Chapter Text
A lot can change in 12 years, especially when someone tells you that you’re dying.
When he first found out it was only a week after his son was born, Stede had been putting him down for a nap in the nursery while Mary took care of Alma in the living room downstairs. Mary was playing happily with their two year old, listening to Louis scream and scream through the baby monitor. Mary cursed under her breath, picking Alma up and popping her on her hip. She went upstairs, headed straight for the nursery, following the sound of her son screaming his little lungs out. She opened the door and her heart dropped into her stomach.
Louis was safely lying in his bassinet, crying his heart out but otherwise unharmed, Stede however. Stede was lying in the middle of the carpet on his front, laid in a very uncomfortable position.
Mary called an ambulance moments later when Stede just would not come round. It was a short 3 day stay in the hospital later when they were finally given the news.
“Mr Bonnet, I’m sorry to tell you that you have” Stede was utterly terrified, his face showing it. “A brain tumour-“
The doctor continued to talk him through options and treatments and all the specifics about his tumour but Stede didn’t hear a word. It was like his ears had turned off, ringing violently, he felt sick and shocked. He couldn’t have a brain tumour, he was only 33 for Christ sake! He was a father, his baby boy was only a week old and his little girl was barely 2!
From then on that’s what his life consisted of, doctor’s appointments, treatment plans, more emergency trips to the hospital than was preferable (predominantly while they worked out what pills worked and what would stabilize him best, which took way longer than Stede might have liked).
Thankfully money wasn’t an issue. Stede was the son of an incredibly wealthy business owner, Thomas Bonnet. His father owned a recruitment company, which effectively ran itself. The business had been left to Stede when his father died a year after he’d married Mary, when he was only 31. Stede hadn’t been too broken up by his father drinking himself to death, he was a vile abusive father with a list of sexual harassment allegations longer than his arm.
Most of his adult life Stede had spent trying to distance himself from his father and his fathers name; he'd been more than a little surprised at the reading of his fathers will when the lawyer told him he’d be receiving every penny and piece of property Thomas Bonnet had ever owned. Stede had been living off his own means up until this point, never accepting a penny from the old prick. But when he died Stede used that opportunity to make things better. He walked into the offices of ‘Bonnet recruitment’ and turned the place on its head. He changed every policy, apologized to every woman his dad had ever even been in the same room as, overhauled the working environment of the whole place and effectively ruined every single thing his dad once stood for. It was Stede’s name now, not his dads anymore and he wanted his family to be proud of that.
Stede worked for years after that, nurturing the business, growing it exponentially larger than his father ever could have. 3 years after his diagnosis Stede finally couldn’t keep up. He had been running himself into the ground, working every hour god sent, carrying on with his treatment plan, looking after the kids and just trying to keep on going. It had all been too much, he had pushed himself too hard.
He was sitting at the head of a boardroom table, listening to some boring accountant talk about boring figures. Stede had been getting confused easily and completely zoning out, unable to focus. He hadn’t realized that he was staring into space till said accountant was calling his name trying to get his attention.
“Mr Bonnet, are you alright?” He’d asked, Stede suddenly jolted back into his body.
“Oh… oh yes, sorry all, I’m not with it today” he apologized, excusing himself from the table.
Stede stood, taking himself over to the window for a glass of water.
Bad idea.
As soon as he held the glass in his hand Stede started convulsing and twitching, and then both he and the glass were dropping to the ground. That was the last thing he remembered and the next thing he knew he was waking up in a hospital bed, being told that he had both had a seizure and that he would need his first surgery. It was then decided after said surgery that he would be taking early retirement from work, at age 36 no less.
He said goodbye to his hair, laid back on the gurney and woke up 13 hours later with a significantly smaller tumour nestled in his brain. But his stability didn’t last long. 5 years later, the same again. He had been taking his meds, managing his symptoms, then, bang! One day he landed back in the hospital being told they’re going to cut into his brain again.
A confused fugue state that caused him to wander the streets of his neighbourhoods, completely naked, still somehow better than a seizure Stede thought at the time. Stede was more than a little disgruntled having to have his head shaved again, he absolutely loved his hair and it was finally back to a good length, but it was still preferable to the alternative and he was wheeled into surgery the following morning.
It wasn’t till Louis’ 10th birthday when it happened again.
Stede and Mary had long since divorced at this point, they had separated a year prior and been divorced going on 8 months. That didn’t stop them being the closest two friends could be, it was just their marriage had never worked from the start. Mary had rushed into a relationship with a man she wasn’t all that attracted to but just wanted to settle down and have kids to get it over with.
And Stede, well Stede…
Stede was a flaming homosexual, as gay as the day was long. He had spent so long pretending he wasn’t, but now he was sick he couldn’t ignore that part of himself anymore. So when he’d finally grown the balls to tell Mary, she’d been relieved. She herself had wanted to break things off but can you really dump a man with a life threatening brain tumour? They’d both laughed, hugged, cried and confided in each other. Mary admitted that she had a major crush on her painting instructor, and Stede agreed he was indeed was cute as shit and she should just go for it. So she did.
