V. (continued)

About a week later, James knocks on John's door. John calls out "A minute", and when he opens the door James realizes he was busy attending his leg (his trousers obviously just put on hastily; a towel, a mirror and a bucket by the bed).

"I'll come back later."

"No need; I was done anyway."

John turns and walks back towards the bed, clearly expecting James to follow in.

So James enters; and sits on the floor against the wall, facing John's bed. (The bucket is on the chair, close to the bed, and James doesn't mind.)

"Everything all right?"

John was about to put the bucket on the ground, realises it's not necessary anymore and sits back on his bed, his eyes back on James.

"I've had worse - it's nothing. What brings you here?"

James seems to hesitate.

"There's something I'd like to discuss."

John nods.

"Sure."

Again, there's a pause, and John waits.

"I thought about the cache."

John nods again.

Another pause, and James finally lets it out.

"That hut you found... Would it have been high enough for Billy?"

John is confused.

"Billy? I thought he was dead? You told-"

James sighs.

"Well, technically, he fell from the top of the mast. It's a hell of a fall. I presumed. But you know the sea didn't take him once before. He might have survived yet again."

John searches through his memories.

"Well, Rackham could easily stand. So yeah, maybe. I guess indeed it wouldn't have been necessary for a shorter man to build that high. A tall man. Probable. English soldier or Billy. Who knows?"

"Most chances either way are the cache is in England then. Billy wouldn't have stayed close to Nassau, in case he'd run into someone. And an English soldier would have probably wanted to go home."

John is now looking at him with intent: "Are you hinting at what I think you're hinting at?"

James's voice turns somewhat desperate.

"I realize it's not much. But it's something. I'm sure you could make it enough to Oglethorpe."

John needs a moment. He actually closes his eyes and takes a breath. When he opens them back, James somehow wishes he hadn't: John looks locked-down, sealed shut; his face a hardened mask James recognizes all too well.

"You want me to go chase a ghost. Fine. I'll give it my best shot."

Become Long John again; move heaven and earth until he'd find a way to get them too out of here - or die trying, because, right now, John honestly does not feel strong enough yet. And if he fails? James loses too. That's a responsability John doesn't want to shoulder; but a responsability he will have to - because James asks him to; and a responsability he will most probably find unknown strengths to fight from; so maybe there is a chance, after all. And he owes James, and Thomas, to take it.

John then turns his attention to the items on his bed, and James can't help but feel that it's like he's already preparing to leave, and James doesn't know if he should shout or cry. It's unnerving how, for all the times they do understand each other without even a word, there are still so many times when they completely misread the other...

James slides once forward on the floor, until he's literally at John's foot. He feels like making physical contact, but as every time when it is not absolutely necessary, he refrains. No matter how close they've become, James can still count on his fingers the numbers of times he has actually touched John. It is peculiar, because John is often tactile. But not with him. James is unsure whether it comes from something he himself radiates, or from something inside John that is still somehow prudent around him, or both - but it just is; and James respects the limit, no matter what. He hasn't even crossed that line when he had been granted John out of the dead...

So James has to plead with his voice: "Look at me?" - and wait until John's eyes cross his again.

"I - we - don't expect anything from you. I just want you to know that you have a way out of here, whenever, if ever, you might be willing to take it. But what you do with that knowledge is entirely up to you."

James feels like he is incapable of breathing until knowing that John believes that there is nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

"I would, you know. If you'd ask me to."

It's but a whisper, but John's face is open again - and it only tears at James's heart too. His voice sounds broken to his own hears as he answers.

"I know."

And that's why James knows he won't ever ask.

Silence falls. They do not notice it, lost as they are in each others souls for a while. Maybe that's when they communicate the best anyway - wordlessly.

/

There is an ache in James's heart with John's name on it.

James is the land to Thomas's sun. It needs it to be alive - without it, it's empty, infertile, dead. Thomas completes him. He is the brightness to his darkness, the faith to his doubts, the certainty to his fears. But they are no contraries. They are complementory: Thomas is his other part. A key and its lock. A puzzle made of two pieces. That chinese symbol James saw once in one of Thomas's books, back in London. The two halves of one heart; of one soul. United, they are a whole; and apart, after having found each other - they just feel lacking. Together, they are a world in balance. Peace. Light.

