Chapter Text
The forest around him no longer looked like the woodland he was familiar with. Greens, yellows, and blues overlapped one another, making Edwards head spin with exhaustion. His hands were swollen, and stinging painfully. He noticed red bites dotting along his flushed palms. Sweat dripped profusely from his forehead, a quick wipe with his hand every few minutes was necessary. His feet felt like they were full of stones– constantly weighing him down.
The landscape rattled around his lone figure aggressively, his breath forcefully halted. Edward inhaled strongly, exhaling throughout his nose before picking up his previous pace. For hours he’d been wandering the island's outskirts— swatting flies and sneaking past the creatures that strived to sniff him out. He could feel his body giving out, begging him to lay down– just for a moment. But he wouldn't let himself, he had one goal and one goal only, keep running. A familiar feeling bubbled inside his stomach, which warmed his abdomen uncomfortably. Prendick aimed not to think about it, instead,
Truth is, he had no destination. The ocean stretched for miles across the area, miles from any sort of civilization. He had nowhere to run. Though, to Edward anywhere was better than being near those madmen. Even in a forest full of dangerous beasts. Was that even the proper term for them? They controlled the island at this point. Ululating wails echoed across the sand, which became excessively louder at dusk. Those cries became all too normal to him. After the days Prendick had endured on the island, apprehension no longer became something he felt upon hearing those bellows. His heart was jumping out of his chest, it had been hours now.. His feet were moving on their own, other than the few times he passed out (which durations were short,) the shipman hadn't stopped running, nor stopped thinking about what followed. A strained voice called out to him,
“Edward! Come here, please! Just let me– let us explain!”
He knew who was calling out to him instantly, the same man who had been for hours. Prendick would lose him every now and then, praying he had given up, but to no avail. The sound of trotting feet became louder, followed by another. Edward remained focused, peering back, eyes wide, making sure the other wasn't too close. Montgomery stood on a raised part of the sand, spear grasped, a worried look splashed over his reddish face. “Edward please!” Prendick whipped his head to its previous position. The faster he ran, the more hushed Montgomery's voice became. The man's legs ached like never before, a constant burn coating his body. He knew that if he didnt stop now; his body would do it for him, no matter how much he fought it.
His legs had reached their breaking point. He stopped, falling to his knees– shakily searching his pockets for anything he could defend himself with. He didn't know what Montgomery was capable of now, and he would do anything to avoid becoming one of his subjects. As he panted, he found something cold in his right shirt pocket. He knew what it was immediately, a silver butterfly knife. One he's had for many years now. Which had somehow survived all these months tucked away in the damp patch. Bits of rust formed around the handle bottom. After everything, Edward was surprised he hadn’t rusted yet.
He drew the blade shakily, fumbling with the handle. Almost automatically, he released the weapon out to lead, though this action only made him feel more defenseless. Any additional noise from the island ejected itself into his pounding head, making his trembling worsen. He stood there, mouth agape, waiting for the mustached man and Doctor to appear.
With a quick snap of branches, Edward jerked. Slashing at the air in front of him, expecting some sort of attack. He turned and repeated his movement, fearing he was vulnerable wherever he stood. Convinced they were playing some sort of game on him, he huffed in lace as he hastily examined the brush around him. “Just stop.” he pleaded through a whisper.
After hours of exhaustion, and a lack of water and shade, his vision was starting to blur. His eyes bothered him, itching like they were bit by a million fleas. Using his raised adrenaline, he clawed at them aggressively, blood trickling down his face without notice, assuming its sweat and wiping it nonchalantly. The sound of running feet picked up again, and the anticipated silhouettes became clearer. Prendick pointed his knife farther from his body, gulping loudly, “Stay back!” he attempted to bark. His voice came out shaky and low, he wasn't sure if the men even heard him.
“I'm serious, what are— those creatures? I,” The two were now completely identifiable; approaching him slowly, both putting their hands in the air, pistol and spear falling in the sanded dirt. Many thoughts bombarded Edwards mind, he could barely form a sentence. His throat itched for the moisture it had been robbed of. “You, you both–”
“We don't have weapons Prendick,” The English man shook his raised hands for emphasis, “-drop the knife, please. We can sort this out.” Montgomery pleaded, keeping eye contact while he spoke. His eyes were wide, keeping the light brown color they owned, but lacking the kind look Edward remembered them having. In response, he brought the knife to his own throat, pressing the now warmed metal onto his skin, squeezing the handle tighter. “I don't want to become one of your experiments,” he mumbled, his chest tightened. “I won't let you,” he fought back the faint gloss in his eye.
