Archive of Our Own

~You set sail alone, there is no crew~

It was just stress. That was all. Stress and a sudden feeling of loss that had put him in a spin, like that machine Alison used to mash fruit together. Complicated emotions all blended up into one confused bundle. Yes, the Captain decided, that was all. Mary had been ripped out of the lives -or rather deaths- quite abruptly and that had put him into a strange headspace. One that had him frozen with fear for his fellow ghosts, unable to think clearly and rationally in the way that he should.

That was all.

And then, just as he'd managed to calm the panic that had been rattling through his body for most of the day, it had surged forward once again with the realisation that Humphrey hadn't been seen in hours. Hours. Mary had been gone in less than ten seconds. What if Humphrey had gone, no one around to see, in some dusty corner of the house?

In his terrified state he'd remembered, somewhat hysterically, an old philosophy about not realising how much you care for a thing until it's gone. No doubt uttered wisely by some teacher to a bored group of students during the Captain's youth. But by golly did he remember it now. The world had tilted on its axis for a moment as he found himself imagining an afterlife without Humphrey's witty remarks and thinly veiled sarcasm that glued the house together. It spun in a lopsided, meaningless circle as he stammered out a rushed has anyone seen Humphrey because how could the world keep turning if Humphrey wasn't there to turn with it?

The Captain didn't think he'd ever felt such relief as he did when he heard Humphrey's voice. Just a snarky little "oh there you all are" from somewhere behind him, but it was enough.

Which was how he found himself a moment later standing in the foyer holding Humphrey's head in his hands, still reeling from turmoil he hadn't experienced since he was capable of feeling adrenaline in his veins. They'd lost Mary, and it was clear now that they could go at any moment. He didn't want to let any of them out of his sight ever again, least of all Humphrey, who had a habit of vanishing for days at a time.

"What's going on?"

The Captain blinked and glanced down. Humphrey was staring up at him quizzically, lips twitching into an unsure half smile, as if he wasn't sure whether to be worried or not. The Captain swallowed nervously. Well, the man had been on guard duty for goodness knows how long, confusion was to be expected.

"I'm sorry to say but er- well what I mean to say is that- er you see-" he fumbled uselessly, berating himself inwardly for his inability to carry out a simple task such as this. Humphrey needed to know Mary was gone, and here the Captain was unable to even speak. A fine leader he was turning out to be.

"It's alright, deep breath in and out. You can tell me." Humphrey said calmly. He made it sound so easy and without even a hint of judgement. Like he didn't mind if it took the Captain five minutes or five hours to explain what had happened. The Captain nodded jerkily. Right yes. He could do this. They were just words. Terrible, awful, miserable words but words nonetheless.

"It's Mary." He said quietly. "She's been sucked off."

"Ah." Humphrey's eyes softened. "I see. Thank you for telling me, I understand it was difficult."

The Captain wasn't so convinced. The topic was difficult, certainly, but it was no excuse for becoming tongue tied. Not if he was to be setting an example for the others. It was hard enough to gain their respect on a good day, it wouldn't do to squander what little reputation he had left on something as silly as a sentence. What sort of leader was he if he couldn't even get his thoughts in order long enough to deliver information from his traitorous mouth.

Humphrey must have seen something in his expression (he was surprisingly perceptive) as he tutted loudly.

"You're allowed to be vulnerable, Captain, don't go hiding under that moustache."

A joke nestled in amongst the truth, just enough to take away the sting of sadness for a blissful moment. This was Humphrey all over, so considerate and thoughtful, probably without even realising at all.

But the sentiment was so painfully similar to what Alison had told him only a few hours ago, that the Captain felt almost sick to his stomach. Perhaps he would have been, if he was capable of illness or of having a stomach. Instead he just felt uncomfortable, like he wanted to get out from under Humphrey's knowing stare. It was one thing to be openly upset about Mary's disappearance; he could agree that was understandable and he was not alone in his grief. It was quite another allowing himself to be so frivolous with emotions in such a...compact environment.

There was no hiding here, mostly because he couldn't very well drop Humphrey and make a run for it (his conscience wouldn't let him), nor could he brush the whole thing off and pretend it never happened. He was just there, in the foyer, feeling as though Humphrey was tugging on his sleeve in a futile attempt to find his heart. And futile it was, because the Captain would never leave his emotions out on display like that so easily. Not like this, anyway.

"Yes well, Mary wouldn't want us to be moping around in here all evening. Now come along, Robin was going to show us how he honours those that were sucked off before us. Let's not dawdle."

Because, whilst Humphrey may have mastered the art of getting under his skin and dragging his emotions to the surface, the Captain liked to think he was proficient enough at diverting Humphrey's attention long enough to pass him off to one of the other ghosts outside. So he ignored Humphrey's narrowed eyes and instead stepped meaningfully back outside to join the others, handing Humphrey carefully to Katherine once he reached them.

It was just stress. That was all. He'd let himself be all gooey and open with his emotions because Mary's sudden disappearance had panicked him. But that was okay. A couple days of quiet grief and he would be back to normal. No need to worry.

He pretended he couldn't feel Humphrey's eyes on him as Robin guided them through the stars that twinkled so brightly above their heads.

No need to worry.

-------

~No one on the deck who can help you~

The rest of the week felt like walking through quicksand. Sluggish and slow, with the threat of danger just a misstep away. The Captain felt too exposed around the others, nerves pulled front and centre for all to see. It was in the sad smiles they gave him when he turned to ask Mary something- a pitiful recognition because they'd all done it by now. There was nothing to take his mind of it. No guests down at the gate house, no birthday parties, weddings, films crews, or archeologists. Nothing. And even if there had been, the Captain was fairly certain Alison would have waved him away and told him to just take the time to grieve properly.

But he was tired of the cloying sadness that had settled over the house. He was tired of Patrick and Kitty patting him on the arm and telling him to let it all out of he needed. Lord knows the pair of them had cried enough tears for the rest of the ghosts and then some. He was tired of Thomas staring mournfully out of the windows, and of Fanny pointedly ignoring Loose Women when it was on. Even of Julian, who had taken to sitting quietly in the main room by the chess board wishing he'd put more effort into listening to Mary's story about Annie.

There was just too much misery. The Captain wished desperately that things could go back to way that they were. But that just reminded him that things would never be the same because the gaping hole in their little group that Mary had left behind couldn't be filled. It didn't help matters that Robin was now in the habit of disappearing off, presumably to be alone with his thoughts which the Captain could understand, but it still sent a wave of panic rushing through him which couldn't be abated until he was sure everyone was all present and correct.

So instead he'd taken a page out of Robin's book and started escaping from the oppressive claustrophobia of everyone else's grief, hiding away in forgotten spaces for an hour or two, to get away from it all. Give himself a minute to put his guard down in private. But of course it was only a matter of time before he ran into Humphrey in one of those cramped little rooms.

The Captain had been sitting on the sofa, having convinced Alison to put his favourite tank programme on. It was a nice day, sun filtering in gently through the half open curtains, and the majority of the house was in good spirits. Fanny, however, was not.

She had arrived into the room in a huff, clearly already agitated, and the sight of the Captain watching telly did nothing for her mood. Presumably because he wasn't appearing morose at that very moment, Fanny had taken it as a sign that the Captain was some unfeeling arsehole. Pat and Julian came to diffuse the situation, but not before Fanny had accused him of 'lacking empathy' and being a 'heartless swine' that no one would miss when it was his turn to move on. Alison made an appearance shortly after that but the Captain didn't stick around to find out what exactly had set Fanny off. He'd just felt frozen in place again. He wanted to be strong for the rest of the house, to be reliable, but how could he be that for them if they demanded he cry like some schoolboy in front of them.

So he hid.

And Humphrey found him. Or maybe he accidentally found Humphrey.

"Bad day?"

The Captain didn't respond, choosing instead to sniff haughtily and straighten from his slumped position against a cobweb-ridden wall.

"I overheard Alison talking. Sounded like Fanny went ballistic on you. That true?"

The Captain cleared his throat, fighting the urge to shrug petulantly. "Can't complain. Fanny is known for her hysterics after all, I'm sure she'll be right as rain tomorrow." He fixed his gaze pointedly on the small window, just a grimy slit that let in only a slither of light.

"She upset you though." Humphrey murmured. "It doesn't matter if she was in a bad mood about Mary or something else entirely. We're all grieving."

"It's no matter. I won't punish her for feeling...how she feels, and I'm sure Alison has dealt with the situation. It's all water under the bridge, as they say."

Humphrey chuckled scathingly from his position on the floor. The Captain couldn't help the sudden pang of sympathy that shot through him. It must be a miserable existence being so helpless, particularly since Humphrey's place in the house was entirely down the whims of his ghostly companions. Companions which, it had to be said, cared very little for his whereabouts on an average day. This past week alone had the Captain seeing more of Humphrey than he had during the entire year, and it had taken Mary moving on for them to finally give a damn.

"You're a bit of a mystery, Captain." Humphrey said matter-of-factly. "You won't punish Fanny for being a prat to you, but you'll punish yourself for, God forbid, acting like a human with emotions."

The Captain pushed himself forcibly away from the window and glared down at Humphrey. "You would have me berate Fanny would you? Ridicule her for being upset and merely expressing it? Unbelievable, sir."

"Yes," Humphrey said simply, "I would. I would go straight back there and explain to her that whilst her grief is understandable, it is not acceptable for her to treat those around her like that. What she said was horrible. But you, Captain, won't do that will you?"

And Humphrey was glaring at him. No, not glaring. He wasn't angry, per se, there wasn't any rage directed at the Captain in his stare. But his gaze was steely. Determined.

"No." Humphrey said, interrupting the Captain even as he opened his mouth to splutter out some denial. "No. Because you're a coward. And you will let them walk all over you time and time again."

"How dare you-"

"Prove me wrong. Go and talk to her right now."

"I don't need to prove myself to you." The Captain seethed. "And I will not cause further upset but going down there and demanding that she apologise."

"See? A spineless little coward. Hardly a leader at all."

"You think I don't know that?!" The Captain barked, the words slipping from mouth before they'd had a chance to register with his brain.

The very air in the room seemed to stand still. There was no sound. No heavy breathing or thundering heart beats or blood boiling. Just deathly silence. The Captain currently towered over Humphrey but in that moment he'd never felt so small.

A bird squawked loudly by the window. And the spell was broken.

The Captain didn't look back as he left the room. Refused to meet Humphrey's eyes as he strode through the door and away down the corridor.

He was fine. Everything was fine. He would check on Fanny and see what Alison was up to. Or maybe Mike. He would not think about Humphrey.

He was fine.

-------

~This is all your own battle to win~

The Captain hadn't been an overly religious man whilst alive. Or at least, no more or less religious than the average person during a war in the nineteen-forties was. But any ideas of religion he may have had were promptly flipped on their head when he found himself staring at his own dead body and being greeted by a host of dead people. And he felt quite certain now that if there was in fact some higher power watching over him, then they must have found an endless source of amusement in making his afterlife as miserable as possible.

It was unbearably ironic that he had found himself wishing fervently a week ago that Humphrey stay within his sight at all time, only to have an argument with Humphrey which left him not wanting to even think about the man, and now being unable to put one foot into a room without bumping into him.

Katherine, wonderful, thoughtful, kind Katherine, had taken it upon herself to include Humphrey far more frequently in goings on around the house. Which only served to put the Captain even more on edge, as the only other person who knew he was on the verge of some major break down was now popping up everywhere he went. It was as though the guilt and sadness over losing Mary had transferred to Humphrey, and the rest of the ghosts had decided now was the time to make up for the years of neglect and forgetfulness by bringing him everywhere.

The Captain was aware on some level that he was being ridiculous. There was no reason for him to feel so awkward around Humphrey. The man had only been speaking the truth after all, and he'd managed to patch things up with Fanny; it was now as though she'd never been rude to him in the first place. In fact, he'd argued with the others on numerous occasions (namely Julian and Thomas) but the disagreements had never lasted longer than a few days, even after a particularly brutal one. It was hard to hold a grudge when you were well aware you were spending eternity with a person.

But for some reason with Humphrey it was different. Maybe it was just because the man was able to see through the walls the Captain put up so easily. Maybe because despite everything, the Captain still didn't know him that well. Being around Humphrey made him feel vulnerable, which wasn't a feeling he was used to. Nor was it one he liked. The only person that had ever come close to Humphrey in that way was Alison, but she didn't inspire quite so much fear. She had so many other things going on in her life, as well as Mike and the ghosts, that being seen by her didn't seem as much of a threat. But with Humphrey the Captain felt like an ant under a magnifying glass. And he couldn't be sure whether Humphrey just wanted a closer look or was trying to set him alight.

"Hullo Cap," Pat proclaimed jovially as he strolled into the kitchen, "you look deep in thought. Anything to report?"

The Captain startled, flexing his swagger stick subconsciously at the sudden intrusion. He hadn't realised his attention had drifted along with the nature of his thoughts. That was becoming an increasingly common occurrence as well. An inability to get Humphrey and his scathing voice out of his head.

"Ah, Patrick- no nothing at all. How about you? The troops behaving themselves?"

