Wake

Storm and Tender pulled on their tattered coats and, after taking a deep breath in, exited the Six Mile Inn. The reason they were leaving the little inn that sat six miles away from Charleston was because they were on a mission. Commissioned by Lavinia and her husband, John, Storm and Tender were off to the market to see if they could buy, or steal, more supplies for the inn. Everything was low and neither Lavinia nor John nor any other of their patrons wanted to go trekking out into the snow to go and find stuff. Now, Storm and Tender hadn't exactly hopped at the idea of going grocery shopping either but, after Lavinia promised them few drinks, they did finally agree.

"You are the strong men here," Lavinia smirked at them. "Besides, I might have some spirits to warm your spirits when you get back!" she said.

"Fine. We'll go," the two weary survivors sighed as they pulled on their coats. Then they stepped out into the summer snowstorm. Along the way, all around town, the two men found a massive amount of dead bodies. Little girls, old priests, elderly women. Everyone! Everyone had fallen asleep! But that did mean a lot of free stuff for Tender and Storm.

"The wake is going to be huge!" Tender murmured as they exited another house. This one had a man who seemed to have been in the process of heading out. He had his coat and tie on, but no shoes. He hadn't quite finished whatever it was he was trying to do.

"We'll be getting new Marked members soon too, probably," Storm added. He pointed to a bloodstained corpse that had been left on the steps of an old chapel. Already, a group of people was gathering to address the grisly murder. Grave-diggers were being called in, donning what few clothes they had left and grabbing their shovels. There was no more room for proper burials. With so many people dead, the entirety of the east coast had pretty much become a festering graveyard. All anybody could hope for was a body in a hole. There were no headstones. Along the way, one particularly sad sight met the eyes of the two killers. It was a lady with dark skin. In her arms was a baby with skin a shade paler. No doubt, this child was a mixed baby and the townsfolk had decided to kill them both. Where was the father? Had he been killed too?

A few hours later, the pair returned to the Six Mile Inn. They managed to get everything Lavinia had asked and then some due to their ransacking of various houses along the way down and back.

"Here are your spirits, darlings," Lavinia purred, trading them two large, foaming mugs in exchange for the bags frozen to their arms.

"Good!" Storm and Tender were more than willing to exchange. Then they began to drag themselves to the fireplace heap. When they turned to their seats, however, they saw a new man sitting at their table. He was a big, burly man was a scar upon his cheek.

"Who might you be, good sir?" Tender asked politely as he sidled over to the stranger.

"Tim," he grunted back, voice deep and strong and accented. He gestured to the free seats beside him, so Storm and Tender sat.

"You aren't from here, are you?" Storm asked, something about this man screamed that he was a foreigner.

"I'm from Indiana," he said. Storm nodded silently.

"What brings you out here, then?" Storm asked next.

"Well, I've been preaching up in Indiana for so long and trying to get us to become a proper state, I decided to take a brief rest from all that."

"How come?" Tender asked, sipping his foamy drink. Tim gave him a suspicious look.

"Don't you worry, you can tell them," Lavinia seemed to appear out of nowhere. She leaned over to Tim and, when she stood up again, he had an amused smirk upon his scarred face. Lavinia winked at the other two Marked men and offered them another drink.

"So you're a Marked?" Tim queried after Lavinia had given them all refills.

"We've got the mark of Cain carved in our arms," Storm affirmed, then he and Tender showed their inner forearms together. Tim mirrored their movements and as the three all revealed the dark red marks that scored their forearms, the marks began to glow faintly as they always did when around other members of this murderous brotherhood.

"Who did you kill?" Tender asked conversationally as he rolled down his sleeve again.

"Some stupid bumpkin who tried to make treaty with the king," Tim answered. Tender and Storm gave matching looks of distaste. "I know, right?" Tim asked. "But me and my big, big gun, Destiny, took care of him," he patted the large rifle resting against his leg and Storm gave a small whistle of approval. Tim's was on par with Lavinia and Sarah's rifles.

The trio continued their friendly chats about murder and the Wake that was sure to be coming up because of all the freshly dead. They passed hours playing cards and drinking some of Lavinia's finest. In the background, normal patrons came and went, never knowing that half the people of the Six Mile Inn were murderers. At last, however, the pub closed for the night. In response, other Marked members came to the pub and their time to shine came around.

First was Mary. She and her trusty bulldog came from the upstairs where they had been sleeping all day. Edward followed her down, having chosen not to go home that day. He didn't care if his mother fretted or not. Next, Henry and James came in, both of them already looking drunk despite the night being so young. Sarah was unable to join that night, tending to what was left of her dying estate. Rosalie, of course, was freed from her corner of the Six Mile Inn kitchen. Johnny also stumbled in alone a few moments later. His crow was, as always, close behind.

Once the gang was all in attendance, the singing began. Pub songs and murder ballads were exchanged between the patrons as people fought over who would sing, dance, drink or play the old and slightly out-of-tune piano. Halfway through the night, however, the sound of hymns and prayers came from the old chapel Storm and Tender had found the body on earlier.

"Looks like the Wake is starting," Tim observed.

"I'll get my prayer book," Henry deadpanned back. Edward snickered in reply while Rosalie, who had been resting her head upon Henry's leg, made a made a barking noise up at him. Mary ran her fingers through Rosalie's tangled hair and Rosalie touched her hand in gratitude.

"Shall we join in with them?" Tim asked as some louder hymns of mourning started.

"Sure," Tender and Storm said together, then, in morbid unison, the Six Mile Inn joined the Wake.

AN: This combines the first four EPs. Tim is my headcanon name for the Indiana Man. (If you notice, Tim can actually be an acronym for the Indiana Man, so that's partly where his name came from).