“Edward, I would never– we would never do that. Just put down the knife and let us speak to you, Man to man.” Moreau didn't speak, just rashly nodded once Montgomery finished.
Edwards couldn't think, he wanted to believe Montgomery but he couldn't. After what he saw, what they were doing to those animals, nothing felt the same. The reality he just got adjusted to shattered, replacing it with a new, even deeper hole in his chest. “I don't believe you.”
Montgomery vaguely cocked his head before speaking, “We have no weapons Edward, don't do anything stupid.” he sighed, “I can't even begin to beg you enough,”
“What if you send those– those things on me.” He spat, nothing he said felt crazy anymore. “I've seen what they’ve done to men!”
Montgomery scoffed, “We can't do that, Prendick. Those beasts don't listen to anyone, we can't control them,” Moreau looked like he was going to say something, but did not. “Just talk to us.”
Edward drew the blade from his neck, still gripping on the handle. He figured he was doomed either way, death versus death. “No more lies,” he said, “Be honest with me, I am no fool. Tell me everything.”
Montgomery and Moreau exchanged concerned looks, the lanky man fiddled with his mustache before speaking,
“Alright. Well, would you fancy a drink?”
And so they walked.
Edwards journey back to the Lab was not an exciting one, he feared the worst, feared the entire thing may have been a trap or worse, but there was no point in attempting to kill himself or run away now. He felt broken, it was time to give up, he thought. His mind was in shambles and now his body as well, leaving would solve nothing.
“Stop trembling Prendick, we're not going to hurt you.” Moreau finally spoke, keeping his gaze ahead, and his voice calm. Montgomery on this other hand walked beside Edward, probably as an attempt to comfort the jumpy man. Though Edward did not see it this way.
“Keep in mind Prendick, what you have seen– you cannot tell others about. No matter what, under any circumstance.” Montgomery turned to look at him, before looking back at his feet.
Edward did not reply, just gave a small nod.
The lab came into view quicker than he thought it would, that white, large building brought back his memories all too fast. A sudden rush of screams, hellish yowls echoed through his head. Edward couldn't tell if he was the only one hearing them or not. In that moment, he swore he could smell blood. Which he remembered mostly splattered on Montgomery's hands and face. That iron scent wafted to his nose, it almost stung.
“I've changed my mind.” He ceased his walking,
“Edward–” Montgomery attempted to place a hand on his shoulder, but was quickly pushed back. “What other option do you have? You’re safer with us; then out here, do you understand?” At this point, he was almost begging. Edward wanted to believe him, he really did. Yet no matter where he looked he could see their faces. Their mangled bodies, their twisted frowns, he couldn't go back. He just knew he couldn’t.
Moreau turned around, face growing agitated. “Listen Prendick, if you don't want to understand our work, that's for you to regret. But, you don't really have a choice here, do you?” he crossed his arms behind his back. “Montgomery and I’s work is not something that's typically shown to others. This is a rare experience, even for you. I know what you saw wasn't…” he searched for the word, “...soothing, but you must look at this from our point of view. There is little we can accomplish with ease on this island-, not to mention with the resources we have. Now, with that in mind. Let's continue, yes?”
“And! We have no reason to experiment on you, we have all the subjects we could ask for here,” Montgomery added, giving a small but genuine smile with his words.
Edward tried to speak, but could not construct a word.
“Right well, stop freezing up then.”
Edward fought back the urge to flee, “I can’t, I won't go,” He felt as if he was going to pass out– but before he could, Moreau moved beside him. Reaching inside his coat pocket, extracting something thin and silver. Edwards' mind screamed at him to move– but unable to react, his neck began to burn, Moreau's face was the last thing he saw before his eyes shut, and his body went limp.
* * * *
Prendick clenched his closed eyes. He was sweaty and hot. Unable to feel his lower half, yet his arms and neck stung horribly. He tried to open his eyes but they felt glued shut, trying desperately to remember where he was– he started to panic. He couldn’t talk, his tongue was numb too. He felt too weak to open his mouth. He wondered if this was hell. He felt himself begin to hyperventilate, until a warm hand rested on his shoulder.
“You’re safe Edward. I tried to talk Moreau out of the sedative– but he had no care. You’re here now though and I’ll get you cleaned up later. Only a few minutes until you’ll be able to feel everything again.” Montgomery spoke, patting Edward on the back after finishing. “I will be back to check up on your, well– state,” He looked at the weak man with low, tired eyes. “I really do apologize. I do hope you understand I was against it.” and with that, footsteps, and the sound of a closing door.