"All quiet and orderly!" Pat grinned, throwing in a mock salute for good measure. The Captain quite liked Patrick. He had a good head on his shoulders and they shared similar ideas at times, even if scout leader and army captain weren't exactly comparable in rank. He was, at the very least, much more reliable than the likes of Thomas or Julian, who had egos so large it was a wonder there was any room left in the house.

"Will you be joining us?" Pat continued, oblivious to the Captain's once again wandering thoughts. "Kitty's been asking to play 'Who I Would Haunt If I Could' again. For Humphrey's sake I think mostly, but also to cheer us all up a bit."

Blasted Humphrey.

The Captain was tempted to decline but reluctantly decided against it. He'd missed a few meetings already, which had started back up a couple days ago. He couldn't avoid Humphrey forever, and he didn't want the rest of the group to suspect something was amiss with him.

"Very well. I'll be with you shortly." He nodded curtly and Patrick disappeared with a smile, whistling as he went. The Captain watched him go, an uneasy feeling settling somewhere deep in his stomach. He tutted sharply and it echoed loudly around the otherwise empty room.

"Pull yourself together, man." He muttered to himself, standing to attention and walking briskly in the direction Patrick had gone. It wouldn't do him any good to languish miserably away from the others all day, even if he was hesitant about spending time in the same room as Humphrey. And regardless, Alison had been giving him some worried glances whenever he disappeared off to be on his own, so it was better to convince her that he was okay.

Because he was okay. There was no reason why he shouldn't be.

There was some lively chatter occurring when he finally reached the main living room, and Kitty waved excitedly as he entered, gesturing for him to sit down with the rest of them. Despite all the turmoil the Captain had been feeling during the previous two weeks, Katherine never failed to bring a smile to his face. It was nice to see her smiling again as well, given how tearful she'd been ever since Mary had moved on.

The majority of the group was ensconced on or by the sofa as usual, with the exception of Julian and Robin in their chess seats, and...ah.

Humphrey.

He was idling near the wall, his head and his body reunited for once, looking relaxed and happy. That was becoming a more common occurrence as well, as the rest of the ghosts were making an effort to keep Humphrey in one piece as often as possible. The Captain swallowed, averting his eyes before the man realised he was staring. He didn't seem too annoyed by the Captain's appearance, but maybe he just didn't want to draw the others' attention to their little spat.

Or maybe the Captain was massively overreacting and Humphrey had wiped their conversation from his memory completely. He wasn't quite sure which option he preferred.

"Come along, Captain, don't dither. Kitty here has been waiting ages." Thomas drawled from his slouched yet somehow elegant position on the sofa. "And I would like to have my turn before the clock chimes midnight."

"Yes, yes, alright," the Captain admonished, maneuvering around the chess table to avoid accidentally phasing through it, and taking up position behind the settee next to Fanny, "I'm here now. Whenever you're ready Katherine."

Kitty jumped to her feet and took centre stage as was customary, immediately launching into the latest list of celebrities Alison must have mentioned, and why exactly she'd like to haunt them. It was certainly a far cry better than the previous times they'd played this game, when Kitty had cited that she loved being with them all far too much to pick anyone else. A nice sentiment sure, but not one that was shared by many others in the group.

Kitty finished her list and reasons with a curtsey, smiling brightly as they all clapped politely before sitting back in her seat. The Captain was unsurprised to watch the usual bickering start up again as both Robin and Thomas stood up to have a turn next, devolving immediately into name calling (Thomas) and several physically impossible crude gestures (Robin) whilst Pat desperately tried to placate them.

Ordinarily the Captain would have stepped up to regain some semblance of order, but he found himself unusually apathetic to their arguments, choosing instead to take a step back from proceedings and wait for them to sort it out amongst themselves. He glanced tiredly around the room, only to immediately meet Humphrey's eyes. Humphrey smiled, expression a little unsure and hesitant, but alight with amusement, and he playfully rolled his eyes as if to say what are they like before pushing himself carefully away from the wall and moving to intervene.

The Captain watched, baffled, as Humphrey, along with Patrick, managed to wrangle the situation into something more manageable. Which essentially meant that Fanny was chosen to go next, and Thomas and Robin wouldn't get a turn until everyone else had gone. Spectacularly done, if the Captain said so, and when Humphrey met his gaze once again he nodded his approval.

Humphrey smiled back, relieved this time maybe, eyes twinkling, and the Captain could almost forget that they'd ever been arguing.

-------

~This is your ship and you are the Captain~

The game came to a close once Thomas had declared his list of people he'd rather be haunting to the group. He had, of course, prefaced it with the fact that there was no one he'd rather be with more than Alison, which had the rest of them groaning, and then gone on to name several female celebrities that the Captain didn't have the first clue about. He was pretty sure he recognised the names Kim Wilde and Keira Knightley from somewhere, but other than that he had no idea.

"Alright chaps," Pat announced as they started heading to their various rooms, "remember that tomorrow I will be taking you all through some basic knot tying, and then Julian has volunteered to tell us some more stories about his time in office!"

The Captain made a mental note to distract Kitty with something before it was Julian's turn to speak. She was no doubt used to him by now but that didn't mean she should be exposed to anymore of his scandalous tales. And the Captain wasn't entirely sure he would be able to deal with them either. Julian had a certain way with words, managing to twist even the simplest of things into one big innuendo that left the Captain a little hot under the collar. Better to escape with Katherine whilst they could.

"Oh, and Humphrey!" Patrick was saying as the others disappeared through their respective walls. "If you have any ideas feel free to chip in. It'd be nice for some fresh new stories if you're up for it!"

Humphrey winked cheekily. "I'm sure I could drum up something interesting. I did meet Henry the Eighth after all." His slid his focus over to the Captain and raised an eyebrow. "Mind if I have a word, Captain? Before you go?"

"Er- yes of course." The Captain cleared his throat and nodded a little stiffly. "See in you the morning, Pat."

Patrick bid them goodnight with a little wave and then vanished, leaving Humphrey and the Captain alone.

"Take a seat, Captain, and I'll see if I can get over there without wobbling off."

"Are you sure? I could help you if you need."

"No no, that's alright." Humphrey waved him off, gesturing for him to sit down which he did a little hesitantly. "I need to get used to moving around on my own. It's been a while since I've done it so I'm a bit rusty, but its just like riding a bike I'm sure. Balance is key."

The Captain couldn't help a wince at that. He was well aware why Humphrey wasn't used to being in one piece, and it was mainly the fault of himself and the others who had often times lacked the patience to find Humphrey's body. Or, as a matter of fact, his head. Humphrey didn't appear particularly put out about it though, seemingly his usual cheerful self.

"Aaand voila!" Humphrey declared, sitting gingerly on the edge of the sofa before letting himself slump against the back of it. "Tedious work this."

"I'm sure you'll be a natural in no time, my dear fellow."

Humphrey shrugged carefully. "I'm not sure if its entirely worth the trouble. It's nice to see something other than shoes but it's a bit of a faff the rest of the time."

Then he turned and gave the Captain one of his looks. The one that the Captain had come to learn meant I've just realised something about you and we're going to chat about it right now which made the Captain want to get up and immediately leave the room. Lord knows how their conversation had gone the last time. And this time was even worse because Humphrey would be able to follow after him, however precarious his situation.

"And am I?" Humphrey asked, unusually reserved. "Your 'dear fellow'? Because if I remember this past week or so correctly, I managed to bollocks up our last conversation spectacularly."

The Captain avoided his pointed stare and focused intently on the chess table instead, gripping his swagger stick tightly in his hands hoping its familiarity would keep him relaxed. It wasn't entirely working.

"You were not...incorrect in what you said. I've come to realise I'm not good at leading the group, whether they want me to or not, and-"

"No," Humphrey interrupted, "shut up, I'm trying to apologise. I was a colossal dickhead and that's all there is to it. I was trying to prove something to you but I was wrong in how I thought you'd react."

"Prove? Prove what?"

Humphrey tugged on his ruffled cuff sleeves a little stiffly and then sighed, seeming to deflate in on himself.

"Emotions, Captain, emotions. This whole thing you've got going on where you pretend Mary's disappearance isn't still affecting you. Because, whilst you might have the others fooled, I am not an idiot and I can tell when you put on a brave face for them." Humphrey brushed a stray curl out of his eyes and the Captain found himself momentarily drawn to the movement. He wasn't used to seeing the man so mobile, so active, with little tics and habits that the Captain was already somehow picking up on.

"Balderdash!" the Captain exclaimed once his brain had caught up with what Humphrey was saying, "I blubbered like some errant schoolboy when Alison held that service for Mary. That was hardly a brave face now was it?"

"It was one day." Humphrey countered. "Two at most. That's not enough time. You know it and I know it. And I've seen how miserable you look when the others aren't paying attention. But then the second they turn around or come into the room you act all...stiff upper lip, if you know what I'm saying. Those walls go right back up and I just-" Humphrey paused, clearly weighing his words. The Captain didn't know what to think. He wasn't used to Humphrey parsing his words like this. Oh no. Typically the opposite, as his fellow ghost usually had no problem speaking his mind, refusing to beat around the bush and instead just telling it how it was.

The Captain felt a little like that spinning toy he'd seen Michael using around the house. A fidget spinner, Alison had called it, as the Captain had watched Mike launch it expertly from finger to finger.

Yes, that seemed about right. He'd been bounced and spun and dropped clumsily on the floor, ever since he'd picked Humphrey up and taken him to the foyer to break the news. A few weeks after he'd got it, Mike had spun the toy too violently and it had skipped off his thumb and veered into a wall, damaging the toy irreparably. The Captain couldn't help but hope that Humphrey would stop him spinning out of control.

"I want to see if I can bring those walls down, just a little. I mean," Humphrey chuckled, rubbing a hand awkwardly against the stubble on his chin, "you do anger pretty well. And I've seen you happy about things, even if is usually tanks. But you need to let yourself be sad once in a while, yeah?"

It's not an...unreasonable suggestion.

Obviously it would be difficult. There was a lot of stigma around mental health when the Captain was alive. He remembered only too well being shaken by his father at the age of thirteen for crying after breaking his arm. Only girls and babies cry son, his father had said in that rough, disappointed voice of his, you better learn to man up soon. The war was a little different, but only if you were actually on the front line. Those men, the ones actively risking their lives, were allowed to cry. To scream and weep and beg. Because they were fighting for their country. Because they were laying down their lives honourably.

But the Captain in charge of the squad stationed at Button House? He was not allowed to cry. What reason did he have? He was not in the midst of a battle, watching his friends being shot, feeling blood pour down the side of his face from stray debris. No, he was in a cozy house, in a cozy armchair, with a cozy fire, and a cozy cup of tea. There was no need to tears here. Not from any of the men, regardless of how many letters they received regarding dead family members and bombed childhood homes.

They had not done enough to earn their tears.

It was hard to break out of that mindset. Even though the Captain knew better now. Alison had told him all about the patriarchy after all, and toxic masculinity, and the importance of sharing your feelings instead of bottling it all up. The Captain understood these things because he wasn't stupid and he knew the world had changed significantly. But whilst half of him was fully present and aware of the modern world and its brand new perspectives, the other half was still firmly wedged in the forties.

"Let me think it over." He heard himself say.

"Of course." Humphrey said, patting the Captain on the back and then getting carefully to his feet. "All the time you need."

And then the Captain was alone.

He stared into the floor. Unfocused. Thinking about Mary. About the war.

Sitting in a big house and an unfamiliar room reading his own letters about dead family members and a childhood home that was now rubble. Stifling the sobs because no one could know. Because he would get up in the morning and be a leader to his men. And he would pretend he was fine because he wasn't allowed to be anything else.

But maybe now. Maybe with Humphrey, he could be.

-------

~Cause you're popping the cork, You get lost in your brain~

It was a pleasant morning. A gentle breeze that softened what otherwise might have been an uncomfortable heat. White fluffy clouds floated lazily above the Captain's head as he stared out over the lake. He was reminded, for a moment, of that perfect day he'd spent with Kitty a month or so ago. When he'd laid down on the grass, stiff as a board, and watched her point excitedly to the numerous teddy bears, swans, parasols, and cakes, that took form before their eyes. And the absolute glee on her face when he'd finally given in and joined her cloud song with a pitiful ~and that one is a gun~. Pitiful, perhaps, but Kitty had beamed more brightly than the sun he was shielding his eyes from, and the Captain had felt so overwhelming fond of her.

He'd never considered children, mostly because he knew he'd never be married, and Katherine was far too old (older than him even) to need a father figure. But she still managed to bring out some buried parental instincts.

It had been three weeks since Mary was sucked off. Two since his argument with both Fanny and then Humphrey. One since Humphrey's offer to... help him out with expressing sadness. Something along those lines. He understood in theory that all he'd have to do was talk. Talk to Humphrey about his feelings. It wasn't exactly a profound concept in the modern age. In fact, the Captain was fairly sure that both Alison and Mike had gone to therapy for various reasons in the past.

But doing it for himself? With someone who he might consider a friend? That made convincing himself a little more difficult.

He wasn't sure he'd ever trusted someone like that before. Maybe he could have with Havers, but he'd never know for sure. That was a daydream; bittersweet and distant. This was something happening now. And it would be nice to trust a friend.

"Hi, Captain, you alright?" Alison appeared over his shoulder, wrapped in a coat, nose and cheeks pink as the wind had picked up, spreading a chill through the air.