But James is the sea to John's moon. It doesn't need it to be alive - the winds and currents make it dance to. But whenever the moon pulls? The sea complies. John is part of him. They connect, instinctively - no matter their differences and their misunderstandings. The two sides of a coin. Never to watch in the same direction, never to see each other, even, maybe. But they cannot get lose of the other, since they oddly but definitely became one, intrinsically tied to each other. So where one goes, the other follows - there is never balance. Clash of storms and yanking tides. Darkness.

And James knows the darkness. So he had been ashamed, when he had realised how much he had been tempted though, at some point in his own blackest hours, as he had finally started seeing John besides Silver, to keep John in the shadows with him - John couldn't miss a light he didn't know; and at least, they both wouldn't be alone. But right then? John had met Madi; and afterwards? James would never have wished to take him away from her light. Losing it was a feeling he had hoped John would never have to learn. And when they both had thought her lost - those few days? James had had proof that he had been right about what Madi was to him. And it had gutted him to his core to have to witness his loss.

James knows Madi was John's sun. His everything. His Thomas. That's why he had written that letter to Madi - John was giving him Thomas back; so James owed John a chance at having Madi back too. And knowing he has indeed repaid that debt, James feels redeemed, somehow. He has done right. But James still owes John - he will ALWAYS owe John now. Because John has saved his life; over and over, numerous times (that it had been for his own interest in the beginning doesn't change that fact). Because John gave him Thomas back, no matter the cost. And because Thomas is still alive and well and here with him; while Madi is gone - so soon; too soon - and John is back in the dark, alone; this time for good, and knowing what he misses. And James knows that feeling too.

Also: Thomas is James's standfast; he lifts him up, supports him. Thomas is a rock. Solid. Strong. Ever present. And Thomas survives, no matter what, barely altered. He has been mistreated, he has been brought down, again and again - but he is still bright, good, and strong. James had been awed, when he had realized how himself Thomas still was, no matter how much he had been wronged. James is sure though Miranda wouldn't have been. She knew him longer; she knew him better. Thomas was her sun too; and her faith in him was astounding. Maybe that's what had given her the strength to do as he had asked - protect him. But James knows now too. Thomas doesn't need him. Yet he has chosen to need him, and to keep needing him - and honestly the wonder in this feels like a gift from above James never felt worthy of, but is nothing but grateful for anyway.

But John? John endures. He's always been but a patched-up gaping wound, still bleeding under the bandage. Madi had been the one holding the bandage tight enough, day by day, for the wound to start to heal shut. But now that she's gone - and has actually taken the whole bandage away with her? John just bleeds out. So: John needs him.

And James obliges. James wants to help. Because he had had help; and no matter how much he had resented it - how much he had resented her - at the time, James knows he would have been utterly lost without it - and would have never lived long enough to get his second chance either... And so, he'll be John's missing leg. He'll be John's Miranda. He'll be whatever John needs him to be...

/

They do not mention it ever again.

But the next chance at a private conversation with Thomas he has, John makes Thomas promise what he couldn't ask James to promise - because he felt James would have found a way not to promise him anything. But Thomas is to ask him; if the moment ever comes this place grows unbearable to any of them. And Thomas promises.

.

Backstory:

James's moon tattoo is prior he met the Hamiltons. His mother (long dead) used to tell him his freckles were like stars; and when he went Navy and learned to navigate with the night sky he felt his 'nocturnal sky' skin missed a moon so he added one. It's related to his love for his mother and his love for navigation, so it's forever VALID.

Anyway, that's why in London, James used to see himself as the moon - because his skin was nocturnal (stars freckles and moon tattoo) and because it was the missing poetic spot in their triangle, so it made sense somehow even if it wasn't 100% accurate (because you bet his moon and thomas's sun shone together and not apart) - because Thomas was the sun and Miranda was both the earth that grounded them and the sky that held them up.

(Feel free now to join the club 'Forever crying over Miranda'…)

.

And on the 'practical' side, I think it's due time I share my 'view' of The Shame Farm - just so you can imagine how they live, in this fic.