Edward wanted to scream. He wanted to punch Montgomery right in the face—(Moreau too.) He wanted to burn this god forsaken island to the ground, along with every disgusting creature that lived among it. But he knew he couldn't. He knew no matter how much blood and gore covered the lush grounds, that he would still be on this island. He would still be in the middle of the ocean. He would still be stuck here, until he dies.
Being able to wiggle his fingers again, he cupped them and squeezed. He squeezed harder than he thought imaginable. So angry, that the pain didn't even matter, at least not now. He stopped, steadily opening his eyes to view his surroundings. Almost instantly, he knew he was in Lab Room 02.
The walls were bright white, floors matching. Glass cabinets scattered along the borders of the room, displaying bones and taxidermied animals. The smell of cleaner was strong, and the floors looked freshly polished. He looked down at his feet, and to his surprise, he could move them again. He sat up from the creaky chair he was placed on, and attempted to walk. His pacing started off weak, but he slowly regained feeling back from the movement. It was bittersweet.
With the sedative wearing out— pain started to replace it once more; shooting aches rippled throughout his ribs and shot down his spine. He began to quickly search the cabinet labels for glassware; he came across the cups, skimming the now faded blue ink lettering before swinging the cabinet door open and searching for a suitable glass. He chose the largest mason-jar esc glass and brought it over to the wooden sink to fill. With so, he chugged, drinking so fast he felt light-headed. He couldn’t quench the sand-paper dryness on his tongue and refilled his glass continuously until it subsided. He was done after the fifth.
He sat for a moment; engulfed in the silence of the room. He felt a strong urge to break it. He caught himself flinging his glass across the room— a desperate attempt to release tension. It smashed into a non-surgical operation table; Edward noticed this and felt his knees buckle; still not being able to believe where he was and what was happening. Every feeling started to pour out with no warning, and this time, he quietly let them. He ever so slightly fell to his knees, softly sobbing into his own arms; this triggered a memory, his mothers embrace– which did not help his cries. He was completely trapped. He had had this realization before; but this time it was different, he was realizing all over again.
A small knock, followed by a click of the door. Edward shot upright; he knew he looked a mess, trying to hold his sniffling back whilst frantically wiping cheeks, he held down his sobs with a hiccup.
“Edward,”
Montgomery was standing upright, a look of horror and stress splattered among his pale face. His voice was frail, he dragged his words thinly. “No more running, just listening,” the more he spoke the shakier his words became. “—can’t you trust me?” He was beginning to give up on him, Edward could see it in his eyes.
Nobody spoke for a few minutes; instead they sat there in the silence they created together, allowing the quietness to nip at their ears, letting it travel down their bodies and rest from the inside. Edward felt the tension deep in his belly, but something else much stronger hid amongst the tension he was used to feeling. This was something new, and he did not want to dig it up now; maybe not ever, so, to avoid,
Edward finally spoke, “I know,” a break followed by tears, just a few, “There's no point in running,” He cupped his hand over his mouth and let out a small muffle. “God say, look at me! Crying like a fool,” Prendick let out a long, drawn out sigh, before making awaited eye contact with Montgomery— who’s eyes were also glossy, full of some sort of pain (Edward couldn’t make out what type, though,)
“No more tears. No more of this nonsense— no, look Prendick,” Montgomery's expression grew a bit brighter, swinging a heavy arm around Prendrick. “I am not going to let anything harm us on this island, do you hear me?” Prendrick nodded, and cracked a smile. This made Montgomery smile as well, “Don't take me as a liar Prendrick, Im serious!” Montgomery then wiped a tear from his bottom lash, feeling slightly embarrassed. “If I've protected myself this long, surely I can do another.”
A large sigh, from the taller man, “I say tonight, drinks. We will talk; speak on whatever questions you may have, I want you to trust me, Prendick.” He thought for a moment, observing Montgomery, who was picking hairs off his coat.“–Get you out of these rags, and fix up these bites. Oh my, you have many,” Montgomery lightly dragged his finger over the irritated, red stings. They littered his arms on both sides, and white pus started to form inside the larger mounds, “Big insects out here. I reckon Moreau may want to give that a look-over.” The sheer mention of the doctor could have sent Prendrick into a panic, but instead, he grabbed Montgomery's curious arm, giving him an honest look of worry before speaking,
“I won’t speak to that Doctor,” a blink, he could hear the cries once more, the iron on his lips, “What he’s done, what you’ve done,” another blink, and he could see the carcasses sprawled once more. Laying on the sand where they once stood, their broken bodies lay frozen in fear. Prendrick could smell the soot, mixed with the lingering scent of burnt flesh. “I won’t speak to him and you won’t make me do so.” He rubbed at his eyes aggressively, almost as a way to erase what he was remembering. Though this didn't work. He felt just as frozen as the bodies on the beach now; his fingers ran cold and he could feel lightheadedness begin to form in the temples of his head, he dropped Montgomery's arm.
