Discarded Playthings

lucinda-wolfson:

It had started last night, after dinner Rose had taken Lucinda into a private drawing room and told her to take a seat. That was the first warning, that Rose was offering her tea, pouring the service for her instead of asking Lu to do it or getting a servant in the room. It was an awkward affair, Rose’s perfectly manicured hands flitting at Lu’s eye level as the queen set up the tea cups and the pot on the tray.

Something had gone wrong at Port Prosperity. Lu wasn’t stupid, despite what Rose thought of her. As she was handed the piping hot tea, she smiled sweetly, thanking the queen as she took the china. She raised the delicate cup to her mouth to take a small sip from the tea, burning her tongue in the process but keeping her sweet smile on her face. The Queen, Lu was sure, thought that she had something to do with whatever trouble Jack had gotten into up north - as if Jack told her anything.

It was a shame that Rose underestimated her, but it was the only advantage Lu had. It was no shock that the Queen was incapable of imagining that the girl in front of her could go against her wishes in any manner. So Lu stayed innocent. She kept her dresses pressed, her hair combed, her ankles crossed. And when Rose spoke at all about Jack, Lu blushed, looked down at the carpet and tried to imagine what on earth could have gone wrong in Port Prosperity. What the hell had Jack done this time?

“I thought it was a diplomatic mission.” (look up, eyes wide, don’t overdo it.) “Has something gone wrong?”

Jack felt his headache increasing the closer the cavalcade got to Shiloh. Port Prosperity had been sunny when he left, which stung at his eyes when David had opened the curtains, as though the bright sun would cure them rather than remind them of the empty bottles they’d dumped unceremoniously into the recycling bin that David had observed, with a hungover sardonic tone Jack hadn’t ever heard from him before, would probably just get dumped into the garbage anyway.

The blond soldier had dropped him off a block away from where he’d picked him up. The prince was missing his jacket and his wallet, some buttons from his wrinkled shirt, though he’d gained a bruise under his eye and a tender spot on the side of his head. He’d been surprised how difficult it had been to talk David into it; he couldn’t imagine that the other man didn’t want to hit him, beat him. The bruise was barely there, would heal in a day or two; it was apparently all the cruelty David Shepherd could muster, and only in the service of a believable story of a mugging while Jack had stepped out for some air. And who’d believe it, except for that bruise.

No one mentioned the smell of liquor Jack imagined must just be rising off him as he dozed in the warm backseat of the long, official car. He shrugged off questions and the offer of a well-meaning soldier to get him a doctor. He concentrated on the sound of his shoes on the marble staircase as he made his way back to his suite of rooms. He didn’t know or care if Lucinda would be there, didn’t care about the two guards walking behind him (two? was that necessary?). He didn’t glance at them as he pushed the door open and walked straight to the bathroom, running a hot shower and losing himself under the water for long enough to forget that he was home.

Lu was in the sitting area when she heard the doors open and close. Sitting on the couch she shifted, pulled down the fabric of her skirt and watched the door to their bedroom, hoping it would open. Nothing. The water turned on and Lu looked away from the light blue door, shifted on the couch and took a deep breath, staring at the weave on the carpet. At least he was back and operating under his own steam. That had to count for something.

Her hand trembling slightly, she closed the book on her lap, putting it on the table in front of her. The room was too big for just her, the apartments were too small for two of them. Standing up, she shifted, pulling her robe closed and tying the front as she walked through the door into the bedroom. The water was the loudest thing in the apartment as she slowly padded to the door of the en suite bathroom. Taking a deep breath she knocked on the door, watching the steam seep under the door.

“Jack?” Her voice was soft. “Are you doing alright?”

Quiet as her voice was, Jack heard it. As though he had a special channel, reserved just for her; her voice pierced  through the sound of the shower and his own thoughts. His dark head was bowed under the water, both hands on his head. His eyes were already closed and he squeezed them closed tighter. There was no real answer for her. Was he alright? Some things were better now. He had a plan; the flash drive was sitting on the edge of the counter, waiting for him to hold in his hand again, a tangible proof that the last two days had happened, hadn’t just been a dream while he lay at the edge of the bed away from the warm reach of the woman now calling his name at the door.

    No answer. Lu closed her eyes and glanced to the side, her arm dropping slowly from the door. She doubted that he hadn’t heard her - she had surely enunciated clearly. A small flush crept up the back of her neck as she realized he was ignoring her.

    He let the silence stretch out between them, picturing her standing there. He knew she’d wait. She always waited. He’d known her to fall asleep outside that door, while he’d leaned against the wall and let the shower run as he texted with David, smiling to himself when he read that final ‘Be good, Jack.’ His smile had faltered as he nudged her awake, watching her stumble to bed.