"Perfectly, thank you." He noticed Mike emerge from the house and unlock the car, juggling what looked to be about five normal bags and a sixth in the shape of a highland cow. "Are you and Michael heading out?"

"Yup, bit of a last minute shopping spree. And Mike found this big box of books we meant to get rid of ages ago so we're gonna see if a charity shop will take them." She bit her lip and glanced back at the house. "I've distracted the others with telly so you can stay out a bit longer if you'd like? Pat can take care of any problems."

The Captain felt the tension bleed out of his shoulders almost subconsciously. He was feeling a little maudlin and raw today, and he wasn't quite sure why, but he didn't think he was ready to deal with the others yet. Maybe in an hour or so. Alison must have noticed his relief because she smiled wryly and brushed invisible dirt off her jacket.

"You don't have to wait for someone else to notice, you know? I think you all need a break from each other now and then, there's no shame in letting them know if you want some space."

"Yes," the Captain muttered, "so I've heard." Then he turned to her properly and gestured pointedly with his swagger stick at the car. "Now don't keep young Michael waiting, you hear? Go enjoy fresh air somewhere else."

"Sir yes sir." Alison groused, but disappeared back up the drive all the same with a backwards wave. The Captain watched until the car was out of sight before turning back to the lake. It still reflected the early morning sun beautifully, but the current had strengthened as the wind picked up, and water was now sloshing more forcefully against the bank. Maybe not ideal weather for a shopping trip but the Captain didn't think Alison or Mike would mind particularly. They rarely had a chance to get away from the house, and although he knew Alison loved them like a family, he also knew they could all be a bit much.

After all, he was hiding outside rather than joining in on whichever programme Alison had chosen. No matter. A few more minutes and he would head in.

A sudden shout broke through the tranquility of the moment and the Captain's head jerked round to look at the house. He couldn't see anyone, but the abrupt noise was followed quickly by loud bursts of laughter echoing out through an open window near the top of the house. The Captain considered his surroundings for a second or two, and then pushed himself in the direction of the front door. Maybe he could cut his outdoor pursuits early. He wouldn't mind some fun, after all, even if he did just watch their antics from the sidelines.

He navigated his way through the house, following the sounds of laughter and scattered conversation, until he reached what had been dubbed as the 'television room' because there were a frankly obscene number of rooms in the manor. Why not have one for the sole purpose of watching television.

Robin spotted him first when he entered and grunted a greeting, clearly too distracted by the programme to give it more than a token effort. Even Kitty barely glanced at him, sparing a moment to smile broadly in his direction, and then immediately pinning her focus back on the television. The Captain eyed the screen but the people weren't recognisable (they sounded american and looked to be in some sort of police station) so instead he surveyed the room, searching for somewhere to sit.

His eyes alighted on Humphrey (just his head it seemed) lying down on a chair near the edge of the room. There was a spare next to him so after a brief hesitation, the Captain walked purposefully towards it and sat, greeting Humphrey with a small nod as he did so.

They'd stopped avoiding each other, but the Captain had yet to address their last conversation. Humphrey was also, unsurprisingly, a man of his word, and was giving the Captain time to think things over, not even alluding to the suggestion he'd made and instead carrying on as usual. Exchanging cutting jabs with Julian, swapping stories with Pat, and even managing to be cordial with Fanny, despite the awkwardness that had lingered between them ever since she'd...courted (?) his body.

"Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves." The Captain commented, glancing briefly at the screen again. "What are we watching?"

"Eh- some cop show Alison found on Netflix. It's quite funny, though I've not been paying much attention to the plot." Humphrey squinted at the screen and raised an eyebrow. "Actually, I'm not sure if there is a plot. Good though. Look, even Fanny's enjoying it."

Fanny did seem to be enjoying it, although that may have been primarily because of the man with big muscles and scandalously tight shirts. The Captain found his own eyes drawn to what appeared to be the lead character; a very attractive man with subtle curls, a sarcastic wit about him, and a similar laidback demeanor to Humphrey. He couldn't help the wry smile that crossed his lips, even if the humour was very American.

"Ooh hello~ the Captain's smiling. Maybe you'll give us a laugh next, eh?"

"You know very well that I laugh." The Captain grumbled. "Patrick spent an entire day last year trying to prove it."

"Ahh yes. And if I'm remembering correctly, you spent the entire day trying to convince him that your sense of humour was too refined for silly jokes, only to laugh at a joke some lady made about my very own beheading!"

The Captain did remember that. He felt a little guilty as he was sure it wasn't a pleasant memory for Humphrey by any means, but the man was smirking next to him, so clearly he wasn't still cut up about it.

"You have to admit, it was rather funny.

"Yeah yeah- a comedy of errors, I'm sure." Humphrey snarked, but his lips still twitched into a smile. "Now shut up, I'm watching the telly." The Captain bit back a grin, and releaxed slightly into his seat. Robin cackled boisterously from his position on the floor at some inane slapstick moment, which had him slapping at Julian's knee between bouts of riotous laughter. Thomas started muttering half finished lines of poetry under his breath whenever the 'Lady in Black' appeared on screen, as he'd had taken to calling her. Humphrey snorted at that and just referred to her as a 'badass' which Thomas was now whispering fervently into his hands.

It was, the Captain thought, a pleasant day. A very good day.

-------

~And lose touch with all the things that made you feel sane~

Eventually the Captain was able to convince the others they should leave the rest of the episodes for another day, rather than rushing through them all at once, backed up (surprisingly) by Julian, who merely switched off the television when the others started to complain. Thomas seemed to lament the loss for a moment, but immediately engaged Patrick in a discussion about the characters as they left the room, Kitty and Fanny trailing behind. Robin and Julian followed soon after, already deep in quiet conversation about one thing or another, until once again, the Captain found himself alone in a room with Humphrey.

He might have thought the others were planning it deliberately, if he wasn't so sure of their inability to be subtle. No. If that was the case then Katherine would have no doubt given the game away days ago.

"Would you like your body, old chap?" The Captain asked, getting to his feet with a muffled groan. Dying with joint pains was not all it was cracked up to be, and had so far resulted in a certain level of stiffness in his bones that grew worse in the cold.

"Nah, I'm alright. He seems to have a mind of his own these days," Humphrey said, then paused and frowned, "and that's probably the most ironic thing anyone has ever said."

The Captain scoffed but picked up Humphrey all the same, tucking his swagger stick under his arm to avoid dropping him. It couldn't exactly be easy for the man, considering how much mandhandling he'd recieved over the years. Especially when Thomas had used him as nothing more than a football. The Captain winced. Yes, that must have been quite unpleasant.

"Actually, Humphrey, if you aren't busy I think I'd like to talk to you about that er- that thing. That thing you said before."

Humphrey's eyes widened almost comically and he cleared his throat.

"Right, yeah. The thing. You sure? No rush, like I said-"

"Yes, yes, I'm- I'm sure."

"Er- right, private conversation so we should probably..." Humphrey clicked his tongue and then gestured with his eyebrows (a feat in itself) towards the door, "we can either talk in here or- well maybe your room would be better?"

The Captain subconciously tightened his grip on Humphrey, mindful enough not hurt him, but still feeling a little thrown. Nobody had been in his room. Not since he'd swapped with Fanny, anyway, and that was ages ago. There was no reason why it should feel like an invasion of privacy, it wasn't as though he was able to decorate his room and therefore worried about being judged for his choice in wallpaper. But for some reason...

"Very well." He heard himself blurt out. And then "Come along." as if Humphrey had any choice in the matter. Humphrey didn't comment which was probably for the best, as the Captain was far too focused on not throwing him out the nearest window and making a break for it, to attempt any kind of witty back and forth.

The walk to his room felt as though it took simultaneously one hundred years and less than a second. In that time he'd managed to list all the ways in which sharing any of his feelings with Humphrey was a bad idea, and then created a separate list of ways Humphrey could betray his trust. Neither list was helping him relax in the slightest.

"Ooh- very chic." Humphrey said, completely oblivious to the Captain's internal dilemma. "I love what you've done with the place."

A cobweb floated down from the ceiling with a delicate flutter and landed near the Captain's feet.

"Like I said," Humphrey continued, having tracked the cobweb's trajectory as it fell, "very chic."

The Captain walked into the room, movements jerky, like he'd never even seen the room before, never mind slept in it. Humphrey clearly noticed, as he smiled, uncharacteristically soft, when the Captain propped him carefully against a pillow and cleared his throat.

"Hey. We don't have to do this, you know? If you want we can do something else. I know where Mike keeps his laptop, we'd just need to get Julian and-"

"No, Humphrey, it's fine really. I want to do this. I- I think it might help. I'm just-" the Captain sighed heavily and slumped in on himself slightly as he sat down, "I don't know how to do this."

"I believe it will be easier than you think."

The Captain looked up, eyebrows raised cynically. He wasn't a fool. He knew he was notoriously difficult to talk to at times, particularly when he was uncomfortable with the topic at hand. He was a spring coiled so tightly even he wasn't sure how to unwind anymore. But here Humphrey was, as nonchalant as ever about it all.

"Look at it this way." Humphrey said, and the Captain was sure that if he had his body he'd no doubt he fiddling with his hands. "We already know it's not all emotion you have difficulty with. You are very good at getting pissed off with the others, and as you said earlier, you smile and laugh in front of us. So we just need to get your brain to understand you can be sad with us too."

"Its absurd," The Captain groused, "that I should need to sob before you all in order to be taken seriously. I am a private man, after all."

"No, you're a Captain, Captain." Humphrey quipped, and then grinned at the answering scoff. "But thats not the point. The point is-well alright, take Pat for example."

"Pat?"

"He's manly wouldn't you say?" Humphrey asked, wiggling his eyebrows for good measure. "Maybe not quite the overly masculine army type but still."

The Captain pondered it for a moment. Patrick wasn't necessarily his idea of a typical man, certainly not the kind of man you were expected to be back in the forties, but he was incredibly knowledgeable about surival in the outdoors, a good leader and firm when he needed to be. That leaned towards the more stereotypical view of men, although the Captain was also well aware that this mindset was beginning to die out in the modern age.

"I suppose so, yes."

"But he's also quite free with his feelings isn't he? Just the other day he was tearing up over the end of Marley and Me."

"Ridiculous." The Captain muttered, ignoring the fact that he'd also felt quite close to tears by the time the credits were rolling. He just had the good sense not to broadcast his feelings to rest of the group.

"Healthy." Humphrey countered.  "And that film is sad so I don't believe for one second you weren't on the verge of sobbing your eyes out." The Captain made that little hemming and hawing noise they both knew meant Humphrey was right and the Captain was pretending he wasn't. "But seriously, Cap, when did you last cry? And the day Mary got sucked off doesn't count."

The Captain tutted petulantly and looked down at the bedspread in some desperate attempt to avoid Humphrey's piercing stare. There was a thin layer of dust covering the duvet, which was unsurprising as Alison wasn't in the habit of regularly changing bedding that didn't get used by living people. The Captain didn't particularly mind, it wasn't as though dust could affect him anymore.

"I can't remember something like that." He said finally. "That wedding maybe, with those two girls? Or when Kitty told us about her horrid sister."

Humphrey stared at him thoughtfully, opening his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of his body bumbling into the room.

"Oh hello, miss me already did you?"

His body did not reply (for obvious reasons) and shuffled clumsily towards the bed, arms outstretched as it bumped into both a chair and the bed posts before the Captain took pity and forced it to sit on the bed next to Humphrey.

"Not much for coordination is he?" Humphrey sighed, rolling his eyes at the rather rude gesture the body shot back at him. "See, no manners."

"Do you want er-" the Captain gestured vaguely between the pair of them but Humphrey cut him off with what was probably meant to be a head shake.

"Nope, we're all good. Now stop avoiding the matter at hand."

The Captain rubbed a tired hand over his face.

"What do you want me to say?"

Humphrey was quiet for a moment, and the Captain was sure he could see the cogs whirring behind his eyes. And then, "Tell me," Humphrey said, voice soft and low, "tell me about Mary. Anything at all."

The Captain eyed him curiously for a moment, feeling suddenly adrift and uncertain where to begin. It was as though anything he'd ever known about her was slipping sideways from his brain, and he felt like he was scrambling to keep it all in place.

"She- well she was completely mad, for starters." The Captain blurted at Humphrey's impatient tutting when he'd been thinking too long. "Utterly so. It was always the Devil this, and witchcraft that. Terrible at hide and seek as well if I recall, I don't think she could count past thirty. Not a brilliant dancer either, although, I don't suppose any of us are really."

Humphrey snorted but smiled encouragingly.

"Incapable of the Queen's English as well, of course, and scared of every little thing under the sun. Lord alone knows how many times Patrick tried to explain something technological to her. No, no, it was just baskets and cows. That was the limit." Then the Captain paused and looked away, out the window at the garden view he'd managed to bagsy all those months ago.

"She was infuriating to talk to, and came up with some of the most outrageous nicknames I've ever heard. And-" he cleared his throat sharply, "and I miss her. All the time."