“You’re dehydrated, badly,” Montgomery swung Prendricks weak arm around his shoulder yet again, “Come with me now, the room you’ll be staying in has running water.” Prendrick looked at him silly, using the last remaining energy to push himself away from the man holding him.
“Do you hear yourself? Honest, do you hear yourself Montgomery? This nonsense you spill, you speak nothing but! I'm in hell,” Prendrick scoffed, pointing to the Lab window. “Outside that window– the island sits, it sits and sits and will continue to sit. I will continue to sit, to rot on this island.” Prendrick wouldn’t dare to breathe now, tensions so high he swore he could feel it. “I must leave, what don't you understand?” Prendrick was now looking at Montgomery. Watching his eyes, reading his face “I am going mad here.” Montgomery said nothing. “You may die here but I refuse to do so.” The other opened his mouth before closing it again, almost as if he was nervous to speak. “This is killing me, I am going to die,” His sight now began to blur. “I just won't last here.” Prendricks eyes fluttered closed, his legs began to buckle on himself. “I feel sick, Montgomery,” He finished before falling to his knees.
Montgomery rushed over and resumed their earlier position reflexively– Edwards arm lay weakly over his shoulder, Montgomery hoisted his arm under Prendricks breast and steaded his balance. Edward was heavy though, much heavier than Montgomery thought, he smacked the unconscious face, “Speak to me Prendrick, you’re going to be fine.” Edwards' eyes were fluttering in slow succession, “I'm taking you to your room; I’ll run you a bath, get you new clothes, everything will be alright, Edward.” The heavy air outside hit Montgomery's face, he put a cold hand to Prendricks warm cheek. He could feel the heat radiating off the other's body. Almost as if he was next to a fire, Prendricks skin was flushed and boiling. His lips were chapped to the point of peeling and the bites on his arms were now hard, flaking off and leaving bloody scabs behind. “Start speaking Prendrick, ramble about something, I need to know you’re conscious.” The man stayed silent, Montgomery was beginning to worry. He began to pace faster, holding onto the shipman while he swiped branches from in front of him. “Prendrick?” No reply. He could see the building now, and picked his pace to jog— “We’re here. You’re well,”
He pulled the key from his pocket, unlocking room 007, Prendricks chambers for now. The door swung open, he dragged Prendrick to the closest table and placed him gently on top. “Prendrick, open your eyes,” Montgomery ran to the bathroom and started a cold bath then quickly ran to the kitchen. He pulled a large mason jar from the bamboo countertop and filled it to the brim. He quickly returned to Edward, who was still out cold. He held the man’s face, “Open your eyes, please.” He spilled some of the water onto his hands and trickled it along Prendricks forehead, before putting the glass to his mouth and placing a free hand onto the back of his neck. “Try and attempt a sip,” He was not drinking yet, but responding to Montgomery's touch, Prendrick then gave a sharp inhale. “Sip,”
Without question Prendrick let the glass rest on his lips. He drank as fast as he could, though Montgomery limited him— pulling the glass away when he gulped too quickly. “Please,”
“You’ll choke. Drink slowly, I know it’s hard but you must.” Edward nodded, only because he didn’t have the strength to apply. “Just finish the cup, Prendrick. Better?” Edward continued to gulp down the liquid, once he finished Montgomery let out a deep sigh, placing the mason jar adjacent. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and dabbled at the side of Edwards mouth, wiping up the escaped liquid. “I'm going to have to help you in the bath, Prendrick, I do hope you don't mind.” In reply, Edward gave a small nod, still unable to speak. So, Montgomery helped the man up once more, plotting to the washroom before sitting Edward to the porcelain lid of the toilet. He shut the water off as it was filled to the brim– letting his finger drag along the bath water, it was cold but not freezing. “May I undress you?” Edward looked up at him, his eyes tired and bleak. He said nothing, putting out a shaky hand and grabbing Montgomerys. He brought the hand to his unbuttoned shirt collar before dropping his own. “I understand, Prendrick.”
