the same time.
“Thank you, Stede, for that incredibly relevant information. Is this a paid opportunity?”
“I’d be asking you to work, so yes, paid.”
“For how long?” Lucius asked, scanning over the people seated around them, presumably checking to make sure his date hadn’t arrived yet.
“A few weeks to a few months. I’m not sure how big of a project it is. I’ve never even been there, but I understand the place is large. I have no idea what we’ll find. He…” Stede wasn’t sure how he meant to finish that, really. He sipped his drink, and added, “He could have done anything to the house.”
“What aren’t you saying?” Lucius asked, and that, right there, was why Stede wanted Lucius to come. He was uncannily good at reading people.
“Mary has a bad feeling. She doesn’t believe in ghosts, not exactly, but the place gives her the creeps. I wouldn’t promise to leave if it’s haunted, but she’s sure that you’ll drag me out for my own good.”
“Hmm, are they, um, frisky ghosts? Because I wouldn’t mind a bit of a supernatural encounter, if you know what I mean.” He grinned.
Stede couldn’t help his smile in response. Of all the possibilities! “I don’t think there are any ghosts, and I highly doubt they’re the sexy kind if they were haunting my father, but we can’t rule anything out.”
“Ooh, well that does sound promising, and honestly, I’m already bored to tears with coffee. Text me a number, wait twenty minutes, and then text me a second number, fifteen percent higher, and I’ll do it.”
“That’s terrible negotiation,” Stede pointed out reasonably.
“You know what I’m worth. It would kill you to underpay me.”
Ah, the downside to Lucius’s fantastic people skills. “You’d be correct. Thank you for being willing to help me.”
“Who could resist getting the team back together. You’ll send me all the info?”
“Yes, tomorrow.”
“Amazing, and there’s my date. Ta-ta, boss.” Lucius slid off the barstool, leaving Stede to pay the bill.
He took out his phone and texted Lucius what he felt was a fair number, even with the knowledge that he’d be upping it in fifteen minutes. He did already feel better, though, having the assurance he wouldn’t be going alone. There was comfort in familiarity, and Mary was certainly correct about one thing—he had no idea what he was walking into.
Five years had passed since Stede had last made this drive with Mary and the children, and he had a vague memory of more green than usual, but not much beyond that. The highway looked much like any other in the state, a long stretch of gray road with mowed-down yellow grass on either side, spring weeds only just beginning to pop up this early in the year. Farther back, though, were spaced-out new growth pines, not large enough to obscure the view behind them.
Perhaps he should have come sooner, but he’d had no interest in holding a memorial service to honor the man’s memory. Also, the twenty years of isolation meant that his father didn’t have anyone left to complain that his family wasn’t doing right by him. Stede had looked the house up on an app, and then looked it up again, and then a third time. He’d never been to it, at his own father’s insistence, but he’d imagined how it would look, gothic and looming.
He’d been wrong. His father had purchased an entirely normal, late nineties home, decorated in a luxurious style meant to flash wealth and privilege—four bedrooms, just as many baths, a pool and a pool house. All Stede could think was that, clearly, his father had meant to entertain, had purchased the place with grandchildren in mind. Then for unknown reasons, he’d done this other thing instead, closing himself away in the country for a couple of decades.
“You seem lost in thought,” Lucius said from the passenger seat.
“I still can’t figure out the house. Maybe the pictures are wrong.”
“What did you imagine?” Lucius asked, sounding sarcastic, but that was just how he talked.
“Stone building, haunted gables, cobwebs, gargoyles…I don’t know! Not golden wallpaper, crown molding, chandeliers, and imported rugs. I suppose he bought it when he was still normal, but I’d always believed it was the house that led to the change. Clearly it wasn’t that.”
“We haven’t gotten there yet, maybe it’s awful.”
“I’ve spoken to the groundskeeper Pete several times. He’s assured me that the house is in good condition. He and a weekly cleaning service have kept the place spotless since my father’s passing.”
“So this Pete’s expecting us?”