The Captain felt itchy in his own skin, swamped suddenly by feelings he didn't understand and didn't have a name for. An overwhelming, overpowering desire to see Mary again, to listen to her nonsense rambles about potatoes and basket weaving and, God, even cow milking. To see her with his own two eyes and watch her laughing with Robin and Kitty, muttering at the television with Fanny, lecturing Julian and Thomas with surprising levels of insight into their shortcomings, staring blankly at Pat as he talked her through a cassette player for the millionth time, and know that she was okay. Hell, the Captain would do anything if it meant Mary would come back, and he would endure every horrible nickname she could think of if it came to it.

He would trade places in a heartbeat.

"It's not fair!" He snapped, the words climbing up his throat and erupting viciously from within. "We loved Mary. She was bloody annoying, and scared, and funny and we loved her. And we didn't-" his voice caught, the words all crowding together in a sticky jumbled mess. "we- she was just gone. I- there- I couldn't do anything- I turned around and she was already going!"

The Captain leaned forwards, elbows digging into his knees as he scrubbed an agitated hand through his hair and over his face.

"How do I keep us going if...how- anyone could go. Mary is gone and I keep thinking that- I don't want to lose anyone else! But I can't- I have to be the strong one, I have to watch over them, I- if someone goes they can't be alone. They can't-"

Hands brushed along the sleeve of his jacket and gripped his elbow tightly. No, firmly. Deliberate. The Captain heaved in a breath but didn't look up from his hunched over position, palms digging into his eyes to stem the sting of tears he could feel building. He hadn't noticed Humphrey putting himself back together, but evidently he had, as the Captain found himself being tugged into a loose embrace. He stiffened at the contact, unused to feeling of someone else's hands on his back, of fingers rubbing along his spine.

The fingers slowed when he tensed but didn't move away, the arms around his shoulders a sturdy warmth, but not one that pinned him in place. Humphrey was giving him a choice. And it would be all too easy to shrug out of his friend's grip, clear his throat awkwardly, nod his head, and leave the room. He'd done it often enough that it was an automatic reflex, a gut instinct kicking in and telling him to get away before he embarrassed himself. Go, his brain urged, get out of there. And, men don't cry, a voice that sounded eerily like his father scoffed, should've drowned you the minute you were born.

But the Captain was tired. A deep tiredness that had settled into the very fabric of his being. He had no bones are blood or flesh but the tiredness transcended matter itself. The arms around his back squeezed a little tighter. And he sighed heavily, sinking into the sensation. Just this once.

"I was worried," he mumbled into the fabric of Humphrey's sleeve, "when I realised I hadn't seen you in a while. Once we realised you had just been outside it was fine, but I just- I kept thinking what if you were gone? We wouldn't have noticed for hours and that's- well it's awful of us isn't it?"

"Shut up." Humphrey said, sounding almost bored. "You're meant to be releasing your grief and feelings about Mary moving on in a healthy way, not getting stuck on some weird guilt ridden hypotheticals. I'm fine, everyone else is fine, and you will be fine. But right now, you're not fine and that's okay."

The Captain scoffed but it was half hearted, well aware that if he spoke his voice would sound thick with tears.

It was odd, sitting on his bed, head in his hands, whilst someone idly carded a hand through his hair. He wasn't certain whether Humphrey even realised he was doing it, or if it was some reflex, a tiny glimpse into the person he was before death. The gesture was acceptable though. Comforting even, although the Captain squashed that thought down the moment it crossed his mind. It was somehow a familiar sensation and also completely foreign to him. His mother had probably done something similar when he was little, not that he remembered particularly, just the faintest whisper of familiarity in some dusty corner of his brain.

This was different though. It didn't seem quite the same as the hugs Pat went in for, and Lord knew the Captain had witnessed and been unwillingly subjected to his fair share of those. Those were all warmth and laughter and limbs in uncomfortable places and slaps on the back. This was...

The Captain coughed sharply and lifted his head, leaning away from Humphrey as he did so. He scrubbed at his eyes, resolutely ignoring the weight of Humphrey's hand that was still resting on his shoulder, and the eyes he could feel boring into his head. Logically, the Captain knew he should stop things, bid Humphrey farewell. He felt better after all, and he doubted Humphrey wanted to spend the rest of his day dealing with a repressed army Captain in some drab bedroom.

But there was a much louder part of his brain clinging to the feeling of comfort. Of security. Of that hand still on his shoulder.

So he didn't stand and convince Humphrey to leave like he wanted to. But he didn't lean back into the touch either. He sat on his dusty bed in his dusty bedroom and finally peeled his hands away from his face.

Humphrey's gaze was sharp, no doubt focused on the Captain's red rimmed eyes and embarrassing sniffs that seemed far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

"Better?" Humphrey asked softly, trailing a finger down the Captain's arm, nail catching slightly on loose threads and coarse material. The Captain resisted the urge to lie down and sleep the rest of the day away, managing instead to nod jerkily. His tongue felt dry and too big for his mouth, like the salt from his tears had become sand in his throat. He coughed and glanced out of the window. It was hard to see much from his position in the bed, mostly just greying sky, but on the small slither of grass just in view he was fairly sure he could see Robin racing around, excited shouts muffled by glass.

"You know you can't start bottling everything up again, right Captain?"

The Captain made a noncommittal noise, still fixated on the window. Anything to avoid Humphrey's eyes.

"If you get upset or overwhelmed, or you're just feeling generally miserable, you can tell me. I can keep the others off your back and I'll help you through it if you want."

The crunch of tyres on gravel came into earshot, followed by the slam of two car doors and Robin's shouting increasing a few decibels.

"Oi."

A hand grasped the Captain's chin firmly and tilted his attention away from the window and towards Humphrey, who had one eyebrow raised and an unimpressed glare.

"You still listening? We're talking about your emotional wellbeing here."

"I don't recall you being quite so attentive to the others' needs." The Captain snapped, wrenching himself from Humphrey's grip with a scowl. He flushed guiltily immediately, ready to apologise, but Humphrey barely appeared fazed.

"That's not the same thing and you know its not."

Which was true, although the Captain wasn't about to give Humphrey that particular satisfaction. Then he frowned.

"What about Fanny? She's hardly an open book now is she?"

Humphrey scoffed and stepped backwards a few steps, stretching his arms out lazily as he did so. The Captain ignored the stupid part of his brain that was still itching for physical contact. It was ridiculous to want Humphrey so close. He'd managed just fine without consistent contact over the last few decades, there was no reason to start yearning for it now.

"Yes, well, I'm not exactly Fanny's biggest fan at the moment. She was a prat to you. And it was a bit hypocritical of her to call you a heartless bastard when she's just as bad."

"Surely you're not still angry at her for that comment she made to me?" The Captain asked in astonishment. "That was weeks ago!"

"She upset you." Humphrey said, as if that was the only explanation needed. As if it was obvious. The Captain wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake. Wanted to ask but why do you care? He didn't, mostly because he didn't think Humphrey's head would stay in tact during the onslaught.

"Also she er- courted my body without my permission for a good few days so yeah, guess I'm still a bit pissed off about that."

"You're absurd."

"I know," Humphrey wiggled his eyebrows, "exciting isn't it?"

Alison's voice drifted up the stairs from the foyer, already in conversation with someone as the front door closed behind her and Mike. The Captain eyed the doorway nervously. There was no reason for Alison to come looking for him (lord knows she had yelled at them enough to know her voice carried a considerable distance around the house) but that nervousness he'd felt when he arrived with Humphrey had returned in full force. It was one thing airing out some of his turmoil with a friend in the privacy of his room, it was quite another to be vulnerable with someone who could only devote so much of her time to him. Alison was great, obviously, but she was always stretched just a little too thin.

Humphrey must have recognised a certain twitchiness about him, as he held his hand out to help the Captain up.

"Come along, Cap, back into the fray. And talk to me if you need to, no reason is too stupid." He winked, thankfully turning away before he could see the Captain erupting into a patchwork of beetroot red. Not a drop of blood in his ghostly body and yet he was still cursed to blush like some young filly.

"Oh, and," Humphrey started, turning around just as he reached the door, "you're not a coward. I've never thought of you as one, but I'm sorry for calling you one anyway." He squeezed the Captain's arm and then disappeared through the doorway and down the corridor. The Captain stood alone in his room for a moment, fixated on the spot Humphrey had just vacated, mind running a mile a minute.

A sudden burst of noise sounded from downstairs, a loud clatter that reverberated around the house. Thomas yelled something incoherent and in a matter of seconds there was all manner of raised voices from what sounded like the living room, all jumbled and talking over each other. The Captain sighed, straightened his uniform deftly and steeled himself for whatever sight would greet when he arrived.

Back into the fray indeed.

-------

~Pick your brain apart and put it in~

It struck the Captain as odd that something so momentous could happen, something so incredibly earth shattering, and nothing changed at all. He'd allowed himself to get close with someone, to share his feelings, to feel for the first time in...well. Ever. And outside of his own head, the world was unaffected. There were only so many ripples you could create as a ghost, unable to interact with the living as they were, and Julian probably created the most significant ones considering the stint with Alison and the window. But not the Captain. His ripples were solely contained in their own personal bubble, a broiling sea that tossed him around but was barely a drop on anyone else.

Humphrey, however, was well an truly in the splash zone.

Outwardly things were the same. Arguments, club days, telly afternoons, watching Alison and Mike embark on their newest endeavour. But little moments, nothing noticeable by the others, but just enough for the Captain to recognise that things weren't quite the same.

Accidental eye contact with Humphrey, followed by a quick smile, nothing more than a twitch of the lips, but so warm and overwhelming saccharine that the Captain felt as though he could choke on the air. It was nonsensical. There was no logical reason for him to act like such a damn fool; Humphrey obviously had no qualms with emotional vulnerability, he just continued on as normal.

They were friends, he reminded himself sharply on more than one occasion, just friends. This was what friendship was. His absurd brain had no experience with a close platonic relationship, so it was no wonder he found himself struggling with the concept of someone looking out for him, catching his eye, pulling faces to make him crack a smile, or absentmindedly leaning into his space during group activities.

It was...a lot.

And it wasn't as though Humphrey was overly big on physical contact, just the casual touch here and there, but the Captain hadn't experienced anything like it in years, so the sudden introduction of random, innocuous, limbs brushing against his own had sent him reeling.

"Ah, Captain, there you are. Now, Alison is probably in a bad mood so she may appear a little...tense. Not my fault, obviously, but maybe don't tell her you've seen me today."

"Hmm?" The Captain asked, looking away from the window he'd been staring out of for...well probably too long, and glanced over to see Julian in the doorway to the library. "Ah, Julian, sorry I didn't hear you come in. What were you saying?"

"Oh, nothing, don't worry." Julian reassured, backing towards the nearest wall at the sound of quick footsteps down the hallway. "I was never here."

Julian disappeared from view just as the library door slammed open (the Captain winced at that, it was no way to treat such an old house) to reveal Alison, stony faced and covered in what may have been cake batter.

"Julian." She hissed through gritted teeth. "Where?"

The Captain took one look at her, bits of gloop dripping off her apron and clothes onto the floor, and pointed apologetically with his swagger stick at the wall Julian had just escaped through.

"You just missed him, I'm afraid." He explained, taking one tiny step backwards, because, although he was non-corporeal, Alison managed to be threatening even with the knowledge she couldn't touch him. "Are you...alright?"

"Oh I will be," She seethed, turning on her heel and heading back the way she'd come, "just as soon as I've figured out how to get rid of a certain Tory twat that insists on making my life a LIVING HELL!"

The Captain dithered in the library for a moment before following quickly after her. He thought it unlikely that she'd actually manage to find something that would get rid of Julian, but decided it might be wise to stick around just in case. A distraction maybe?

"You're baking?" He asked, striding down the corridors behind her, glancing around subtly for a mop of irritable blonde hair.

"Trying to." Alison sighed, slowing her steps as they neared the kitchen. "You may as well take a look, the surprise is pretty much ruined anyway."

"Surprise?"

He rounded the corner just in time to see Alison swing the kitchen door open, revealing a mess unlike any he'd ever seen before. Flour all over the counters, measuring equipment scattered across the big main table, several bowls containing what looked to be the same sort of batter currently covering Alison's apron, and a recipe book half submerged under a pile of ingredients. But all of that paled in comparison to the thing that finally caught his eye.

It was a cake. Probably, anyway. It was hard to tell considering it looked as though it had been left to bake on the surface of the sun, used in a particularly vicious game of frisbee, and then had several anvils dropped on top of it. A sad misshapen thing, all lumps and crumbly bits, next to a bowl of icing that looked like it's only use would be as cement mix. Actually, the Captain thought, if anything could banish Julian from the house this would probably be it.

"I'm not a baker," Alison said, slumping down into the only vaguely clean chair, "obviously, but Pat said he'd give me a hand- well advice at least, and Fanny was actually quite helpful too. But then Julian started pestering me so the first one burned, and I'm currently wearing the second attempt to you can see how well that went."

The Captain hummed in recognition and surveyed the wreckage once again. "What was the occasion? Something for Michael?"

"Huh? No, its was meant to be a surprise for you. The cake is mostly symbolic." The Captain froze, then turned to face her properly, a frown on his face. "It's your birthday, right?" She continued obliviously. "I found some old documents in the basement, the plague ghosts say hi by the way, and whilst there wasn't any mention of your name- so your secrets are safe for now- it did have a list of all the birthdays of the soldiers stationed here."

She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled put a yellowed slip of paper, warped with age but smudged writing still visible on the page. In fact, the Captain was fairly sure that...

