writer's note: EEK! Only two more chapters left! I think this was the least best chapter so far. I'm kind of disappointed with it b/c I wanted it more emotional. It's been written for a while now, and I've let it fester but couldn't get anything better out of it. Anyroad, hope it don't disappoint everyone else!
***
It was such a wonderful dream; Jim didn't want to wake up. The feather mattress under him felt inviting under his aching body. The warmth around him drove the old lingering chill out of his bones. For the first time in the past five days, he felt peaceful. He was drifting back into reality, and slowly he became aware of his surroundings.
"Come back to me, Jimbo." Jim heard a soft voice call. The voice pricked memories, good memories of the past, not nightmares.
Jim's eyes fluttered open, his sight focusing. A large hand cupped his cheek, slipping to the back of his neck, and gently raising him from the pillow under his head.
"I cain't do this on me own, lad. Ye gotta wake so I know how ye are."
Finally, the voice registered. "Silver?" Jim murmured, sounding awfully groggy. He blinked, and the old pirate's face came into view.
"Yeah, it's me, Jimbo. I found you in an awful bind back on David Scroop's ship. How ye feeling, lad?"
Jim didn't answer, and for a minute, he seemed to have drifted off again. But Jim suddenly turned onto his left side and began to choke. Silver hurried to grab a basin off the side table to slide beneath him before he vomited out the liquor that had taunted his stomach. Silver patiently rubbed his back. When Jim was done, he laid back exhausted.
Silver wiped Jim's face with a wet cloth, but waited several minutes before asking, "How are ye, lad? Do you know if you have any broken bones?"
"Don't think so," Jim answered. "My stomach fells like it's going through a meat grinder. My right side hurts. I fell hard."
"Take this, Jimbo. It'll help ye rest." Silver put a glass to his lips, and Jim trustingly swallowed the clear liquid. It didn't burn like the vodka, rather had a strange sweet taste to it - almost like wine. After the glass was empty, Silver stood but a hand tugged at his shirttail.
"Don't leave me alone." Jim pleaded through his bruise shiners. Fear was evident in his eyes though he tried hard to put on a strong front. "Please, I just don't want to be alone right now."
Silver nodded in understanding, sitting once more to stay by his friend's side.
Silver checked the tarnished, age-worn pocket watch for the fifth time. 7:04 p.m. Jim had been asleep for a record ten hours. He shook his head. The poor lad had been beaten to nearly the shade of a purp. It seemed he didn't have any broken bones, but on his right side, a rib most likely had been cracked. Silver wrapped his side with a ripped bed sheet as Jim slept peacefully. Now he waited for Jim to wake.
He wondered how David Scroop had so easily taken Jim from his home. Mr. Onus must have blabbed about Scroop's brother's demise by way of the etherium. It was only fair that Jim was defending himself, though David Scroop could care less about that fact. He was a pirate, for heaven's sake!
*Johnny, you really have gone soft.* Silver chuckled tender-heartedly to himself then his thoughts shifted and his cyborg eye glowed in an orange rage. *Though not so soft to steak a bit of revenge…*
The sound of footfalls interrupted his thoughts. He turned to find Jim standing weakly in the bedroom doorway dressed in an oversized shirt (one of Silver's) and his tattered under-breeches. His breathing swelled his shoulders up and down. Their eyes met for a moment, but Jim quickly drew his gaze to the floor as if in disgrace.
Silver pushed out of his chair, grabbing for the boy. "Jimbo, whatcha doing out of bed? You should rest."
Jim shooed Silver's hand away, and with much difficulty, made his way to the front door. "I'm sick of resting. I need to get home. My mom is probably worrying herself to death over me."
"Oh, no ye don't, James Hawkins." A large hand clapped lightly on Jim's shoulder making him flinch visibly. Silver gently turned him around. Jim still held his gaze to the floor. "How do ye expect te get home? Ye don't even know where ye are. Ye all beat up like a herd of bonzabeast had trampled on ye at that. Don't worry about ye dear mother. I'll get word to her."