    The prince had no smile now as he turned off the water; it was started to cool down anyway.

    “I’m fine, Lulu.” His voice was harsh in his own ears, loud enough to be heard through the door. “I’ll be out in a minute. Go to bed.” Jack grabbed a towel and rubbed himself dry, still standing in the shower, then wrapped it around his waist. He grabbed onto the flash drive, tucking it safely against the palm of his hand. Opening his hand for a minute, he looked down at the innocuous-looking device against the scars. He leaned down to gather up the clothes he’d been wearing, then dropped them again. He was a prince, damn it. Someone else could clean up his clothes.

    Go to bed. A short order after a long weekend. Lu rested her head against the door and took a deep breath, trying to figure out if Jack meant anything more by that, if he was angry or upset or just annoyed.

    “I’m going to stay up a bit.” She said, brushing her knuckles against the door before standing up straighter and pulling her robe a little tighter across herself. “I have some tea.  If you want it.” Pausing for a few more seconds, she waited at the door, watching the unresponsive wooden frame before taking another step back, turning away. Lu pushed her hair behind her ear, resisting the urge to run into the sitting room, away from Jack, away from the silence that he refused to break. She forced herself to walk calmly, gently pushing the door open and disappearing behind it.

    Jack closed his fist around the drive again; it was slightly cool in his overwarm hand. Tea. He took a deep breath, walking over to  the bathroom door and opening it slowly, fighting the sudden impulse to shove it open and potentially hit her, the dark haired wisp of a girl he could almost feel pressing her ear to the door to catch any secret, hidden sounds he could make.

    He was surprised when she wasn’t there. The steam rushed out of the room, dissipating almost immediately; he shivered slightly when the cooler air of the outer room hit his still damp skin. The prince glanced over, noting the bedroom door ajar and knowing she was in there waiting for him. His steps were slower as he reached the door, knocking once before opening the door and walking in; he was careful to close it behind himself, hearing the quiet latching as the only sound in the room. Jack didn’t look to see where Lucinda was in the room, going over to his walk in closet to find a sweater and relatively worn pajama pants. He wasn’t a prince in bed. Before dressing quickly, Jack hid the flash drive from David back behind the rolls of tee shirts he no longer wore. He’d find a better place in the morning, but for now that would have to do. As he re-accustomed himself to being home, he could smell the faint perfume Lu wore and what was likely the tea she was drinking. Taking a deep breath, he walked out of the closet into the bedroom proper, feeling his face already slightly stony.

JB 20

heading home. 

i’ve got the flash drive and permission to give david’s number to ward elizade. 

i’m so damned tired now that i’m going back to shiloh.

i’ve never slept so well as i did with my head on david’s shoulder.

Broken Arrow

crownofbutterflies:

 

He nodded, looking over the edge of the bed, watching the rain outside through a small crack in the window. Staying silent for a few seconds, David tried to get his mind to work in lateral lines, attempting to reason out what exactly was the point of going home when home didn’t even want him. David didn’t look away from the window and he shrugged.

“I want to change things. I don’t know…” he made another hand gesture, shaking his head, staring ahead. “I don’t know how, not really. I just know that the king-”

There was a silence, and David shut his mouth quickly, eyes wider than when he first started talking.

“I just know that what’s happening in Shiloh isn’t right.” He said quietly, not really knowing what he meant by it, almost regretting saying anything at all. He was sure he was drunk.

Jack was silent for a moment after David was finished. At least, he assumed he was finished. The statement hung in the air, louder than the thunder that still rumbled discontentedly in the distance, intermittently joined by the muffled sound of a train. He didn’t even realize that his eyes were closed, comfortably using David to keep himself up. It was warmer like this; the chill of the room didn’t seem able to pervade two bodies this close together.

“No…it’s not right. And you haven’t even seen it.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, mouth closed. David swallowed, his eyebrows pulled down as he looked at his feet. He didn’t even need to see it; it was in the papers, it was in the way he felt when he thought about home, it was why he was exiled to Gath. “What’s the first thing you’d change? If you had that power.” Jack’s voice was quiet, tired, fuzzy with drink, and almost hesitant, as though someone else could hear them, hear this, plans made by boys who were men and who weren’t at the same time.

David shook his head, frowning a little, not looking up.

“I don’t know.” That was wrong and he shook his head, immediately amending his first statement. “I’d bring Michelle home.” David quickly looked over at Jack, frowning still.

“Is that selfish?”