Yes. It was his writing.

"I assume you wrote this because everyone else's names are in here full and you've just got 'Captain' near the bottom there." Alison said, tapping the bottom section of the page and laying it down flat on the table so the Captain could see it properly.

And there it was. His birthday scrawled in handwriting he barely recognised as him own. Crammed in along the last line, as though it was an afterthought. He didn't remember writing the list, but he recognised the other names. Men in his squad, stationed with him at Button House whilst they waited out the war. Men with blurred faces and fuzzy voices that drifted in the back of his mind just out of reach. All except for Havers of course. But the Captain had known he wouldn't forget a man like Havers from the moment he first laid eyes on him, he just hadn't realised quite how true that would turn out to be.

"Oh, Pat, he's already here, look."

The Captain managed to tear his eyes away from the paper in time to see Kitty arrive, followed closely by Patrick and...ah. Everyone else.

"I didn't know it was your birthday today, Captain, but it's okay because Alison said we could celebrate it anyway." Kitty said, already chatting away happily as everyone gathered around the table. "It was supposed to be like these parties Alison told me about, where people all hide and then jump out when the birthday person comes into the room to surprise them. But then Pat wasn't sure if you'd like surprises that much, and the cake got all burned, and then Julian distracted Alison so um-" she trailed off and looked around at the others for guidance.

"So, Happy Birthday!" Pat cheered, glaring meaningfully at the others when they didn't immediately start clapping (Humphrey, who was merely a head, glared back in equal force) "I know it's been a while since we celebrated anyone's birthday but we figured since its our first time celebrating yours we might as well make a thing of it!"

The Captain cleared his throat, eyes flicking around the table but not wanting to make direct eye contact with any of them for too long, uncomfortable and overwhelmed by the sudden attention. "Well I- er- it's much appreciated. Thank you, everyone. But to be frank I hadn't remembered either." "It's a surprise after all then!" Kitty beamed, bounding forwards to wrap the Captain in an unexpected hug that had him tensing up the moment they made contact. She didn't appear to notice, fortunately enough, already deep in explanation about all the decorations they'd put up in the living room. And they certainly had. It wasn't an exorbitant display by any means (Alison and Mike didn't exactly have the budget for frivolous decor at a ghost party), but there were balloons and bunting hanging from the walls and ceiling, and a disco ball that the Captain was fairly sure he remembered seeing during the house party Alison and Mike had held a couple years earlier.

It was...unimaginable that he had people in his life (death) that would go to such lengths for him. That would go out of their way to prepare a celebration like this.

"Muzic!" Robin demanded immediately. "Wanna dance!"

"Oh, right." Alison nodded and darted over to a small side table where a speaker type device was set up. "I promised Robin and Kitty some dancing if that's okay, Captain. You don't have to join in if you don't want to though. Just relax, have fun, I'll be upstairs for a bit if any of you need me. And Julian-?" She turned and pointed her finger near his face, just shy of actually phasing through him. "Cause any problems and I'll be dealing with you personally."

Julian opened his mouth, no doubt to come back with some witty retort, but cut himself off when Robin elbowed him in the side.

"Ow-yes Alison."

"Good."

She switched the speaker on before disappearing out the room, pausing briefly to wave at the Captain as she went. A low beat began to reverberate through the floor, followed by the crooning voice of some singer the Captain didn't recognise starting up. Robin was clearly more knowledgeable than him, as he cheered loudly and grabbed Julian's arm, dragging him onto what had become a dance floor.

Kitty and Patrick were already laying down some moves, many of which the Captain thought he recognised from the performance the pair of them had done a few months ago, and Thomas was stood off to the side unsuccessfully convincing Fanny to join in. The Captain snorted at that, turning to hide his face before anyone noticed. There was more chance of Robin waking up one day and being able to speak in perfect English than there was of ever convincing Fanny to dance in such a way.

"Enjoying yourself, Cap?"

The Captain absolutely did not jump about a foot in the air at the unexpected appearance of Humphrey by his side.

"Good God, man, you startled me!" He exclaimed, trying to rein in the sudden adrenaline rush coursing through him. "Must you do that?"

"Dreadfully sorry," Humphrey said with a grin, "I'll be sure to let you know the next time I plan on scaring the pants off you."

The Captain didn't bother dignifying that with a response, eye already caught by Julian attempting to do a dance he thought was called 'the worm'. Regardless, it was definitely not the kind of dance someone without trousers should be attempting.

His thoughts wandered once more to decorations that adorned the room. He felt almost...guilty to see them. Appreciative, of course, overwhelmed by the generosity of the group. And whilst he understood that they no doubt wanted an excuse to party, if only for a little while, he was still baffled that they'd care enough. Especially since...

"Gotta say, Captain, you're good at keeping secrets. I mean, I'm good at reading you most of the time but this birthday thing was a surprise." Humphrey said, gesturing offhandedly around the room. "Although I hope you realise this is setting a precedent, at least for next year. This isn't gonna outdo my own birthday bash, and I imagine Kitty will be planning hers already."

Judging by the gleam in her eye and the fact that she was whispering under her breath about a chocolate fountain, the Captain didn't doubt it for a moment. But in fairness he couldn't remember the last time they'd actually celebrated someone's birthday. It hadn't been much a thing until Pat showed up, and even then the glamour of it dwindled after the first few years. But now that they had Alison? A living person they could interact with? Someone who could make stuff happen? It opened up a whole new avenue for celebrations.

"Say, Humphrey, when- when exactly is your birthday?"

"You don't know?" Humphrey asked, voice tinged with faux sadness, "I'm crushed." And even though the Captain knew, he knew, that Humphrey was joking, he still felt that silly little jolt of guilt down his spine. He pushed it away. There was no need to feel remorseful. Humphrey certainly would think it a waste of time, especially now that things had changed. The guilt was not so easily reasoned with.

"Thirteenth of September. That's me. Unlucky, as my mum used to say," Humphrey continued, "and I suppose she wasn't wrong, eh? Married a girl I couldn't talk to because I don't speak a lick of french, got caught up in her secret plots, decapitated, and then tada here I am."

He grinned then, illuminated with a backdrop of sun and grass and blue sky through a window just behind him, and tilted his head towards the Captain, all laidback and free.

"All that bad luck and yet somehow I'm the luckiest bastard of my lot. Wanna know how?" The Captain nodded tightly, a little thrown by the sudden shift in conversation, and watched warily as Humphrey leaned forwards conspiratorially into his space with casual ease. Hand on his arm, smile on his lips, whispering lowly into the Captain's ear.

"I get to be here. With you."

With you.

And then the warmth was gone, and Humphrey was standing in his original spot, a perfectly socially acceptable amount of space between them. Too much space. Not enough.

"Humphrey! Come here will you?" Thomas called. His voice sounded distant to the Captain, as though he was submerged under water miles and miles away from anyone. Then he surfaced and the noise was a rushing waterfall that surrounded him in one loud barrage of noise. "Pat was telling me about 'Piggy in the middle' and we need a ball. You don't mind do you?"

"Oh alright, but go easy on me! You've got bony limbs, Thorne, and I don't fancy an elbow to the eye thank you very much."

Then Humphrey vanished from his side, body discarded into a chair as his head was tossed into the fray. The Captain watched him go. His head felt full of cotton wool. Packed in so tightly. So full of thoughts about Humphrey. Humphrey, leaning in close. Murmuring into his ear. A lightest touch on his arm. Warm sunny smiles. Eyes bright with laughter.

"I get to be here. With you."

Humphrey caught the Captain's gaze as he was passed between Pat and Thomas and rolled his eyes theatrically. Then he smiled.

And the sun outside, sun that bathed the house in precious golden light, paled in comparison.

I get to be here with you.

With you with you with you.

-------

~But nothing can touch your happy thoughts anymore~

The party started winding down around 8pm, mostly because there was only so much dancing you could without the entertainment of drunk living people and their shenanigans before the boredom set in. Also because it was Alison's world and they were just haunting it, so she arrived back downstairs to shut the music off (when it was made apparent that Julian was in an unhelpful mood) and sent them all on their way.

For the majority of them that meant wandering aimlessly around the house and grounds looking for something to entertain themselves with.

Thomas vanished into the library, spouting some gibberish about poetry that the Captain mostly tuned out, whilst Fanny and Pat ambled away, already in their own little world discussing baking. Julian and Robin (because they were joined at the hip more often than not) settled in for a game of chess, which left Kitty and the Captain to their own devices.

Humphrey had done the thing he did best and disappeared whilst no one was looking. The Captain felt that clench of worry, mind already spiralling into worst case scenarios featuring a Mary-esque departure, but Kitty managed to ease his mind without even realising, mentioning in passing that Humphrey was visiting the plague ghosts. As considerate as always of course.

Which was how found himself outside with Katherine, cool wind ruffling through his non-corporeal form in a slightly unpleasant manner, but one he'd grown used to over the decades. The sun had sunk below the horizon, making way for thick cloud that hugged the sky and cast a shadow over the house. It would rain, the Captain was quite sure of it and he said as much to Kitty.

"You're so clever." She remarked, and from anyone else it might have sounded sarcastic but from her it sounded like fact. As if him being anything else was completely unimaginable. "I wish I was like you a bit more. Do you know if there'll be a rainbow this week at all?"

The Captain smiled to himself. Katherine could be infuriating at times in the way she drifted through death naively, always a beacon of positivity even when perhaps it wasn't wanted. But she'd been through her own trials and hardships, moreso than maybe the Captain himself, and come out the other side of them gleeful and cheery, which was more than he could say.

"I'm not clairvoyant, Katherine, I can't predict the future. But the clouds are grey and- look, you see the shape of them there?" He gestured at the sky with his swagger stick, letting Kitty follow the line of it along to a cluster of clouds gathering in the distance. "See how they look as though they're folded down? That means rain, perhaps even a storm."

Kitty's eyes sparkled, still fixated on that row of clouds that were slowly drawing closer. "Oh wonderful! I do love a good storm." She walked forwards a few steps to the point where the grassy bank sloped down towards flat ground and the lake, sitting down and stretching her legs out in front of her. The Captain eased himself down carefully next to her, joints creaking in a far more overt way.

"Did you like your party?" The question was shy in a way Kitty usually wasn't. Hesitant. Poking carefully and trying to gauge the Captain's reaction. He was confused for a moment, confronted by this peculiarity. It was rare for Katherine to appear so uncertain, so subdued, the usual boundless energy and enthusiasm restrained in favour of restless hands in the grass. Then he caught the look in her eye and suddenly understood. Oh. She wanted approval. From him.

"It was wonderful, Katherine." He said softly. As softly as he knew how. "You did a splendid job."

Kitty smiled but it was weak, the edges tinged with something the Captain couldn't quite name. He frowned and sat up straighter, instinctively tensing at the first sign of something being amiss. "Is everything alright?"

"It's silly." Kitty sighed. "I just- I wish I could actually do something for you. I love Alison of course, but I can't help but wonder what it would be like to plan parties like this with her properly. Putting up decorations and making cakes, it all sounds like such fun and I wish I could do it."

Ah.

It wasn't an unfamiliar train of thought. All of them had felt it at one time or another. The deep want, the longing, itching beneath the skin to reach out and touch. To be seen, to hold, to feel connected to a world that had forced them out of alignment. The Captain had almost lived through the war, he'd heard of unimaginable horrors, received telegrams citing torture and blood and bodies and an ever dwindling hope. The cruelty of war was not lost on him, regardless of his distance from the frontlines. But somehow, being tethered to the echo of a life once lived, forced to remain in the very house he'd died in, and losing that interaction with the real world was the worst thing he'd ever experienced.

For all that Julian complained about being at the his fellow ghosts beck and call whenever Alison wasn't available, he at least recognised his privilege. The Captain knew for a fact that Thomas would give his left arm to hold a book again, and watching miserably as Patrick's hand phased through his own grandchild was not a sight easily forgotten.

"I understand." He said quietly, wrapping an arm around Kitty. "But it doesn't matter to me that you can't do that. I had a fantastic day and I wouldn't trade it for anything. It was perfect and so are you." The words didn't come easily but he forced them out all the same, holding her just a little tighter. It wasn't the kind of contact she needed and he understood that. She wanted to brush her hands through the grass, hug Alison after a day of excitement, pick fruit in the height of summer, and just feel as though she existed. But this was the best the Captain could do. And it was enough.

Kitty leaned against his shoulder, staring out over the lawn and the lake and the fields beyond. The Captain's skin itched at the contact but he ignored it. He would do this forever if it meant making Kitty happy.

They sat there in for a long time, ignoring the discomfort of wind through their bodies, the beginning of rain they couldn't quite feel, and the roll of thunder that rumbled quietly on the horizon. They sat until Mary's star was high in the night sky, just barely visible through cloud and rain, and then Kitty finally stood.

"Are you coming?" She asked.

"Not yet, Katherine, maybe in a little while." She hesitated, clearly at odds as to whether leaving him alone outside was a good idea, but he waved her off with a shake of his swagger stick in the direction of the house.

"Go on, to bed with you. I'll see you in the morning."

Kitty laughed, bright in the darkness of night, and leaned down to squeeze him in a quick hug. Then she was gone, leaving nothing behind but a phantom warmth around his shoulders and a small smile tugging at his lips.