"I can't stay here."
"Why not? You're safe with me. Ye don't have te worry about that spider Scroop. I'm watching over ye."
Jim wouldn't look at him. His head hung; long bangs shrouded his face. Silver finally grew impatient and took Jim's chin in his metal hand, raising it. The fear shone out from his eyes, and his jaw was clinched tightly in pent-up frustration. "What's the matter, lad?" Silver murmured, mainly to himself. He knew Jim was the most strong-willed boy he'd ever come across in his life, maybe even more strong-willed than himself. But there was a strange presence around Jim, one Silver had never seen and it made him wonder what torture Scroop had put the poor boy through.
"I need to go" Jim insisted. His eyes darted everywhere but at Silver's face. He pushed passed to the door. Silver moved to block the doorway, folding his arms and staring down at Jim intimidating. Jim gritted his teeth visibly. "Move."
"Ye not leaving."
Finally, Jim snapped his head up in anger. Droplets glistened at the corners of his eyes. "Please let me go."
At that moment Silver could see it. The strange presence he'd felt circling Jim, he knew what it could be. "You're ashamed."
Jim said nothing.
Silver bent on one knee, grasping Jim's shoulders. "You're ashamed, aren't you? Of what? What did Scroop do you ye?"
Silence waned for several moments until Jim drew in a deep breathe, "I was afraid. Okay? You got it out of me. I was more afraid those days on Scroop's ship than I have ever been in my life"
"There's nothing to be ashamed of being afraid."
"Yeah, but…" Jim started to pace, running his hand threw his hair nervously. "I was afraid he would kill me. I knew he would. I tried to escape, but he cut me off at every corner. I couldn't even defend myself!" He stopped. His shoulder started to heave, and he sank down to his knees muttering disapprovals to himself.
Bulky arms wrapped around Jim's shoulder, and he found himself being pulled into a comforting embrace - sobbing into a shirt. He couldn't recall how long he had stayed like that with Silver, but after he pulled away, he was all cried out. His body ached terribly, but he knew it wouldn't last. He'd heal - maybe even the emotional wounds would too. He would heal.
***
It was such a wonderful dream; Jim didn't want to wake up. The feather mattress under him felt inviting under his aching body. The warmth around him drove the old lingering chill out of his bones. For the first time in the past five days, he felt peaceful. He was drifting back into reality, and slowly he became aware of his surroundings.
"Come back to me, Jimbo." Jim heard a soft voice call. The voice pricked memories, good memories of the past, not nightmares.
Jim's eyes fluttered open, his sight focusing. A large hand cupped his cheek, slipping to the back of his neck, and gently raising him from the pillow under his head.
"I cain't do this on me own, lad. Ye gotta wake so I know how ye are."
Finally, the voice registered. "Silver?" Jim murmured, sounding awfully groggy. He blinked, and the old pirate's face came into view.
"Yeah, it's me, Jimbo. I found you in an awful bind back on David Scroop's ship. How ye feeling, lad?"
Jim didn't answer, and for a minute, he seemed to have drifted off again. But Jim suddenly turned onto his left side and began to choke. Silver hurried to grab a basin off the side table to slide beneath him before he vomited out the liquor that had taunted his stomach. Silver patiently rubbed his back. When Jim was done, he laid back exhausted.
Silver wiped Jim's face with a wet cloth, but waited several minutes before asking, "How are ye, lad? Do you know if you have any broken bones?"
"Don't think so," Jim answered. "My stomach fells like it's going through a meat grinder. My right side hurts. I fell hard."
"Take this, Jimbo. It'll help ye rest." Silver put a glass to his lips, and Jim trustingly swallowed the clear liquid. It didn't burn like the vodka, rather had a strange sweet taste to it - almost like wine. After the glass was empty, Silver stood but a hand tugged at his shirttail.
"Don't leave me alone." Jim pleaded through his bruise shiners. Fear was evident in his eyes though he tried hard to put on a strong front. "Please, I just don't want to be alone right now."
