#not sure i can write a more self-inserty stede if i try

[yerbamansa]

Wrote a little thing last night on my phone because I keep thinking about it. What if I shoved all my sad feelings about the bunny dying into Stede and made it a meetcute in the end, as one does? Everything is an AU, blah blah blah.

Under a cut for pet death, depression thoughts.

Stede hadn't expected Arthur to die.

The funny little guy with the soft face and floppy ears left poop on the floor and a hole in Stede's heart.

He wasn't even sure about getting a rabbit in the first place. Always figured he was more of a cat guy, maybe, except Mary was allergic so they never had one. Then the divorce, and then the kids pleading for a pet, and then the shelter event at the pet store where the most beautiful man he'd ever seen showed him how to handle a bunny, gentle and easy as anything. Told him about a Facebook group that was good for questions and congratulated Arthur on finding his forever home.

So he'd brought Arthur back to his two bedroom apartment and given him run of the place. Coaxed him to jump up on the couch for cuddles and treats. Got used to the little guy being underfoot, especially in the kitchen. Stede found himself eating more green vegetables just because he could share. Habits that became ingrained over time. 

The rabbit was for the kids, sure, but Stede was Arthur's human. He had never really been anyone's human, not really, so Arthur occupied a very special place in Stede's heart.

And then, one morning, Arthur didn't want to eat breakfast. Not even pellets or treats. Stede brought him to the vet, gave all the meds he was prescribed, paid for the tests he was told to get, and then…

Well. No one to appreciate his kale stems and strawberry tops anymore. No one to look out for under the desk chair. No one to appear at 7 o'clock on the dot, eyes shining, to remind him about dinner.

The kids were sad, of course. And his friends were kind. No one made him feel bad about mourning something as silly as a pet bunny. (He'd excised anyone who might've ages ago, around the same time as the divorce.)

Thing was, Stede had been sad and lonely for a while. Arthur was good company, a reason to get up in the morning, but his loss felt bigger than that. And yet, he felt it in all the little ways, the crevices of his day, the way he didn't have to check a water dish or close a door at night. All the small ways he'd made space in his life for the love of a tiny creature. Like it was the last good thing in his daily life to go.

The mourning held so much more than that one loss. But it was the part that anyone else understood.

It took him weeks to clean out all of Arthur's stuff, all the little oops stains and fur piles and scattered hay. Part of it was just feeling tired. Part of it was wanting to feel that wave of sadness and loss from seeing the mess left behind, just a little longer.

Eventually he decided it was time to try again. No bunny could be Arthur, he was certain, but he could make new friends. Probably.

He spent time on the website of the local rescue that he'd adopted Arthur from, sent a few emails about different bunnies, and made plans to visit an adoption event to meet a few.

There, sitting in a pen with a fuzzy gray thing with jet-black ears, was him. The beautiful man who helped him find Arthur.

"I'm here for the adoption event?" he said timidly. He wasn't even looking at the rabbits, all sitting in their little pens kitted out with colorful blankets.

The man set down the rabbit and stood up. "Great," he said, brushing some of the fur off his shirt (but not all, never all). "I'm Ed, who are you here to meet?"

Stede swallowed. You, he thought.