The Captain changed his position, maneuvering himself so that he was now lying down on the grass, much the way he had with Kitty when they cloud gazed all those months ago. There were no shapes in the sky now though, and Mary's star had disappeared in the haze of fog. All that remained was the steady drum of rain on earth, dragging a chill throughout his body as the water phased through him repeatedly. It wasn't that the Captain could feel the damp exactly, the rain didn't settle on him after all, but cold spots pinpricked his uniform with each drop.

It was a quiet sort of night. No nocturnal animals to make noise (all driven into hiding by the weather), no cars going by, no air traffic above his head. Just wind and rain. The kind of night that, if he hadn't just spent all that time with Katherine, might convince him he was the last person on Earth. The kind of night where he could pretend he was still alive. At least for a little while.

A pair of red shoes materialised next to his head, and he found himself utterly unsurprised to see Humphrey staring down at him. It seemed as though he was destined to have the man appear whenever he was experiencing some kind of inner turmoil. Neither of them said a word, letting the quiet settle over them as Humphrey lowered himself carefully to ground and lay back.

They watched the fog roll over their heads, listened to the steady beat of rain against ground, and felt just the smallest hint of warmth in that sliver of space between their bodies. The Captain sighed, relaxed, peaceful even, and closed his eyes. Humphrey shifted infinitesimally closer, their shoulders brushing, and the Captain felt as though electricity might leap from his very skin into the night sky, illuminating it for all to see. The lightest of touches yet it was all his brain could focus on. As though he was tuned into Humphrey's every movement directly, dialled up to the max and utterly overwhelmed.

"I wasn't lying earlier." The Captain said, mostly to distract himself from the contact because if he focused on it for any longer he might explode. "I didn't realise it was my birthday."

He cracked an eye open to see Humphrey turning to look at him, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. Because somehow he already knows this is a bigger thing than the Captain is currently making it out to be. Because he knows that there is more to this.

"Not because I just wasn't thinking or- or lost track of time. I-" he paused, pinning his view back in the sky because it was easier to face that than Humphrey's calculating gaze. "I couldn't remember when it was. Not the day, not the month, not- well, nothing." The Captain laughed then, a sad pitiful thing. "I don't even remember how old I was when I died, for Heaven's sake. Presumably late forties, early fifties perhaps but er- Well, nothing certain."

Humphrey studied him curiously, eyes scanning his face with a concentration only he could manage. The Captain shuffled uncomfortably under that focus, not quite wanting to move away from the warmth leeching into his side, but restless enough to want to flee.

"Fifty-one."

The Captain frowned, baffled. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your age." Humphrey amended. "I was trying to remember if there was a year on that bit of paper Alison found but I don't think there was. So, I'm saying that you were fifty-one when you died."

The Captain scoffed and sat up, jabbing Humphrey petulantly in the side with his swagger stick as he did.

"Don't be absurd, man, you can't just decide what my age was. And regardless, I'm older than that now aren't I? It's ridiculous that we should celebrate a birthday at all."

"Nah, you don't mean that." Humphrey said, brushing the Captain's protests away with a mere wave of his hand. "I know you enjoyed the party, you can't fool me. You like making Kitty happy too much for you to have hated it." Then he smiled, a relaxed lazy thing that sent a bolt of warmth through the Captain's stomach. "Also you're a really bad liar."

"Balderdash." The Captain grumbled.

Humphrey pulled himself carefully into a sitting position, massaging his neck once he was sure it was secure.

"Does it hurt?" The Captain asked softly. Perhaps selfishly, he'd not given a whole lot of thought to his fellow ghosts' aches and pains. He knew Patrick's arrow was a literal pain in the neck; it had taken some practise to avoid irritating it when walking past the man. And Thomas tended to complain about his bullet wound when it was closer to his death day, becoming increasingly irritable and maudlin as the day approached.

The others were more covert about the pain they felt, if any, but Robin always seemed a little staticky to the touch and Mary had been just slightly too warm. It made sense in hindsight that Humphrey's head wound gave him more grief than he let on.

"Eh," Humphrey said, shrugging, "it's not so bad. It just chafes a little sometimes. Nothing I won't adapt to."

The Captain chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment but acquiesced. Humphrey no doubt knew what he was doing, he'd been dealing with the issue for centuries after all.

"Is there other stuff?"

"Hmm?"

"Other stuff you can't remember I mean." Humphrey explained. "Like, for me, I can remember most of the big important life events. Bits of childhood, marriage, meeting Henry the Eighth, decapitation, yada yada. But for some reason, most of the nineteenth century has been wiped from my mind." Then he winked cheekily. "Don't tell Thomas."

The Captain contemplated just how disastrous it would be if he was to hurl Humphrey into the lake and leave him there. Anything to stop him from stumbling upon the questions the Captain least wanted to answer. He squashed the thought down for later. A backup plan perhaps, just in case.

"I remember enough." He said evasively. It wasn't exactly a lie either. He could remember his parents, his childhood home, the town he used to live in. A few voices of friends he'd had in school, even if their faces were blurred over with the fog of age. And obviously significant points in his life, including the war, Havers, Project William, and so on. But personal things. His very identity...

"Captain." Humphrey admonished, flicking him round the ear gently. "You've clearly thought of something."

"It's unimportant."

Humphrey sighed. Disappointed. Ordinarily the Captain wouldn't care a damn about that. He had his secrets and it wasn't his fault if keeping them infuriated someone else. But Humphrey didn't sound annoyed at the Captain's reluctance to share. He just seemed...resigned. As though he hadn't really been expecting anything else. As though Humphrey didn't realise that the Captain, no matter how much he hemmed and hawed when disclosing information about himself, would tell Humphrey anything. Even if it took just a little bit of extra courage to do so.

"My name." The Captain muttered finally. "I can't recall it."

Humphrey stilled next to him.

Perhaps this, the Captain wondered idly, tense as a coiled spring, would be the moment Humphrey decided he couldn't be bothered. It was one thing to tell someone you'd look out for them and be a shoulder to cry on every now and then. It was quite another to be dealing with someone who'd forgotten who they were. Or, at the very least, forgotten some of the most fundamental facts about themselves.

The Captain was no fool. He'd awoken, newly dead, climbed out of his own body and been met by a sea of unfamiliar faces. Strange people with clothes from a different time that chattered excitedly amongst themselves. And one of them, a woman he thought he recognised from paintings around the house, approached him with a raised brow and air of disdain.

"Welcome to Button House. You were a Captain weren't you? Sorry, I don't believe I caught your name."

A haze in his head that creeps down his spine and settles in his bones. Except he doesn't have those anymore. Not properly. His name. Name. He can't remember. Brain too foggy, too confused to focus. To think. It doesn't matter. He doesn't need a name right now, he needs answers. He needs to understand. Something respectable.

"Captain is fine."

The Captain sniffed, his focus on the horizon and little else. He hadn't thought about the day he'd met his fellow ghosts for years. Those first few weeks were...unpleasant to say the least. Navigating an afterlife he hasn't particularly expected to find himself in and resigned to co-existing with people he barely knew. It was confusing and scary, so of course he'd done the thing he did best and pretended everything was fine. Built up a reputation as a bit cold and stoic. A man of mystery, rather than a man who was a mystery even to himself.

"Would you like me to give you a name as well?"

The Captain chuckled and shook his head fondly. "No thank you, Humphrey, that's quite alright. An age is plenty. Anymore and I might start taking advantage of your generosity."

"I'd give you the stars if only you knew how to ask."

Then Humphrey was standing and the Captain could almost convince himself he'd imagined the entire thing. An absurd dream that felt so real in the moment but one he would forget by morning. They walked back to the house, gravel quiet under ghostly feet, until they reached the front door and Humphrey turned to him, uncharacteristically serious.

"Do you like who you are, Captain?"

"I er- suppose so." The Captain replied, eyebrows twitching into a frown. "Maybe not everything but on the whole I think so, yes."

"Then that's all that matters." Humphrey said, his usual air of casual dismissal returning almost as quickly as it had left. "I don't care about your name or your age or- or, I don't know, if you used to steal sweets from the corner shop. This," he gestured, "is the Captain that I care about. If you ever get some memories back then great, and if you don't then great. You are perfect the way you are. Okay?"

The Captain nodded dumbly, his eyes wide with surprise. Sure, he'd felt a little self-conscious about his memory lapse, but Humphrey didn't need to go out of his way to reassure him. It struck up an unnecessary warmth in his chest every time Humphrey admitted to caring about him. Especially in the offhanded way he did so, like it was a well known fact and he was just brushing over it. Like it didn't upturn the Captain's world each and every time.

"Good. Right, I'm off to bed. Absolutely knackered."

The Captain watched him go, just about managing to remember to stammer out his own goodnights, and choosing to linger in the foyer for a moment. He felt exhausted and alight with energy. His body ached and his brain was tired but his thoughts were a kinetic frenzy that whipped around his head in a dizzying dance. He wanted to lie down and sleep for a thousand years and never close his eyes again.

I get to be here with you.

I'd give you the stars.

You're perfect.

Bloody Hell.

-------

~Anchor all your thoughts to the bottom~

The Captain was...confused. He had thought things were getting better. Things were better. All the residents (living and dead) were existing together amicably enough. The odd spat here and there but that was to be expected. Alison and Mike's guesthouse was doing well which was excellent news, and there seemed to be no looming disasters on the horizon.

But the Captain felt...off. He couldn't understand it. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened- the others were fine, no new secret half sisters had appeared to steal Alison's money away, and Mike hadn't broken anything in the house for at least a week. But Mary crossed his mind more frequently. It wasn't as though he'd forgotten her, it was unlikely any of them would, but she'd been a fleeting moment of grief. Someone doing or saying something that reminded him of her for a brief time and then the moment passed and he moved on. But now she seemed to rattle around his head almost constantly. Like a song stuck in his head going round and round and round.

And yet at other times he felt fine. More than fine. Happy. Spending more time with Humphrey and Katherine never failed to put a smile on his face, and he was painfully aware of how bad at hiding it he was nowadays. There were even days when he found Thomas almost fun to talk to. Thomas, for Heaven's sake! A man he rarely had the patience for but had still managed to hold hour long conversations with without wanting to throttle him.

He was aware on some level that the depression was creeping in again, and distracted himself from it as best he could; getting involved with the others, opening up a little bit during their various clubs. Nothing too personal, mind, but tidbits here and there from what he could remember that made Humphrey beam at him and the Captain's cheeks flush horrendously.

It was strange to be so at odds with himself. His emotions at war. Or perhaps it was entirely normal, and the introduction of Humphrey as such an integral part of his life had him forgetting who he'd been before. A moment of happiness, a bark of laughter at some joke Pat had made, then the guilt at finding a source of positivity, and the sadness settling in at the memory of Mary's loss. Then round again. A vicious cycle.

The Captain stood in the living room behind the small chaise lounge, just barely paying attention to Robin and Humphrey in front of him, and felt every bit of his seventy plus years.

"Apothecary." Humphrey said, just a head today, staring meaningfully at Robin. "Ah-poth-eh-caree."

"Ah- Apoppercappy."

"Apothecary."

"Apolocubby."

"Apothecary."

Robin groaned and flung himself backwards onto the sofa, nearly taking the Captain's eye out with his flailing limbs.

"Too hard." He complained, heaving himself to his feet and glancing around. "Julian. Chess!" And Julian, who hadn't even been in the room until that moment, appeared through a wall with the air of someone who'd long since resigned himself to answering Robin's beck and call, and moved over to the chess table.

"You don't have to indulge him every time if it's that much trouble." The Captain commented, ignoring the tongue Robin stuck out at him. "I'm sure he's perfectly capable of entertaining himself."

"Ehh well, you know how it is." Julian nudged a rook back into position. "It's just one of those things isn't it?"

The Captain frowned. "I'm not sure I do."

"Well, look at it this way," he righted a pawn that must have been knocked over in their last game and moved it forwards two spaces, "you'd do anything for Humphrey wouldn't you?"

"I-" the Captain glanced down at Humphrey who looked uncharacteristically annoyed, glaring at Julian from his sideways position on the settee, "I suppose? Within reason, of course, I can't interact with objects for him like you can but-"

"There you go then."

The Captain couldn't help but feel as though he was missing something crucial, given the strange gleam of malice in Humphrey's eyes and the smugness to Julian's expression. Although Julian was always smug, of course, so perhaps that didn't mean anything.

"Captain." He glanced up to see Alison lurking in the doorway, an unusually pensive expression pasted across her face. "A word."

Julian and Robin whistled in unison like the children they were but the Captain paid them no mind. He was more concerned with Alison's grim countenance than any foolish behaviour going on around him, so he followed her out the room, tightening the grip on his swagger stick just a little. A foolish endeavour considering he had no way of utilising it in any meaningful way, but he appreciated its familiarity nonetheless.

"Is everything quite alright?" He asked as they left the room, worst case scenarios already tripping over themselves through his mind. Alison paused and then turned to face him.

"That's kind of what I wanted to ask you."

The Captain frowned. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I've been uh- watching you a bit. When you're with the others, I mean. And you seem mostly fine but, I dunno, sometimes you just get this look. I was worried that maybe...no it's nothing. Ignore me."