“No,” Jack said immediately, though he didn’t open his eyes. “Why would that be selfish? You didn’t even ask what happened to your piano. You just…thought of her.” And it wasn’t jealousy he was feeling at all. It was something else. Something to do with too little sleep and too much to drink. “I mean…do you even know what to change?” He swallowed. “I didn’t mean that to sound accusing or anything. I’m including myself. I don’t know what to change. Just…it feels like…” He opened his eyes for a moment, though he wasn’t looking at anything really; the wall and the window and the ugly bedspread were all before him but invisible. David smiled a little, feeling a little better. He turned to lean his head against the bed again.

“It doesn’t feel like Shiloh,” he finished. “It doesn’t feel like Gilboa. Like something essential’s gone out. Gone quiet?” He closed his eyes again, not even noticing that his body sagged a little more against David’s side as though depending on the blonde man to be the strong one. “I don’t know.”

David didn’t even notice that Jack and pressed closer to his side. He shrugged his free shoulder and took a deep breath.

“We’ll have to figure it out, I guess.”

“We’ll need more scotch for that, I think,” Jack said a bit indistinctly, raising his eyebrows  though his eyes were closed. David chuckled, shrugging one shoulder again, his movements going a bit slower as he became more and more tired.

“More importantly we need to figure out tomorrow. I mean…” The prince paused, listening to the rain against the window. “They’re looking for me. Not because they’re concerned, but because I am a very high-priced item to be lost in unstable territory that belongs to Gath and Gilboa seemingly at the same time. So…I need to be mugged rather than having a secret rendezvous with the notorious David Shepherd.”

    David nodded, eyes closed, head sagging forwards.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. You can leave me your wallet and a few extra bucks for gas, huh?” He laughed a little, chuckling in the back of his throat. “Gas money. Bet you never had to worry about that before.”

    Jack smiled, letting himself slip down a bit further on the floor so that David had to take all his weight against his side. He felt cold and warm at the same time, there was something nervous and jumpy in the pit of his stomach, but he also felt drowsy and comfortable. He closed his eyes as well; there was nothing he was looking at besides the way the lamp light outlined the back of the other man’s head in gold.

    “No…I mean, at the front I had to worry about vehicles running out of fuel, but there was never a day in my life that I ever…” He opened his eyes, staring. “Well, that I ever asked for anything. The things I wanted, I got. And the things I really needed to ask for…well, I guess I didn’t know how to ask, so I just didn’t.”

    David was slowly fading. He looked over his shoulder at the door and nodded to himself, noting the latch across the door. Good. Safe. Sort of safe? Safe. He said a quick prayer without realizing he had done it and glanced over at Jack, looking at their legs next to each other. Ask and you shall receive.

    “Are you asking for anything now?” he muttered sleepily. Jack shook his head, cheek brushing against David’s shoulder. He didn’t pull back, and after a moment his head was resting against David as well.

    “Who would I ask?” he murmured, voice quiet and unaccusing. “Anything I want I have to get for myself. I want to get out of my room. I want my father to let me be myself. I want a chance to do something good.” Trite things, all of them, but they were real. He’d never thought to ask to fall asleep with David Shepherd, but here it was. The prince’s eyes were closed again. “What are you asking for, David?”

     David was literally nodding off, raising his head for a few seconds before it fell down again, his chin almost to his chest. He shrugged again and swallowed, his eyes closing. Even with Jack next to him - perhaps because Jack was next to him, lying side by side together like they were back in some ditch.

    “I want to stay safe.”

    “Then I’ll keep you safe,” Jack said, more asleep than awake. He would never remember saying it in the morning, or would argue he’d been trying to use his habitual (when had he started having habits with David) ‘be safe’ farewell. But his body was sleep-heavy against the soldier’s, face placid under the yellow lights.

    “I want to do good too. Like you want. We want that?” He was almost silent at this point, nearly unresponsive. David blinked a few times and swallowed again, looking up at the window and seeing that the sky had cleared and a few bright stars shone through the cracks in the moth-eaten curtains. He had a vague thought that he should possibly move onto the bed but he realized that he was warm and didn’t want to move at all. He swallowed and blinked, fighting to stay awake as he glanced at Jack, looking down at his face and trying to determine if the other man was asleep. Jack heard David, but he couldn’t answer him. It seemed an effort to raise his head, to open his eyes, to form real words.

Of course. We want that. You and me. Aloud, the prince made a soft sound, but otherwise didn’t react to David’s question. His breathing had lengthened already and there really wasn’t a reason to fight falling asleep. This was safe. A place they wouldn’t be found, a place no one was watching him. He could sleep, truly sleep, even though the floor was hard and the air in the room was chill and slightly damp. 

