Coming home both was, and was not what he had expected. Particularly, the trip home was not what he had expected. Sin had been… quiet. Of course, he was pretty sure that was about what he'd said that morning.
They had fallen asleep wrapped up in each other, bodies relishing in the physicality their minds refused to acknowledge was missed, filling gaps they hadn't even realized were there. However, it's easy to think things are going to be alright in the dark, before the light can shine on the dirt and the cracks in the foundation, and like all things, morning rose on their peace and reality shone through.
Rurumu had knocked on the door and beckoned them to breakfast, and they had both been reluctant to leave the safe space of the bed, unwilling to face the world outside the sheets, motheaten as they were, Sinbad thought they were heaven; a palace of the Gods, a Djinn treasure chamber because they held one of his dearest friends safe and whole within them.
Sinbad had literally rolled off of the bed, hair a tangled violet mess around him but Ja'far only sat up, making no move to come off the furniture.
"Ja'far?" That seemed to trigger something in the younger male, and he swung his legs off the bed and padded quietly to a bad in the corner before tugging his shirt off, revealing his pals skin, barely concealed ribs and the tops of sharp hipbones protruding above the hem of his ill fitting trousers.
Sinbad tried not to stare, but he could feel his eyes drying out as he focused on the kid, the child he had failed to protect. He saw the way his skin was stretched over bones far too close to the surface, looking more poorly taken care of than when he'd first joined the company, and the scars… It had been one thing last night, tracing over them, but seeing them in the light, was nearly unbearable.
They were in thick layers across his back and arms, some faded to white, pearly and paler than his already fair complexion, and others still angry and red, tinted with purple like a bruise mottling flesh far too young to be so mistreated and marked.
Memories of his father came to him in a violent wave, and the thought of Ja'far in a similar fate made him nearly dry heave where he stood. Ja'far had a shirt in his hand when Sinbad couldn't take it anymore and surged forward, locking strong arms around the boy, leaving his hands, still holding his shirt, trapped somewhat awkwardly in front of him as Sinbad embraced him from behind, face buried in his neck and purple hair coming forward to tickle over Ja'far's still bare chest.
"Sin?" Ja'far asked, pulling gently at the embrace but not enough to actually break free of it.
"I'm sorry," Sinbad mumbles against his skin, grip tightening, and his hair shifting, making Ja'far squirm in his arms. "I'm so sorry," he repeats, dropping his lips to an angry scar that reached the top of his shoulder and was curling it's way around to his collarbone, and Ja'far struggled again.
"Sin your hair is tickling me," he complains, and he feels the lips on his skin curl into a smile and he knows he's going to regret having said anything rather than just waiting for Sinbad to let him go.
"Oh is it?" He asks, his voice mirthful, letting his hair sweep across his skin again and Ja'far let's out a laugh, body twitching away from the sensation.
"Seriously stop!" Ja'far complains and Sinbad does then, relinquishing his grip on the little assassin. They're both laughing as Ja'far pulls his shirt on.
"I can't wait to be home," Sinbad says, his eyes wistful as he looks out the window, "for you to be home."
The sun breaches the horizon, spilling the full heat of the morning into their little room.
"Sin, I can't come home."
More than anything, Sinbad wishes they were still embraced by darkness, by ignorance, and by happiness. Not surrounded by the fractured illusions he'd held and that had kept him going while Ja'far had been missing, while he'd been kidnapped, the thought that the only obstacle was finding him.
"What are you talking about?" He says, and his voice is a rasp, and his throat hurts.
"I can't go. I'm sorry. I wish I could, I… I missed you all, but I can't go. The organization hasn't stopped, they won't stop, until I stop them, and I can't risk you all, I can't risk Rurumu's family, or your company, I just can't. Not now."
"You're her family too, Ja'far," he says, and he realizes he's pleading now but he doesn't care, he can't care, he just needs him to come home, he needs him to be safe, he doesn't want to see him again with more scars, with more pain etched into his skin, more instances of times Sinbad had broken the promise they'd made in that dungeon.
"I can take care of myself, Kikiriku? He can't, and I won't ask Mahad and Vittel to fight this with me. I won't ask any of you to. This is my fight."
"You don't have to ask us! We're in this together, any of us, Mystras, Hina, all of us, we'll help you."
"That's why I didn't come home, I knew you would say that, and I can't let you."
"You aren't letting me! Dammit, I've been making my own decisions for years, I don't need your protection Ja'far. Have you even thought this through? How are you, one, one person going to take down the whole organization. Huh? How? Tell me."
"I'm working on it. I'm taking down their agents as I go," he says, and notices Ja'far is packing his sack with the small array of items scattered around the room.
"And you don't think they're replenishing those numbers? All you're doing is killing kids like you!"
"You don't think I know that?!" Ja'far snaps, throwing the bag in the floor. "You don't think I realize that, and that I'm choosing to do it anyway?! I'm trying to keep you all safe!"