"Come along now, you may as well just spit it out." The Captain urged, trying (and perhaps failing) to stop himself from snapping at her. He wasn't used to being analysed, having people watch him and worry about what they saw.

"You've made good progress, Captain. Not just with yourself but with the group as a whole. I like that you're more open with us now, and more receptive to talking about the things that are bothering you. Which is why," she said, kneeling down to rummage through a box of old appliances, "when I see you pretending you're fine in front of the others I get a little worried."

"I'm not pretending."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't stop her rummaging.

"I'm not." Alison sat back on her heels and stared up at him impassively. The Captain sniffed.

"It's not pretending," he said again, more for his benefit than hers, "it's just...avoiding."

Alison had paused her rummaging and was now peering into a battered cardboard box which proclaimed itself to be for a toaster. There was a kettle inside, nestled along with instructions on how to operate a microwave that probably wouldn't have been out of place in the Captain's era. All resting on a layer of flat bubble wrap.

"Avoiding what?" The Captain blinked and then cleared his throat.

"Bad feelings?"

"I thought you were talking to Humphrey about this stuff?"

"Some of it, yes-"

"I'm sensing a but."

"-but," the Captain continued with a glare, "I do not want to become...dependant on him. I should be able to handle some things of my own volition."

Alison chewed her lip, eyeing him thoughtfully from her crouched position on the floor.

"He won't be...disappointed." she ventured carefully. "It's not unusual when dealing with grief and depression to feel like you've, I don't know, stopped making progress?"

The Captain clearly didn't hide his skepticism, as she rolled her eyes and looked back down at the pile of boxes by her feet.

"I don't remember much about my dad's death but my mum's really affected me. I did all the things you're supposed to do: therapy, socialising, taking it one day at a time yada yada. Which helped and I felt a lot better. Not 'fixed' obviously but- but more in control. And then maybe ten months or so after she died I felt like I did a complete U-turn. Suddenly all the things that had been making me feel happy made me feel this horrible guilt. Like by moving on I was...already forgetting her."

She glanced up and smiled. A genuine one, even if the edges were tinged with sadness.

"I thought everything I'd been doing was a waste. That I was going right back to square one and I'd have to start all over again. But after talking to my therapist I realised that the grieving process is more like uh-" Alison paused and wracked her brain for a moment, "two steps forward and one step back. And then eventually it's three steps forward. Then four, five, six, until you barely notice the step back because it doesn't matter. Because no matter when you step back you know you've got six steps ahead of you."

She lifted the toaster box, hefting it into position against her hip.

"Humphrey didn't offer to help you because he thought you'd have a straight path forwards. Obviously I can't speak for him but..." she trailed off. Then smirked fiendishly. "I think he prefers the scenic route."

The Captain watched her leave, blinking foolishly, brain both crammed to brim with thoughts and completely devoid of anything.

Mary lingered near the forefront of his mind. But he found that Humphrey did too.

Hmm.

Television Club would be starting in five minutes. Guilt crept forwards and bared its teeth, poison spilling from its mouth into his ears. Round and round his brain it went.

One step back.

Acceptance beckoned him closer, away from green fog and gnashing teeth, with a kind smile, filling his mind with fond memories and the laughter of those he cared for most.

Two steps forward.

Maybe, the Captain thought as he collected Robin, Julian, and Humphrey from the living room and followed them up the stairs, maybe its time for a third step.

-------

~Ocean waters rising above your neck~

Humphrey was avoiding him. No, not avoiding him. Because that made it sound negative, as though one of them had done something worthy of avoidance. But the Captain was seeing less of him. Sometimes even getting a glimpse was like trying to catch smoke in his hands; the man kept drifting away.

In reality things had merely returned to the way they were before Mary had moved on. Brief sightings. But whilst before that hadn't been unusual, and the Captain certainly wouldn't have thought twice about not seeing Humphrey for days on end, now it was unbearable. Each time he was absent from a meeting or vanished after a quick five minute discussion with one of the others, the Captain felt as though his very soul was being ripped from his chest.

He didn't understand. He didn't want Humphrey to keep disappearing. He just wanted to know what was going on. But each attempt to catch up with him for a conversation or to walk around the grounds or to, God, just sit quietly next to each other for even thirty seconds, was met with an apologetic smile and some half-formed excuse.

And whilst the Captain refused to think Humphrey was avoiding him specifically, it was hard not to take it personally. Perhaps he could have convinced himself he was being overly paranoid, but walking into the living room to see Humphrey and Julian in the middle of a tense conversation, only for Humphrey to spot him and abruptly disappear through the closest wall, did sting.

Julian was involved in some way, the Captain was sure of it. He just hadn't quite figured out how exactly.

He'd managed to narrow things down to the day Alison had pulled him away from the living room for their chat. Julian had made that odd comment, asking whether or not the Captain would do anything for Humphrey, and Humphrey had reacted...strangely. The Captain hadn't really thought about it at the time, too distracted by Alison's arrival to pay any proper attention to the others but...yes. He distinctly remembered Humphrey glaring rather forcefully at Julian, but as that wasn't an unusual occurrence it had barely registered.

Now though. Now the Captain was thinking.

Julian obviously knew something. Some secret that Humphrey didn't want sharing. Blackmail perhaps?

The Captain chewed the inside of his cheek, brow wrinkled in thought. That did seem like something Julian would do. But if that was the case then what was he gaining in return by keeping the secret? Humphrey wasn't exactly in a position to do a whole lot for the man, headless or otherwise. Julian could interact with the living world, for Heaven's sake, there was little else Humphrey could offer that would top that.

Unless...

The Captain paused. He'd been walking alongside the lake for some time now, lost in thought, having escaped outside when it became clear Kitty was practising a new dance routine. It was a pleasant enough day; sun and little cloud to speak of. He'd been hoping to run into Humphrey but no such luck. Which brought him right back into his musings.

Humphrey was still supposedly on guard duty during the night. There'd been a lull in the frequency during the frenzy of Mary's passing and the subsequent mourning period, but Humphrey had mentioned (before he decided to ignore the Captain entirely) that he'd gone back to being a lookout every now and then. Perhaps Julian was doing something at night and was worried Humphrey would rat him out. That of course meant entertaining the notion that Julian was capable of things like worry.

The Captain sighed. He was overthinking this.

It was entirely possible he'd managed to offend Humphrey in some way. He couldn't remember any instance in particular, and Humphrey was usually the first to call someone out on their mistakes, but clearly something had happened. Which meant Julian was involved somehow, or at the very least knew something crucial. And just like that, the Captain was back at square one.

"Bugger this." He growled, and whirled around back in the direction of the house. He would find Julian. Or Humphrey. Whichever showed their face first. And he would be having words.

There was no sign of anyone when he entered the foyer, and judging by the unusual tranquility of the house, Kitty must have finished her dance practise. That was probably for the best. The Captain wasn't in the best of moods and he'd hate to take his temper out on Katherine unfairly. Julian, however, would be getting the brunt of it if it transpired he was to blame for the whole thing. He just had to find the man first.

It was Thomas, in the end, who pointed the Captain in the right direction, after they'd quite literally bumped into each other in the library.

"I believe I saw him upstairs in one of those dusty little rooms." Thomas remarked, brushing nonexistent grime from his waistcoat. "He had Michael's laptop with him if I remember correctly," He pulled a face, "so perhaps you should leave him to it."

The Captain decided it was better for his mental health if he didn't think about that particular comment too hard. As he climbed the stairs, swagger stick grasped tightly in hand, he prayed to every conceivable deity that Julian wasn't doing...that, and that he could confront the man with minimal damage to his own dignity.

Fortunately, luck was on the Captain's side for once when he finally found the right room. Julian was sitting on a sofa that looked to be held together by dust and mothballs rather than fabric, hunched over the laptop, his finger poised over one of the keys. Nothing compromising. He did however slam the lid with surprising levels of proficiency when he noticed the Captain in the doorway. It was amazing how one's talents could improve so drastically just at the mere threat of an eyewitness to...whatever it was Julian had been doing. The Captain was not about to ask.

"Well helloooo, Captain!" Julian exclaimed, ever the picture of guilt, "What an unexpected pleasure." He folded his hands behind his head with an air of false nonchalance. "What can I do for you?"

The Captain narrowed his eyes. "Humphrey has been avoiding me," he stalked closer and jabbed his swagger stick into Julian's chest threateningly, "and I believe you know the reason why. You might, in fact, be the reason why."

Julian raised an eyebrow and adopted a look the Captain had come to realise meant We both know I am absolutely the reason for this problem but I'll be damned if I help you fix it. Any hope he'd had of getting a quick answer out of Julian was immediately extinguished. Bloody politicians.

Then the look was gone and Julian shrugged. "Don't know, mate. Try asking him yourself."

He batted the swagger stick away and stood up, stretching his arms out as he did so, and sent a lazy smile the Captain's way. He shuddered.

It was all...oozy. Oil slick and crafted, nothing genuine at all. Not like Humphrey's. Humphrey's smile was full of spark and warmth, one that sent a heat curling down the Captain's spine every time he saw it. The Captain did not hate Julian (though he had to remind himself of that on a near daily basis) but he certainly despised this side of the man. Usually he was fine, even when turning every conversation into some innuendo fueled minefield, and his friendship with Robin seemed to soften him...somehow.

But this version of Julian was the worst. When he turned on his smarmy politician mode and goaded everyone into arguments.

The Captain straightened his spine. He had not been a particularly fearsome captain in his time. Winning his squad's respect had been challenging.

But he had not failed.

He turned on the spot and watched as Julian walked nonchalantly towards the door.

And he would not fail now.

"Enough."

Julian turned. "I'm sorry?"

"Sit." The Captain gestured at the sofa.

"Excus-"

"Now."

Julian stared at him.

The Captain squared his jaw, eyes steely, posture unwavering.

"Now."

Julian eyed the sofa. Then sat.

"Contrary to your beliefs, I am not an idiot and I would prefer it if we skipped over this tomfoolery." The Captain clasped his hands behind his back and fixed Julian with a cool stare. "I have hardly seen sight nor sound of Humphrey since I had that conversation with Alison, and I believe that is largely because of something you said."

Julian scoffed and folded his arms petulantly. "Oh yeah? Such as?"

The Captain studied him for a moment. Historically he'd always butted heads with the man, never quite sure how to handle the disrespect and sarcasm that seemed to roll off him in waves. Allowing his anger to get the better of him rarely did any good, as Julian wasn't the type to back down during confrontation- quite the opposite in fact as he gave as he good as he got, which lead to the pair of them going round and round in a vicious cycle of snappish comments and thinly veiled threats. No, anger wouldn't get him answers, which was exactly why Julian was trying to antagonise him.

"I asked you why you felt the need to do everything Robin asked of you." The Captain recalled. "You didn't answer me properly but Humphrey seemed to understand what you were implying." He rocked back on his heels for a moment in thought and then straightened his posture. "What were you implying? Humphrey already knows I am his friend, after all, so I can't imagine that was a revelation worthy of avoidance."

Julian smirked. "You're quite clueless aren't you."

The Captain raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Oh." Julian said. "You are clueless. Genuinely."

The Captain bit back the frustration threatening to erupt out of him. He was sick and tired of Julian running verbal rings around him but if he let his impatience show then Julian would win. And the Captain had had quite enough of that to last an afterlife.

"This is all a misunderstanding." Julian sighed, sound almost...truthful, for once. "I assumed you- well, I suppose I was wrong."

"What are you blathering on about now?" The Captain snapped, unable to quite mask his irritability.

"Robin and I are...together, I guess you could say. Top secret, Mum's the word and all, you understand." Julian quipped, tapping the side of his nose. The Captain didn't miss the way his eyes softened at the mention of Robin, nor the twitch of his lips. It was eerily reminiscent of Humphrey. The Captain had seen that same expression on the man countless times during their conversations, though he'd never quite managed to decipher them. But now-

"I don't know where he is right now," Julian admitted, "but I know he'll be by the lake tonight. It's where he goes when he knows you'll be in the house." He laughed. "You've got a bit of a routine, you see."

The Captain sniffed but acquiesced all the same; Julian wasn't exactly wrong after all. The pair of them fell silent. They didn't get along often. Personalities too similar. Too different. Too much and not enough. But the Captain did not hate Julian and he suspected the feeling was mutual. So he shuffled away from the sofa he'd forced Julian to sit on and peered out of the grimy window. The room, he realised with a wry smile, was the same one he'd had his argument with Humphrey in all those weeks ago.

Had it truly only been a few weeks? Months? It felt like years had passed and the Captain was an entirely new person. Like Humphrey had picked him off a shelf, given him a polish, and then discarded him again. But evidently that wasn't true.

"How did you realise you had er- feelings for Robin?"

Julian shrugged awkwardly and picked at his tie. "Just sort of did. I'm not saying I just woke up one day and knew, you know, but er- a sort of gradual awareness I suppose. Worked out in the end."

The Captain tutted thoughtfully eyes still fixed on the horizon, but his thoughts were far beyond it. Thinking of smiles and laughter, arguments and fighting, tears and comfort. Of a hand on his arm and of two bodies sat close together, the space inbetween infinitesimal. Of fingers in his hair and a warmth around his shoulders and the tension completing bleeding out of him until he was relaxed and boneless...

He blinked. Quite enough of that.

"Will you talk to him, then?"