They had one of the most amicable divorces in history, Stede more than merrily signing over a considerable amount of his wealth, even letting Mary keep the house (he wouldn’t feel right tearing her away from her painting studio in the garage anyway). They co-parented the kid’s beautifully and Stede even bought a home in the same street to make life easier for them. (And also slightly because Mary was terrified for Stede to be too far away from her, in case anything happened) Stede’s new home was not as big or fancy as the one he bought the family when his dickhead dad bit the dust but a lovely home perfect for him and the kids.
They had navigated the tricky waters and come out the other side beautifully, it was just that pesky tumor ruining their happy little bubble, and Louis’ birthday for that matter. That had been the worst of the lot.
The family had invited everyone to a big party at Mary’s house. They had even opened up the pool, which in hindsight was not wise when around a fall prone, terminally ill, klutz like Stede. Stede had been getting a little dazed and confused again, but put it down to the hospital changing the brand of one of his pills and thought nothing of it. Again, hindsight is a wonderful thing, you’d think after 10 years of an illness he’d be able to notice the signs. Either he was actively choosing not to pay them any mind or was blissfully ignorant to his deteriorating state. It was exhausting trying to work out what was just a side effect of his pills and what was actually something to worry about.
No matter how dreadful he felt or how sick he was, Stede was determined to be a good father, the one he never got. He’d spent weeks helping Mary plan for the party, repainting the living room, putting up decorations, hiring caterers and organizing way too much entertainment for a 10 year olds birthday. (“Honestly Stede, he’s 10, he doesn’t need fire dancers!”) But Stede didn’t care, he wanted it to be perfect, he wanted every event to be perfect. He was the same at every Christmas and Halloween and Easter (and all of the holidays in between), always way too extravagant, going out of his way to make a memory for his children. That little voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him that it could well be the last one that his kids would spend with him and he wanted nothing but happy memories for them.
The fact he ruined Louis’ 10th was a particularly sore topic for him, for which he still felt horribly guilty. Stede had been carrying Louis’ cake out to the gazebo that was set up outside, right by the fucking pool, the candles lit and singing along with the other party guests. He lost his train of thought around the second ‘Happy Birthday to you’, stumbling as he walked, muttering incomprehensible sentences. He hadn’t realized that the party were now not looking at Louis but rather Stede himself. Mary was already out of her seat and approaching Stede’s side. His nose had started to bleed and his arms had started shaking violently. The cake dropped to the floor, lit candles landing in the grass. Stede couldn’t really see anything, he didn’t know where he was or what he was supposed to have been doing. When he recalls the memory this time the last thing he remembers was the water swallowing him as he fell.
Waking up in hospital was becoming a much too common occurrence for Stede, after 10 years of being a semi permanent resident there he was sure that all the staff would be sick of the sight of his face. He knew them all so well by this point, all of his doctors and so many of the nurses and porters, had become a second little family of sorts. This was how when he woke this time he knew something was off, everyone was too stoic and hesitant. Mary stood in the corner of the room, tears falling freely from her eyes, quietly sobbing into the back of her hand.
Stede’s primary surgeon, Dr Bailes, was the first to approach, she was sweet and gentle and she gave him the news that all of them had been fearing for a decade now.
“I’m so sorry Stede” they had long since given up on formal names “I’m afraid that during surgery there was some complications. We managed to remove a significant amount of the tumor, as much as we could, like the last 2 times” she informed him, very hesitant and small. Stede hated it, knowing there was worse news coming, “but your body was starting to shut down, we don’t think your heart is strong enough to survive another surgery. I’m afraid this is the last time we can operate” Bailes placed a gentle hand to the back of Stede’s, giving it a light squeeze. “I am so sorry Stede”
At this point Stede had known that there wasn’t a surgeon alive who would have been able to entirely remove his tumor (he knows, he checked), not without effectively destroying his quality of life, which he hadn’t been willing to sacrifice. But it was still shocking to his core to find out that this was it.
He was officially dying.
He had been the entire time, of course. But this time, this time there was no safety net, they couldn’t cut it out again in 5 years, they couldn’t reduce it with radio or chemo, they couldn’t do a thing. Bailes explained it all to him in as much detail as she could, he could tell every word was breaking her heart. On more than one occasion Bailes had called Stede her ‘favorite patient’ and he cared so deeply for her, wished her the world.
“How long do I have?” He asked, meeting Bailes’ eye. The first time he spoke since she had broken the news, the only question he cared to know the answer for.
“If we keep a close eye on your medication and manage your symptoms well enough, I would say, 5-10 years” she looked heartbroken herself to say it. “But Stede, you know yourself how quickly that can change, I can’t make any promises”
“So from now until the end is it?” He offered an incredibly glum smile.
“I’m afraid so, I’m so sorry Stede” she told him earnestly. Mary audibly sobbed in the corner.
“Thank you Mabel, truly, for everything” he planted his other hand atop hers by his side.
From that day forth Stede Bonnet was a dead man walking. He had an unknowable countdown ticking away inside his brain. And he’d be fucked if he wasn’t going to enjoy every last second.