“Yes, he lives on the grounds apparently, in the pool house. He’s been there about five years, after the previous one quit.”
“Or died under mysterious circumstances?” Lucius asked with a note of hope.
“Quit. He still lives in town.”
“Maybe less adventure than you were hoping for, but still, it’s something to do, hmm?”
The outskirts of the town flashed past, the buildings increasing in number and density as they drove into town and then dwindling back down again as they passed out the other side. To the left, Stede saw the roadside restaurant his father had chosen as their meeting place, and beside it, separated by a parking lot, a bar that had to have been built seventy years before, worn and barely hanging on to its continued existence. That. That’s what he’d expected the house to look like, if not a gothic manor. It had no business being normal.
Stede followed the navigation instructions turning left at the next intersection, and then left again, the presence of dwellings dropping rapidly as the trees increased in size and choked out more of the daylight.
“I didn’t know there were still forests like this in the area. They were mostly cut down over a hundred years ago.”
There were still gaps, splashes of light across the road, but the trees were much closer together than they’d been on the highway. Stede took one more left turn, the pavement giving way to gravel. The road was maintained, but through a tunnel of trees on either side.
For the first time, Stede felt some of the eeriness that Mary had claimed. But he was certain it was only the sudden dark, which yielded just as quickly to light when they reached the house. It was sitting at the center of a huge cleared space—a massive lawn of precisely mown grass. The driveway transformed back to pavement, a smoothly-laid concrete loop centered on the house’s front entrance, a white-columned portico. To either side of it were meticulously-shaped boxwoods flanked by carefully-trimmed crape myrtles, still winter dormant.
“Oh.” Lucius’s mouth was hanging open as he took in the place.
“Like I said.”
Stede pulled in front of the portico and put the car in park, wondering if Pete was watching for them or if he should just take out his keys. He landed in the middle and sent Pete a text informing him that they’d arrived and that they were going into the house.
Stede paused before unlocking the iron and glass front door, studying the outside of the home, matching it against the pictures he’d looked at again and again. It was constructed of assorted red-toned brick, leaning more to light than dark, the effect a pale red. The gray roof was new, and Stede marveled at that. His father hadn’t seen Louis since he was thirteen, but had somehow found the wherewithal to have the house freshly roofed in that time. None of it made sense.
Stede should have pushed harder, but it had suited him to leave his father alone. He’d been hard, stubborn, inflexible, opinionated, and Stede vastly preferred him at a distance, especially from his children.
“We headed in?” Lucius asked next to him.
“I suppose it’s what we're here for.” Stede opened the door and stepped into the foyer, which opened directly on a staircase leading up to the second floor. “Hello?” he called with no answer.
Lucius followed him through, swinging his head to take in the sitting room to the right and the dining room to the left. They walked deeper in, finding an enormous combined living room and kitchen with doors that opened onto a massive patio. There were still no signs of anyone else in the home, but it didn’t feel haunted, only empty. Even the smells were of cleaning supplies rather than people.
“Perhaps out back?” Stede suggested.
Just then he spotted a figure approaching the glass patio doors. The man stepped up to the door, yanked it open, and grinned.
“Hey, got here as fast as I could! I’m Pete. Pete Black.” Pete was balding, had a short beard, and was wearing a T-shirt with cutoff sleeves and an equally sleeveless jean jacket over it, in spite of the late February chill.
“Stede Bonnet,” Stede said, holding out a hand. “And my assistant Lucius Spriggs.”
“Hi,” Lucius said, fingers up in a wave.
“Hi, Lucius. Nice to meet you. Hi, Stede, nice to finally talk to you in person. Have you had a chance to look around yet?”
“No, we’ve just arrived.”
Pete shrugged. “Most of the bedrooms are up on the second floor. Primary’s on the first, past the living room, which is where your father stayed.”
“The second floor is fine,” Stede rushed out, having no interest in staying where his father had been.
“Okay, great, let me show you that, and then we can talk logistics. You never told me if you wanted the cook to come back.”