Silver nodded in understanding, sitting once more to stay by his friend's side.
Silver checked the tarnished, age-worn pocket watch for the fifth time. 7:04 p.m. Jim had been asleep for a record ten hours. He shook his head. The poor lad had been beaten to nearly the shade of a purp. It seemed he didn't have any broken bones, but on his right side, a rib most likely had been cracked. Silver wrapped his side with a ripped bed sheet as Jim slept peacefully. Now he waited for Jim to wake.
He wondered how David Scroop had so easily taken Jim from his home. Mr. Onus must have blabbed about Scroop's brother's demise by way of the etherium. It was only fair that Jim was defending himself, though David Scroop could care less about that fact. He was a pirate, for heaven's sake!
*Johnny, you really have gone soft.* Silver chuckled tender-heartedly to himself then his thoughts shifted and his cyborg eye glowed in an orange rage. *Though not so soft to steak a bit of revenge…*
The sound of footfalls interrupted his thoughts. He turned to find Jim standing weakly in the bedroom doorway dressed in an oversized shirt (one of Silver's) and his tattered under-breeches. His breathing swelled his shoulders up and down. Their eyes met for a moment, but Jim quickly drew his gaze to the floor as if in disgrace.
Silver pushed out of his chair, grabbing for the boy. "Jimbo, whatcha doing out of bed? You should rest."
Jim shooed Silver's hand away, and with much difficulty, made his way to the front door. "I'm sick of resting. I need to get home. My mom is probably worrying herself to death over me."
"Oh, no ye don't, James Hawkins." A large hand clapped lightly on Jim's shoulder making him flinch visibly. Silver gently turned him around. Jim still held his gaze to the floor. "How do ye expect te get home? Ye don't even know where ye are. Ye all beat up like a herd of bonzabeast had trampled on ye at that. Don't worry about ye dear mother. I'll get word to her."
"I can't stay here."
"Why not? You're safe with me. Ye don't have te worry about that spider Scroop. I'm watching over ye."
Jim wouldn't look at him. His head hung; long bangs shrouded his face. Silver finally grew impatient and took Jim's chin in his metal hand, raising it. The fear shone out from his eyes, and his jaw was clinched tightly in pent-up frustration. "What's the matter, lad?" Silver murmured, mainly to himself. He knew Jim was the most strong-willed boy he'd ever come across in his life, maybe even more strong-willed than himself. But there was a strange presence around Jim, one Silver had never seen and it made him wonder what torture Scroop had put the poor boy through.
"I need to go" Jim insisted. His eyes darted everywhere but at Silver's face. He pushed passed to the door. Silver moved to block the doorway, folding his arms and staring down at Jim intimidating. Jim gritted his teeth visibly. "Move."
"Ye not leaving."
Finally, Jim snapped his head up in anger. Droplets glistened at the corners of his eyes. "Please let me go."
At that moment Silver could see it. The strange presence he'd felt circling Jim, he knew what it could be. "You're ashamed."
Jim said nothing.
Silver bent on one knee, grasping Jim's shoulders. "You're ashamed, aren't you? Of what? What did Scroop do you ye?"
Silence waned for several moments until Jim drew in a deep breathe, "I was afraid. Okay? You got it out of me. I was more afraid those days on Scroop's ship than I have ever been in my life"
"There's nothing to be ashamed of being afraid."
"Yeah, but…" Jim started to pace, running his hand threw his hair nervously. "I was afraid he would kill me. I knew he would. I tried to escape, but he cut me off at every corner. I couldn't even defend myself!" He stopped. His shoulder started to heave, and he sank down to his knees muttering disapprovals to himself.
Bulky arms wrapped around Jim's shoulder, and he found himself being pulled into a comforting embrace - sobbing into a shirt. He couldn't recall how long he had stayed like that with Silver, but after he pulled away, he was all cried out. His body ached terribly, but he knew it wouldn't last. He'd heal - maybe even the emotional wounds would too. He would heal.