I won't say it's right - do not get me wrong. But I just don't believe it is the worst of evils.

Because I expected the reunion to happen in a tiny dark room; and it was out on the open - and they kissed, in 1700's, under the bright sunlight; and no one cared - not only about the kissing, but also about the stopping working.

Because there is a limit to how much one can lie to oneself; and that Oglethorpe is just too believing that he is better than most to actually be in fact just the same or even worse.

Because at this time, most nobles would always prefer death to slavery. Both for themselves and their relatives. So if they found this solution to be better than death, then it might be something else.

Because it is A COLLECTION. Maybe not one Oglethorpe can actually boost about, indeed; but one he relishes on in private, I'm sure. And what do you do with your collections? You take care of them. You keep them safe from harm. Because that's the only way to enjoy them for a long time.

Because if you're paid to keep someone, it's your job to KEEP. Some people may send emissaries from time to time to check how their relatives fare.

Because none of their clothes are rags, and none of them have marks from fresh physical abuse.

Because that text on the door can be interpreted in many ways, and that those can be contradictory.

Because with what Oglethorpe wins by selling his sugar/whatever grown by people he doesn't pay more than by feeding/clothing/etc them a minimum decently, and by taking a fee for 'interning', he is still easily richer than necessary, with the added luxury of a (from the time) quite clean conscience.

So, here is my vision of their daily life (overthinking?me?):

- there are separate spaces:

* the ones 'bought instead of being hanged', who are the most common and the most hard-working, probably (but not actually treated badly either). But knowing they escaped death, I figure it would mean something to them.

* the pregnant unmarried girls, who gets to stay at the house until the time comes and then are send back to their families - and the babies are entrusted to someone outside the farm, and are followed until they reach adulthood at least - to be able to give news, if ever ask

* the ones who are sold in - because their families are afraid or ashamed of them, aka the mentally crazy ones or the physically misformed, who needs intensive care and/or high security

* the ones who are sold in - mostly for being different; politic free-thinkers, against the king, against the rules, or gays, or atheists, or all of those at once, aka "the collection". The lords, captains and kings. They work too, because we're humans, and we need validation, we need to feel useful, so they have to have something to DO. But they have a softer treatment than the ex-convicts.

- there are guards, and they are armed. both for show (potential clients expecting to put someone here to stay expects armed guards) and for security (in case one of the 'crazy' goes on an accidental killing spree, to put it simply)

- they eat in common. and there are common spaces to wash.

- but they have private cells, like in a monastery. a bed, a chair, a table... simple, but private (maybe not all of them, the convicts have maybe dormitories. but 'the collection' does have private quarters.) (James and John were offered by inmates adjacent spaces, and they blocked a door and holed the separating wall (let's say it's mostly wood, so...) to make a common space. John has a cell for himself. And it always stays that way.)

- most are christian religious - occidental 1700's, right. so. they all have sunday off the fields. not that they don't have to work at all (they clean up, repair, whatever) but it's 'off'. there's also a church building, sort of. i'm not sure a true priest gets there every sunday (Oglethorpe might simply read from the bible too), but maybe once a month? once every 2 months? but they do get communion, if they want. and they get last sacraments; if they want, and if there is time for it.

So yep, that's out. It's a jail, no doubt. It's wrong, it's unfair - because most of the people here probably haven't in fact done anything truly wrong (Oglethorpe is not crazy, he's not gonna buy the early equivalent of Jack The Ripper, so I bet the convicts are mostly thieves who tried to steal from nobles in order to survive to start with), no doubt. But it's not THE WORST. And of course I would prefer to have them all out. Keeping them here HURTS me. But there are 20 f$#%#$g YEARS, and James DIED AT SAVANNAH "of old rhum" (= if he had escaped he wouldn't have stayed in the neighboorhood to start with, and the 'rhum' thing is because that's what people thought - because they knew he was captive), and I just can't throw it all out of the window, no matter how much I would want it, purely for commodity... So I just had to find a way to live with it - and THIS is it. I don't expect anyone to agree. But I just had to find a way to BEAR it a minimum, so please just don't burst my bubble?