Broken Arrow

crownofbutterflies:

 

“Thanks,” Jack murmured, raising the bottle for another sip but lowering it before it touched his bottom lip. His lowered head, shoulders down that way…he looked as though there was a sudden crushing weight on him. Or maybe it was a weight that had been there for awhile, and something had reminded him it was there, letting it take advantage of his exhaustion to press down on him again. He shook his head, taking a sip before leaning forward and knocking the bottle against the side of David’s knee.

David looked up at him, eyebrows raised slightly, neck bent and shoulders hunched over. He was still struggling with the vast weight of responsibility he had realized a few months ago. The call to God and country. Jack swallowed, holding the bottle still against the side of his companion’s leg. He felt as though he couldn’t look away from David’s eyes. Tired eyes, the color of the sky just before twilight, brilliant blue but exhausted.

“Go on. It’s your turn.” He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite come out as nonchalant as he’d meant it to. “Let’s just polish it off, hmm?” He tapped David’s leg again. “I’ll respect you in the morning.”

David glanced up at Jack, smiled barely, his mouth twitching up as he took the bottle from the Prince. He held it up, eying the level of the alcohol and he shook his head.

“This may be a bad idea.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, lifting the bottle and taking another sip. Swallowing, he made a noise, leaning forwards again as the liquor hit him again. It was relentless. His head bent down, both hands on the bottle before he pushed it back towards the prince.

“Get it away from me.”

Jack laughed and shook his head as he accepted the bottle, swishing the scotch in the bottle before taking another sip himself.

“You’ll want another go. Come on. If you make me finish this myself, I’ll likely die of alcohol poisoning. At the least I’ll be throwing up all night and you won’t get any sleep.” He took a swig, a long big gulp, then held the bottle up to check the level. “Barely made a dent.” Jack held the bottle out to David, feeling the superior man again. The worldwise prince, unfazed by talk of visions and miracles and pressing a bottle of alcohol into good boy David’s hand.

He sat forward slightly, elbow on his knee and the other hand extended with the bottle. David took it from Jack and groaned. He shifted and sat on the ground again, looking up into Jack’s face and shaking his head.

“You know, if we don’t finish this nobody will know.” David said, rolling his shoulders back and taking another sip of the whiskey. He winced, squeezed his eyes shut and putting the bottle on his knee, cramped up by the short distance in between the two beds. “Really-”

A soft rolling thunder made its way through the room and David looked up, watching the curtained windows. He shook his head and took a deep breath.

“Where was that when we were talking about God, huh?” He joked, smiling a little more as he took a second sip of the whiskey. The thunder was building, starting to crack as the storm got closer to the hotel. Jack turned sharply towards the window, then the door, as though the storm was actually an uninvited guest to their meeting. He swallowed, looking back to David just as he was drinking. The lightning flashed behind the cheap curtains, giving the room a brief blue illumination that overrode the yellow of the bedside lamps.

“Apparently your signs and visions don’t have such great timing when you have a nonbeliever drinking with you.” He reached over and took the bottle from David. “Maybe thunder’s just thunder sometimes, huh, farm boy?” The tremor in his hand he attributed to how late it was and how much he’d drunk rather than the uncomfortable sensation that ran up his spine when the thunder caught up to the lightning.

“Maybe God has a sense of humor?” David said, smiling as he watched Jack with the bottle. The prince shook his head, though he smiled at the other man. David’s smile was easy to smile with.

“I guess he’d know that I used to be terrified of thunder.” He laughed a little, taking another sip before holding the scotch out to David. “It never bothered Michelle. Thunder meant Silas going off to battle. Off to war.” He raised his eyes to meet David’s. “What does thunder mean to you, David?”

Taking the bottle David watched Jack for a few more seconds. He knew that he wanted to ask more about how they grew up but he was a little afraid to pry too much into Jack’s life. Everyone in Shiloh seemed to know everything about Jack but it seemed strange that David was so removed when he had saved Jack’s life at least twice. That didn’t matter at all.

“It means it’s going to rain.” He said, smiling and taking the whiskey. David took a deep breath and shook his head, steeling himself. In one more long sip David finished off the bottle, turning and coughing into his elbow. His shoes’ grip against the other bed slipped and he fell onto the floor, laughing.

“God, Jack.” David put the bottle above his head and pushed it away, as it rolled towards the wall the rain started to fall and another crack of thunder lit up the room in a strange glow. He turned his head towards the door, still splayed on the ground. “I can’t even sit up after that.”.