Starting with a deep breath. Montgomery softly pulled Edwards shirt over his head. Edward gave a small groan, Montgomery continued. He put his arms around Edward, pulling his pants off with one tug. He moved the sweat-sticking hair from his face, and pulled his underwear down, folding the pair along with his socks. Edwards' clothes were basically ruined, torn to shreds from nipping rose thorns and rigid rocks. Montgomery decided he would scrap them. Once Edward was fully nude, the color in his face was finally returning. His tan skin reinstated along with the light pink tint of his lips and cheeks. Montgomery hoisted him into the tub, neither looked each other in the eye.
Montgomery started scrubbing his chest first. The bubbles mixed with the now murky brown-ish water; leaves, sticks and blood floated– dancing along the drain. As he began to scrub Edwards arms, the man winced, causing Montgomery to look down; only to find the bites had doubled in size as if resembling dark red marbles, clearly much more aggravated then before. “It’s okay, don’t twitch,” He moved to the lower half of Prendricks body to avoid further pain. He scrubbed the crevice between his back gently, pulling embedded thorns from Edwards bruised skin to toss later. “Just your hair now, and we’ll be finished.” Montgomery lathered his hands with shampoo; instantly the strong scent of hibiscus flooded the small room, combining with the sharp hints of iron and mud to create something completely new.
“Montgomery,” Edward croaked, his eyes sat halfway open. He was noticeably conscious now, flicking his head around the room and rubbing his eyes. “My head,”
“Just some bruises and cuts, no need to worry.” Montgomery brought Edwards head to the faucet, and Edward felt every drop. He was regaining senses; the warm water splashed heavenly on his scalp, the bubbles melted away from him and dissolved into the drain. Edward wondered, but mainly hoped–that his soul was being cleansed in the process. That Montgomery himself was stripping and freeing him from any relation to this island. Like an angel Montgomery hovered above him, their faces only a few inches apart. The lights flickered and hissed but they wouldn't speak, it was silent, and there was nothing to say.
“Why are you doing this?” Edward asked, “Instead of just killing me.” He let his head go limp, and Montgomery shut off the water.
“In all due respect, I feel you've lost your mind. Running around for hours and passing out, if I needed you dead I would have just waited.” Edward stood up and grabbed his towel with furrowed brows, “But, I don’t want you dead Prendrick.”
“Well, we agree on something.” Edward replied, he grabbed his clothes and walked back into the main room, Montgomery not long behind him.
“This is your room,” The blonde man gave a forced cough, “—for now at least. The room number is 007, my room not far from yours, just to the left actually.” He dug around his coat pocket, “Here's your key,” He handed Edward the small rusted silver. A red tag dangled from the loop, in small text it read ‘007.’
The building was old. Reeking of old wood and wet carpet covered by hints of vanilla, a small candle sat beside his bed on a round table. Edward walked over to his bed to get a better smell of the candle, “Its vanilla wood, smells good hmm?” Montgomery moved almost cat-like; shoulders swaying as he spoke, “Bed big enough for you?” He looked at Prendrick with wide eyes and a raised brow.
“It's fine,” Edward replied, eyes darting to a large brown stain on his soon-to-be pillow. “Thank you.” His sheets were navy blue and badly wrinkled. With aching legs he sat down, a poof of dust following as Montgomery joined him. The sheets seemed to be cotton judging from Edwards touch, broken seems stuck from the sides in tangled white threads.
“Oh! Look at this,” Montgomery stood up, prancing over to the large window that took up most of the ‘living room’ wall. Montgomery pulled back the curtains, Natural light shot through the room instantly— the coast was in view. Waves smashed against the weak cliff with a roar below the dark blue cloudless sky, “There’s a small sitting area as well. I gave you my second favorite room— for your comfort,”
Edward sat up from the bed and followed after the assistant, joining him in front of the large window. His eyes scanned the coast line; the seagulls squawked hungrily at the sea, he squinted, and swore he could make out a ship's outline in the distance. Though it was foggy, covered by the opaque smog—he put his face closer to the glass and revealed the outline was nothing but wind. There was no boat and there was no escape. “I need fresh air,” so with heavy steps, Prendrick opened the screen door and sat down at the small brown table on the balcony. Montgomery doing the exact same.
“I’m not sure how to feel right now, Montgomery. It’s like wild animals are nibbling at me.” Prendrick groaned, “I feel pain but also relieve, I can’t seem to wrap my head around anything.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Montgomery shot a quick smirk, “You know, there’s a bar.”