The sun outside was setting. A brilliant orange bleeding into a purple smudge as night crept closer. Sunbeams flooded the room behind the Captain, filling the space with light and filling his head with memories. Brown hair threaded with gold, eyes sparkling, a body relaxed and silhouetted against a window. Leaning closer and closer to his ear, the grin evident in their voice.

I get to be here with you.

I'd give you the stars,

If only you knew how to ask.

"Yes." The Captain heard himself say. "Yes, I think I will."

-------

~You feel the glass start to crack~

Alison had set up a dvd for the lot of them to watch, possibly out of the goodness of her heart, but more likely out of her desire for peace and quiet. Or rather, obnoxious chatter and raised voices, but in a controlled and distant part of the house. The Captain managed to get through the first half hour of it, biding his time before looking for Humphrey who was noticeably absent. But there were only so many explosions a film could have before it started to get a bit tedious.

He surveyed the scene carefully. The majority of the others were fixated on the screen, Fanny surprisingly so, although the Captain had an inkling that was more to do with the lead actor than any particular interest in the plot. Julian glanced up from the screen and gestured pointedly with his eyes towards the door, and then mouthed something very unsavoury. The Captain blatantly ignored that in favour of edging slowly towards the door, keeping an eye on Kitty and Patrick, who were the most likely to notice his escape. Fortunately they did not, far too invested in the action on the telly to look over and see him creeping away.

Once outside the room he took a moment to breathe. Right. He was looking for Humphrey, that was all. No reason for this strange jitteryness that was pinging around his stomach. This was fine.

The lights downstairs were off, inviting a certain gloominess to the foyer, only broken up by the shine of the moon through the windows. He paused before the front door and steeled himself. He'd come such a long way with Humphrey, told him things he'd never have thought of admitting to only a few months ago, and found a real friend in the man. But now...

The Captain did not want to ruin that. And the idea that Humphrey would rather avoid him than confront the tension between them was...well. Understandable, perhaps. But the Captain couldn't deny the disappointment he felt either. Humphrey was not one to hide from his feelings, preferring to face them head on and encouraging the Captain to do the same. The notion that this thing between the pair of them might make Humphrey uncomfortable or regrettable made the Captain feel slightly ill but he was determined to get to the bottom of it all. And if it transpired that Julian was wrong and Humphrey did not care for him in that way, then that was for the Captain to overcome.

He exhaled deeply and readied himself, before striding forwards and phasing through the door, out into the night.

It was dark and a little windy, but the moon and stars were bright over the Captain's head as he walked further out onto the grounds, the lake shimmering only a few metres away. There was little noise, just the occasional rustle of an animal, the gentle lapping of water against the bank, and- oh.

Humphrey was there.

The Captain was surprised he'd managed to miss him, given the tell-tale redness of his clothes, but he was there all the same. Sitting a little ways from the water, head (quite literally) in his hands staring up the sky. The Captain swallowed. And walked over.

"I thought I'd find you out here."

His words had an instantaneous effect, as Humphrey shot to his feet hurriedly, nearly tripping himself up and dropping his own head in his hurry to put himself back together. The Captain raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Going somewhere?"

"Ha- well er, actually now you mention it I was just-ehem-just leaving so...see you." Humphrey stammered out, already sidestepping the Captain and making a break for it. The Captain sighed and caught Humphrey's wrist, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

"Stop running from me."

"I was going for more of a brisk jog but-"

"Please."

Humphrey hesitated, glancing wistfully at the house for a brief moment, but nodded and sat back down with a heavy sigh.

"Yes, of course." He flapped a hand in the Captain's direction. "Sit down, then."

The Captain sat, his usual creaky joints and stiff knees ignored in favour of slumping bodily onto the grass next to Humphrey, dignity completely forgotten. He was just so bloody exhausted. From keeping up appearances with the others, to the mind games with Julian, and the consistent white noise of stress over Humphrey buzzing in his ears, he felt as though he'd aged decades in a single night.

"Can we- do think it would be possible to have a conversation without all this," he gestured uselessly, "bullshit."

Humphrey's lips twitched and he nodded. "You brought out the big swear, so I can tell you're serious."

"Yes, well," the Captain sniffed, "I thought perhaps that 'bumbling idiocy' wasn't quite strongly worded enough."

They shared a smile and then both flushed horribly, eyes darting away to look over the lake. The Captain found his gaze being drawn heaven-ward, and glanced up to see Mary's star shining down on them from above. He relaxed slightly, and felt Humphrey do the same, despite the space between then. But he was beginning to realise that he'd been able to do nothing but notice Humphrey since that day in the foyer. It was as though a spotlight had been switched on and Humphrey had been all the Captain could see ever since. He didn't want that to stop.

"I never- I never thought I could have someone like you." The Captain began slowly, feeling his way carefully through the thoughts in his head and the words from his mouth. "I'm not good at this talking lark, not about myself, and you know that. But," he hesitated, then reached a hand out and laid it purposefully on Humphrey's arm, giving it a quick squeeze, eyes still fixated on the sky above, "but you have helped immensely."

Humphrey shuffled closer. "I'm glad."

"I'd like to return the favour."

The Captain felt slightly relieved when Humphrey didn't even pretend to misunderstand him. Instead the man sighed quietly and inclined his head just a little.

"What do you want me to say?"

It was somewhat jarring; the similarities between this conversation and the one they'd had mere weeks ago. The entire situation turned on its head, like the Captain had wandered into some mirrored dimension.

"Tell me," he said, voice as soft and low as Humphrey's had been that day in the Captain's bedroom, "tell me about that day in the living room with Julian and Robin. When Alison came to talk to me. What were you thinking?"

Humphrey snorted, a quiet huff of amusement. "Mostly that Julian might have fucked everything up." Then he sobered. "But also...that I was being selfish."

The Captain frowned. "How so?"

"I won't beat around the bushes here, Captain. It's probably fairly obvious by now that I've been, well- I've been flirting with you for weeks."

The Captain's could feel his face warm (entirely uncessary given his defunct circulatory system) and Humphrey smirked cheekily.

"Lost for words now aren't you?" He quipped, throwing in a wink that only served to worsen the Captain's situation. "But ah- if I'm being honest I've been egging you on for years now."

"I beg your pardon?" The Captain asked, completely flabbergasted.

"Obviously not like it is now." Humphrey amended, his own cheeks pink in the light of the moon. "Before I just wanted to get a rise out of you. See how far I could push until you let go of all your hang ups and propriety and did something about it."

The Captain was beginning to feel a little hot under the collar about the whole thing.

"But then I realised...the repression thing wasn't just some attempt to gain respect- or at least not entirely. That was just how you were. How you were taught to be. So I backed off a bit. But I liked talking to you, when you weren't being unsufferable anyway, and when you remembered I existed we had some nice conversations."

"I am deeply sorry for excluding you." The Captain grimaced. "We all are."

Humphrey shrugged. "Water under the bridge. But that day in the foyer I saw this different side to you. You cared. I'd only ever seen you that way with Kitty before, but there you were all worried about where I'd been and then worried about upsetting me with the news." Humphrey's hand drifted onto the Captain's thigh and squeezed gently. "It was nice, seeing that version of you. I wanted to see more of it." His hand moved away and the Captain scolded himself internally for missing it already. "But I could see Mary's loss was affecting you more than you were letting on, so I figured if I could help you deal with it- if we could help each other, then maybe I could know you better."

The Captain chuckled humourlessly "I doubt I've been much help. You've assisted me far more than I have you."

"Nonsense." Humphrey dismissed. "You've given me conversation, laughter, friendship. That's plenty."

"So why-" the Captain began, agitating his lip between his teeth, "Sorry, I just- why do you feel guilty?"

Humphrey sighed, dragging a clumsy hand through his hair. "You- well, you needed someone to talk to. A space to share your feelings. I knew that, which was why I offered to help you. Obviously I wanted to get to know you better as well, but primarily it was so you knew you didn't have to act all..." he flapped his hand, "stick up your arse. That you didn't have to be a 'Proper English Gentlemen' or whatever." He fiddled absentmindedly with a thread on his cuff and the Captain fought the urge to still his hands.

"You came to me for help because I offered it, and I was glad. But then we had conversations outside of that, normal ones about whatever we wanted. And I liked it. At first I thought maybe I'd just been lonely, so I tried branching out with the others too which was fine but...it wasn't quite the same. And I'm not an idiot, I know my own feelings, so I realised pretty quickly I liked you, not just because of all the times I spent riling you up before, but because I knew you properly now." Humphrey smiled, but the Captain noticed the edges were tinged with sadness, or perhaps regret. He shuffled closer, letting their shoulders brush.

"That's where the guilt comes in." Humphrey continued. "Because I flirted with you, because I crossed the lines of friendship even though I knew you wouldn't be ready. You'd opened up to someone about your past, about your feelings for the first time in, ha, the first time ever and there I was taking advantage of your confusion." Humphrey chuckled bitterly, voice grating in his throat. "Fucking pathetic."

"Surely you don't think this." The Captain argued, pushing Humphrey's shoulder firmly so they now faced each other. "This is absu-"

"You were confused weren't you?" Humphrey interrupted, eyeing him sternly. "About where we stood. About the friendship we had."

The Captain didn't respond. Humphrey was right of course. He had questioned moments between them, caught himself looking for meaning in the smiles and the compliments and touches, and then scolded himself for wishful thinking. For not understanding platonic relationships.

"When Julian asked if you'd do anything for me and you said you would, I felt awful."

"Why?" The Captain asked, voice quiet, a whisper in the wind.

"Because I knew for you it was out of friendship. Because under all that facade you put up, you're a good person, and you'd do the same for any of us. But for me...it was more. I've never loved anyone before, I never really got the chance. But with you I really think I could. And for that I'm sorry."

The Captain nodded minutely and looked away over the lake, then back again. "You'd give me the stars."

"If only you knew how to ask."

The Captain stared at him, finger tapping thoughtfully against his swagger stick, and then stood, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the grounds.

"You're right." He said decidedly. "I'd never shared my feelings before. Never felt able to, as you know. And yes, when we first started talking properly I did not know how to have a friend. Not a real one that I could talk to about anything. However-"

He held a hand out to where Humphrey still sat and raised an eyebrow. Humphrey's forhead furrowed but he took it all the same, allowing the Captain to help him up.

"I did not track Julian down and order him to explain your behaviour only for you to sweep everything that has happened between us under the metaphorical rug." He spun to face Humphrey and grasped him firmly by the shoulders. "You are not some manipulator, damn it, no matter what insanity you come up with, you are my friend but, more importantly, you are a man I've come to care very deeply about." The Captain sighed and slumped slightly, loosening his grip on Humphrey's shoulders. "I do not know what love feels like either, but if this isn't it then it must be damn close."

Humphrey chuckled wetly and brushed a stray curl from his eyes. "I don't want to mess this up. What we have it's...it means too much to lose."

"So let's keep a tight hold, hmm?"

The Captain let himself be dragged by Humphrey, their bodies colliding and arms sliding into a fierce embrace. He stiffened initially, still unaccustomed to such displays of physicality and intimacy, and perhaps part of him always would be, but Humphrey made overcoming that instinct more than worth it.

And then he relaxed and it felt like coming home.

Humphrey's hair tickled his jaw, his fingers were a little boney, and their knees knocked together, and the Captain had never felt more at peace. A warmth in his gut and fireworks behind his eyes. He hadn't even noticed he'd closed them, but when he opened them and look straight into Humphrey's eyes he vowed never to close them again lest he miss a moment.

Then Humphrey grasped his neck firmly, pulled him in for a kiss, fingers curling through the hair at the nape of his neck, and the Captain forgot he'd ever had senses to begin with. Up was down, left was right, inside outside back to front and Humphrey eclipsed everything.

One of them made a noise, soft and yearning, and the Captain had never been more glad to be dead. They had no need of oxygen and therefore no need to stop. He drew Humphrey closer still, convinced their bodies could collapse inside each other entirely, one entity with neither beginning nor end.

An unexpected cry of surprise had him opening his eyes and stepping back, just in time see Humphrey's body topple from underneath him and the Captain was suddenly left holding Humphrey's head and little else.

They shared a look and cast their gaze down to the dazed body before their eyes met once again. And promptly burst into surprised laughter, the Captain sliding to floor on weak knees, chuckling heartily.

"God, okay," Humphrey wheezed, cheeks flushed, "so that can happen. Kissing you literally brings me to pieces."

The Captain rolled his eyes but his lips twitched, betraying his amusement to Humphrey, who smiled softly and gestured with his eyebrows towards his body.

"C'mon, put me back together; I can't exactly initiate kissing like this."

"A damn shame." The Captain remarked, kissing Humphrey's forehead briefly as though it was something he'd done every day, and placing him carefully back onto his shoulders.

They laid down side by side on the grass, just like they had the night of the Captain's birthday, in quiet contemplation, the stars above bright and beautiful. Mary's twinkled down on them and the Captain sighed peacefully, reaching out to hold Humphrey's hand in his.

"I'd never ask you for the stars," he murmured, "because I don't want them. All I want is to be here with you and the others."

"Of course, Captain," Humphrey murmured back, "you only had to ask."

Above them Mary's star shone as bright as ever.

~Oh, Captain, let's make a deal where we both say the things that we both really feel~