Jack had reached for the soldier when he slipped, but he was already on the floor by the time his reflexes got his hand anywhere near David. He laughed, surprising himself by how natural it was, how he was laughing at him and laughing with him. He watched the bottle roll along the floor, the uneven floor apparently tilting the whole room towards the window. David’s arm was above his head, hand curled slightly, and Jack noticed it, noticed those stupid small things even as he unsteadily stood up and could barely keep his own balance. It was as though the room’s tilt had extended to his vision, and that was funny too. Every time he laughed, he surprised himself, and laughing right now, he couldn’t tell sometimes if it was him or David.

    “If I had a bank account to fill up for every time I…” He laughed harder and shook his head, trying to step past David’s legs to retrieve the bottle. That small movement was too much and he tried to sit back on the bed again. Which didn’t work either and he slid down against the side of the bed, crouching a bit awkwardly.

    David laughed, watching Jack try to move through the small, cramped room. He put a hand over his mouth, stifling his laughter and ran his hand through his hair, keeping it behind his neck, tilting his head up to get a better look at Jack. Jack looked down at David, crouching down close enough to touch him. Touch his hair, his face.

    He kept his hands to himself.

    “I was going to make fun of you, but I don’t know if I can get up now that I’m down here.” He laughed again. “And I’m sort of stuck like this; I don’t know if I can sit down either. I’m just…sort of crouched.” One hand was on the bed, and it was the only thing keeping him balanced at all.

    David shook his head and put his hand out for Jack.

    “Either help me up or just sit.”

    “If I take your hand,” the prince returned sardonically, watching David’s fingers, “I’m pretty sure that’s just going to end up with me on top of you when I try to help you up.” He slid one foot out and let himself down to sit on the floor, then reached over and shoved David’s hand. “I think we should just stay down before we embarrass ourselves.”

David chuckled, shaking his head, closing his eyes. He put his hand back on his chest and shifted a little bit, rolling his shoulders back.

“This is not as comfortable as the bed. We should get back in bed. Give me like ten minutes. Maybe I won’t care by then” David smiled, looked over at Jack, raising a hand and put it over his eyes. “Ten minutes and I’ll be out, I think.” He muttered and shifted, leaning against the bed and pulling himself up into a sitting position.

    Jack watched him with a slight smile, as though amused by every word he said. He rubbed his hand on his upraised knee, the fine material of the suit (not a new suit, one he’d had for awhile that his father’s tailor had taken in to make it seem less like he no longer belonged in suits like this) dusty from the floor and the ride here on David’s motorcycle.

    “The bed’s not really that much more comfortable than the floor,” Jack pointed out. David shrugged his eyes still closed. The prince took a deep breath and leaned his head back. The ceiling was just a ceiling again, the stains no more easy to divine than the pattern in his tie. “Besides…once we’re up we’re going to have to fight over which bed belongs to whom.”

    “Whoever gets on whatever bed first.” David said, shifting and putting his arm over the mattress, hoisting himself up a bit more to sit up a little straighter. “Both look sub par.”

    ”I’d say I want to test each one first, but I don’t know if my princely person could get up once I do settle.” Jack tapped his foot on the floor, the sound at once solid and empty. He leaned forward to untie his shoelaces, pulling his knee up to his chest as he did. David watched the prince, his eyes growing heavy from liquor and travel. It hadn’t been an easy drive. Even after Jack had loosened the laces, he stayed in that position, chin resting on his knee as he looked at David, past David, towards the window where the lightning illuminated the cheap pattern more than the flickering light outside the motel door did.

    “I think I could sleep on the floor,” Jack finally said honestly, looking back at David. The other man nodded, eyes still closed as he lay on the dirty carpet. “If it wasn’t so cold in here.” He clasped his hands over his ankle, the forgotten shoelaces lying limp against the floor.

    David made a drunken noise and shifted a little, bracing his feet on the carpet and pushing himself up so that he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with the prince. He put his feet on the other bed’s frame and laughed when it slid a few inches.

    “Shit. Sorry.” He gestured and glanced over at Jack, gesturing at the bed across from him. “That’s your bed.”

    Jack laughed, looking over at David and meeting his pale sky eyes. The bed made a loud, almost grunting sound of complaint as it moved and it was funny to him, much funnier than it would be sober. Funnier than it would have been a year ago, even with a few drinks in him.

    “Are you saying that because now it’s further away?” He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “Soldiers these days. They’re loyal almost to a fault, then they make you crawl halfway to the next town over to get into bed.” He bumped his shoulder against David’s, making no move to get up. And making no move to give back those few inches of space that had been between them. “David…what do you want to do when you get back?” He spoke more quietly, the serious question poking its way through the fog of his mind.