"We don't need your protection!" Sinbad hisses, getting up in Ja'far's space, towering over him with his height and looking down at him. "We need you," he says and his voice is softer now, realizing yelling isn't going to persuade the other man, he's too brick-headed for that.
"No, you don't. I'm just an assassin, you have two of those."
"I'm not talking about your skillset Ja'far, I'm talking about you. I'm talking about the person that Masrur is closest to, Kikiriku's brother, and the brightest person I have under me. I'm talking about you. We need you."
"You're going to have to wait, I'm sorry Sin."
"Ja'far I just found you, I'm not letting you walk away like this."
"I'm not asking you to let me. I'm asking you to understand." Ja'far says quietly, picking up his bag and clutching it in his hands, red wires peeking out from beneath the sleeves of his tunic.
"And I'm asking you to understand," Sinbad says, grasping the younger's hands in his own, wrapping scarred fingers in calloused palms. "Please. Just come home. We can handle this. Together."
"Sin-"
"You have no idea how worried I've been, or Rurumu, or Drakon. Ja'far you mean so much, to all of us. I need you to realize that."
"But I'm nothing."
Somehow, the sun is even brighter now.
He wasn't sure if Sinbad was angry, or if he was hurt. He'd hardly said anything since they had met up with Rurumu.
Maybe it was a combination of both.
He couldn't be sure.
It was going to be a long journey.
Noon his before too long, and they were making good time when they stopped for lunch.
Sinbad was still silent.
By early evening the silence had driven him crazy, and probably Rurumu too, seeing as she had chosen to fall back considerable, letting Sinbad and Ja'far take the lead.
"You're quiet," Ja'far says simply, not knowing how otherwise to bring up the elephant in the room.
"Is that wrong?" Ja'far frowns.
"It's unusual. And concerning."
"So is what you said this morning."
"Which part?" Sinbad ran a hand over his face, and he looked older in that moment, and yet still young, still too young to have the weight of so many allies on his shoulders, and yet here he was, standing strong and tall, but burdened by the past of an assassin he shouldn't have to be so concerned about.
"Where you said you were nothing." Ja'far looked up at him, but Sinbad was looking away, looking out at the sun as it faded into horizon, leaving behind the light and the grit of the day for the cool reprieve of night. "You mean a lot to me, and to everyone at the company. I don't know how you don't see that, or how to fix it."
"You don't have to fix me Sin."
"No I don't. Because you aren't broken. But you are wrong, you're everything Ja'far."
In that moment, his heart seized, and for once, it left behind a pleasant spread of warmth instead of icy tendrils of dread, even if he knew one day, Sinbad would take back those words, for now, in the dark of creeping night, it was enough.
It's early the next morning when they board the ship that will take them back to the trading company, and Ja'far spends most of his time perched atop the side of the deck watching as the waters pass, seeing the dark shadows of sea life just below the surface, swimming along in their life with nothing more to think of, nothing complicated, nothing difficult.
"How are you doing Ja'far?" Rurumu's soft voice asks from behind him, and he turns to face her, the soft tendrils of aquamarine hair flowing about her, bare feet and every inch the woman he'd missed terribly while he was gone despite his efforts to forget everyone. Forgetting was so much easier than moving on, in theory anyway, the execution was something he hadn't quite gotten to.
"I'm," he pauses, contemplating, because he hadn't really thought about how he was for the longest time, because no one cared. There was no one to ask him, and his first priority had never been himself, so outside of others, he was unlikely to think about how he was, if he was hungry or happy or lonely, he just was. He thought often about how his family would be doing, if they were safe, if the organization had found them despite his efforts, but here they were, proof that everything was ok, at least for now. "I'm good." She smiles warmly at him before her face becomes serious.
"You worried everyone you know Ja'far, leaving like that. Sinbad and Drakon worked very hard trying to figure out how to bring you home."
"They didn't have to do that, I was fine."
"That's not the point Ja'far." She's on her knees with her elbows on the railing in front of her, putting her almost right at his eye level. "The point is that they didn't know And they care about you, they wanted you to be safe and home."
"Why is everyone so worried about taking me home, don't you get it's dangerous."
"You take those risks for family Ja'far. The tasks you'll do with Sinbad are dangerous, dungeons and Djin warriors, does that make you any less inclined to be around him?"
"But that's different," he tries but she levels him with a look and he closes his mouth.
"Think about it. Is it really different?"
"I guess not…" he concedes. She puts a hand on his shoulder as she stands, and he looks back out to the waters, the waves barely visible in the calm weathers.
"Let's go get some food, you've lost weight." She says, giving a small tap to his abdomen before leading him to the dining area where Sinbad joined them shortly after.
They arrive back in port almost a week later, and there's quite the gathering when their ship docks.