“We’ll manage on our own,” Stede assured him as they followed Pete up the stairs.
Two of the bedrooms were oriented toward the front of the house, but the third jutted off the back, overlooking the pool and facing the forest. Wall to wall glass opened onto a railed deck. Stede moved closer to the wall and spotted an external stair that led from the deck down to the pool. The view was breathtaking.
“This one. I’ll stay in this one.”
Pete looked at him, and then at all the glass. “Uh, if you want, there’s not a lot of privacy?”
“Can you see in here from the pool house?”
“No, but, the forest—”
“I want this one, thank you. Lucius you can have whichever of the other two you prefer. Or my father’s if it suits you.”
“No, thank you! I’ll take the blue one. It’s a nice shade, relaxing.” Lucius was smiling at Pete as he spoke, and it seemed to Stede that he might already be working on a new subject for his life drawing.
The discussion was fast from there, a little bit about their goals and schedule, arranging for grocery delivery, and Pete offering to feed them for the first night. Stede and Lucius returned to the car and dragged out their suitcases, Stede having required several more than Lucius did. Then they spent the afternoon getting settled into their rooms.
Stede hung his clothing and then sat on the teal tufted ottoman bench at the end of the bed to think while the sun set. He had to wonder who had purchased such a whimsical piece of furniture, not his father certainly, perhaps a designer hired to fill the house at some point in the past.
Darkness gathered around the trees, seeming even deeper at the tree line, at the dirt path into the forest’s depths. Still, the view was quite lovely as the evening bloomed from deep oranges into velvet purple.
He went down and had a good meal with Pete and Lucius in the kitchen, Pete serving a chili that he’d cooked on the hot plate in his pool house. Stede assured him he could use the kitchen going forward if he liked.
Pete’s eyes went huge, his forehead wrinkling up. “Not a chip off the old block, huh? Your father called that ‘taking liberties.’ It was a firing offense.”
“Oh, no, nothing like that! Goodness.”
“Cool. Been swimming in the pool since the old bastard died. If I have to put in all that work to keep it that pristine shade, someone should enjoy it.”
“Yes! As you should. I don’t mind at all.”
Stede excused himself after dinner, returning to the bedroom to check in with Mary, confirming that the house looked like the pictures, was in shockingly good shape, and didn’t appear to be in the least bit haunted. She said to not let his guard down, but she was glad he’d yet to see any ghosts.
He assured her he would check in again in the morning and then shut off the bedroom lamps so that he could look out the back wall without light reflecting off the glass. The night was quiet. Stede assumed it was too cold for insects yet and too early in the evening for most nocturnal animal life. He tried to remember what was native to this area and drew a blank, so he planned to look it up later.
He sat in darkness for longer than he meant to, not so much lost in thought, as just existing, finding a space where his mind wasn’t racing, but at peace. His thoughts floated by like clouds he could see but didn’t care about. There was nothing in the world but the dark and his breathing.
He could rarely access this calm in his normal life, and he could only wonder if this, the time to contemplate without limits, was what had snapped his father. After all, the man must have had much that weighed on him heavily, if he reflected on his life in the least bit. He hadn’t been a good person and had very much wanted Stede to also not be a good person.
Stede sighed and stood, walking to the door in the glass wall and pushing it open. It moved silently, the hinge working smoothly, and he stepped out onto the deck and walked to the railing. There were more ambient noises with the door open. Stede hoped he would grow able to identify them all with time.
He let his eyes trail over the pool, past the pool house out to that path into the woods. The lights from the patio didn't quite reach there, and the spot was black on black, a void at the entrance into the forest.
Or not quite black on black. Stede could sense movement, a presence, human he thought, human height at least. Surely, deer didn’t get that big, and he didn’t think the area still had bears. Perhaps Pete had walked out that direction for some reason.
Low laughter echoed over the water of the pool, and Stede wrenched his eyes away, finding Lucius and Pete at the edge of the patio talking in soft voices. He jerked his eyes back to the spot, the dark on dark, but there was nothing there at all. He must have imagined it.