“And you’re still sitting here?”
Montgomery gave a high end chuckle— “I’ll be back then!” He walked back into the building, hands folded behind his back.
This gave Edward time to sit alone. Putting his hands to his eyes and letting out a drawn out sigh, he attempted to relax himself with his finger. Tracing along the top of his hand with circular motions. Since he’s been on this island; it’s yet to stay quiet, either an animalistic yelp or screech stayed auditory, the wind howled or the tall grass hissed, the ocean crashed and the sun beat. The salt nipped at his tongue—he wiped sweat from his forehead, he’d let the sun eat him up and spit him out. The man watched a seagull bite another and could see himself within the animals. Hungry for whatever was thrown his way, screaming and kicking for whatever was tossed.
Montgomery returned with two bottles in hand. A large bottle of red wine along with another smaller bottle, Edward could tell it was brandy based on the bottle design. “When the sun starts setting, we can head back to my place. Explain some things, you know, put some ease in your blood!” He chirped, back cracking as he sat.
Montgomery poured himself a glass of the red wine, filling it to the brim of the glass then pouring Edward about a half of his, he sealed the bottle before opening the Brandy and taking a long swig. His face crinkled, he spoke “So, Prendrick, we know the basics, but you interest me.” He looked over at Edward and tilted his head. “I feel you’re full of many stories.”
Edward gave a dry laugh, “I think you may be creating these stories.”
Montgomery looked at him funny. The alcohol seemed to hit his cheeks first; creating a light pink across them that traveled to his lips, “Is that so?” He took another swig of the small bottle. “Tell me something about you, Prendrick. Or do you want me to do all the talking?” The corners of his mouth formed into a cheeky smile as he spoke.
Edward brough the glassware to his lips and took a big gulp. The dark red wine was smooth— traveling down his throat with ease, the taste of chemical coated the inside his mouth before leaving nothing but the burn. He felt the liquid travel into his stomach this way, the burning nipping at his organs before spreading itself throughout his body to lap hungrily at Edward’s insides, “Thank you for all of this,” he extended himself in his chair. “-’d be dead by now if not,”
Montgomery flicked his wrist, “Under these circumstances—? Prendrick, It’s the least I can do for a shipman.” It had to be around afternoon now, Prendrick watched as the sun was beginning to set; the trees rustled so loudly small goosebumps shot down his spine and through his legs. The humidity that usually sat around the island ceased, blowing cold winds instead of the usual warm gust. The breeze hit his face and for a small moment nothing hurt; not the ache in his head nor the stinging of his sunburns, not one of the bloodied bites itched. Edward noted this as one of the only blessings the island has presented him with so far. He took another sip,
One of the only blessings?
Montgomery's eyes stayed focused on Prendrick. To Edward’s surprise, the brandy was near empty— blonde hair sticking to the sides of his face, the taller man looked as if he was stuck in a deep thought.
“I owe you my life, and probably more,” Edward spoke.
Something else was there. The seagulls screams and squawks couldn’t compare, something much louder felt present between them. Something very alive, almost as if another individual sat with them and spoke in company. “You’ve done nothing but keep me alive,” Another sip, “—and I apologize for the treatment I have given in return.”
Montgomery scoffed. “Oh won’t you quit that? Look, Prendrick,” Montgomery let out a deep sigh, cheeks still glowing pink opaque, “You’ve done me good. More than you’ll ever understand. I've grown so sick of it all.” Another swig,
“How do you mean?” Edward knew what he meant.
“I've grown so sick of everything I see. It makes me sick to my stomach, it’s all become a big mess and nothing but.” Montgomery let his brandy go, putting his hands over his eyes quickly. The glass bottle bounced but didn’t shatter, the drunk spoke through his palms, “I want out just as much as you do, I can promise you that Prendrick.”
Without much thought, Edward scooted his chair just slightly closer to Montgomerys. He pulled Montgomery's hands down to expose his face— which was now flushed. Montgomery was a tear-stained mess of a man. His expression twisted, embodying severe stress and prolonged exposure in the highest degree; he bit at his scrunched lips as Edward wiped a small tear from his bottom lashes before speaking, “It seems we are more alike than I thought.” Montgomery broke out now, letting his tears come as they pleased. He sobbed with sharp inhales and soft hiccups, clinging onto the shipman with full force. Edward didn’t tell him to stop but instead stayed quiet, hand on Montgomery's neck, allowing him to cry into his neck as the birds continued singing their tune.