"Welcome back!" A symphony of shouts sounds from the pier when their exit ramp drops. Ja'far doesn't have much time to think before Sinbad hoists him up on his shoulders, bag and all, and starts towards their friends.
His heart swells at the welcome, and he finds himself close to tears, but unable to let himself actually let them fall despite the way it makes his throat ache and his vision blurry.
"Ja'far!" He hears a small voice say, and then Kikirku is pushing his way through the crowds and grasping at Sinbad's leg, and seconds later a blur of burgundy is looking up at him with silent and almost completely concealed glee.
"Ja'far," he says, and he can't wait anymore, and he's wriggling his way off of Sinbad's shoulders and to the ground, where he wraps his arms around both of them, something that Masrur only allows for about half a minute before he's struggling away and tugging at Ja'far's hand.
He looks back at Sinbad who simply smiles and gives him a look that says 'go on then' and he's following scampering children back behind the trading company and kicking around a ball with his obnoxiously strong family.
His knees and shins are going to be bruised from stopping Masrur's kicks, and his palms are stinging from catching Kikiriku's, but the best part is the ache in his cheeks he feels from smiling so much.
Sinbad joins them after a little while, and takes more than a couple of balls to the face and one to the side from Ja'far before they start a game of two on two.
It's a little violent and there's one point where Sinbad bodily picks up Ja'far and takes the ball to try and get it past Masrur to score a point for him and Kikirku. Ja'far is yelling and laughing, slung over the man's back like a sack of potatoes, but it's the best he's felt since he left after that day at the beach.
It's close to dusk when Rurumu calls them in for dinner and the rest of the "welcome party."
It's overwhelming, and Ja'far isn't surprised when Masrur disappears after stuffing his face. The kid isn't big on crowds, and to be fair, Ja'far isn't really, but he felt like for today, he could deal with the discomfort.
He'd been hugged and welcomed back by just about everyone in the company, including a teary eyed Vittel and a smiling Drakon, odd as the smile looked on his normally stoic scaly face, and Ja'far wonders briefly how much of a pain in the ass Sinbad had been in his absence.
Seeing their boisterous leader amongst the party, drinking and celebrating, he feels like his answer is obvious.
Very.
And for some reason, despite knowing Sinbad's melancholy must have been unbearable, the thought that his absence was noticed, and missed, actually brought warmth to his chest, and despite all the comforting words and reassurances, it's those evidences that come out when they aren't meant to, that don't quite feel like their supposed to be understood or conveyed, that mean the most, because people don't lie when they don't think you're listening.
He looks around, looks at all the people, all his family, at Rurumu wrangling a wine glass out of Kikirku's hands, ad Hinahoho looking on with fond exasperation, at Masrur who has re-appeared to claim more meat and the slinking back off down the hallway, at Drakon talking to Serendine, as unwitting as their alliance had been, he's happy for them to be here now, and he thinks Rurumu's influence is doing good things for the princess. He sees Mystras slumped over the table behind Sinbad, and laughs gently at how the party has progressed.
"Everyone is happy to see you back," one of Serendine's companions says gently from beside him. "Even Miss Serendine, though she may not say it, is happy to see your safe return."
"I'm happy to be back as well," Ja'far says before going up to Sinbad and pulling the wine glass from his hand and taking a sip himself of the bitter liquid and coughing gently as Sinbad pats him on the back.
"To Sindria!" Someone shouts, and then there's more drinking and celebrating and eating, and he feels warm all over and his finger are tingly, but he thinks that may be the wine.
There's chasing, and games, and at one point Ja'far is waving his weapons around because he's convinced Mystras stole his glass even though in reality he just knocked it over.
Sinbad sits in the corner, eating with a Masrur who has once again rejoined them when Rurumu brought out another large plate of food, watching his friends, his family party, watching Ja'far let loose and play, the Immchuk kids cuddled together in the corner and Serendine talking with Mahad and Vittel while she sips on her own glass, Hinahoho and Drakon conspiring bets on Ja'far versus Mystras as the younger threatens the Sassan knight for theft of the "highest *hiccup* order."
It's a good night, and he hopes to see many more in the continuation of Sindria, in company or country, this is what he wants. This happiness, this camaraderie, and these people. He may bring more aboard, but its them that make this work, all of them, even if some of them don't quite get that yet.
He does grimace thinking about having to deal with everyone tomorrow, when they're hungover and less than indisposed, but right now, he'll just relish in this moment, in this safety and joy. Let the night continue its blanket before the morning comes and they have to deal with everything "tomorrow" encompasses.
Party scene inspired by
So there's another chapter, please review if you enjoyed, I love knowing what you guys are thinking, and I hope to go back and be able to reply to everybody eventually. Sorry it took awhile, bronchitis is a bitch -_-
Also if anyone is interested in betaing any of my stories, let me know :P
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