Thirty-One Bells: [Action/Written]

[simplestgift]

[It’s been over a month since Archie Kennedy died and had his worst fears realized.

It’s been over a month since his first seizure in almost eight years.

Ever since, he has barely left the house, barely spoken to anyone. But last night, he opened the window before falling asleep. Somehow, it made all the difference.

In the prison at Ferrol, it had been a drink of water, soothing his parched mouth and throat and letting him sleep easier so he woke hungry. Eating strengthened him, and he slept even better after breakfast, waking with the strength to live the rest of the day. Little by little, small things, and most of all Horatio, had coaxed him back into health and the belief that things can be good again.

Today, it’s the sun and a light breeze waking him after a long sleep. Fresh spring air and the promise of warm light make him want to leave the house at last. So after showering, shaving, and trimming his hair, he dresses in something decidedly civilian but still native to his period and steps outside.

Anyone who sees him as he wanders the village, if they knew him before, will notice he has lost a good ten or fifteen pounds in the last month, and is pale as a ghost. Others might see how loosely his clothing fits him. Provided no one intercepts him and makes him eat first, he starts at Seventh Heaven with a hearty breakfast platter, regaining his appetite as he replenishes the nutrients in his body. Feeling much better, he heads to the barracks for some shooting practice, then his own backyard to try to get back in shape with swordplay. The drills Jack taught him are even more exhausting now than they were when he first started, but the exercise feels good for about half an hour.

After another shower and a quick library trip, by which point he has reached a somewhat manic state (he’ll be going back and forth between manic and depressive in the months to come), he walks out of the grocery store with what seems to be enough food to feed Kent (or possibly Rhode Island, if you’re American). He then spends the rest of the afternoon cooking up a Proper British Dinner on board the Britannia the way Jack Aubrey used to do. A simple message alerts his housemates, James Norrington, and, as an afterthought, Richard Sharpe, to dinner in the captain’s cabin right around four o’clock, promising wine, cider, and brandy, steak and turnip pie (but not for you, William), salmagundi, lobster, spinage toasts, a shoulder of beef, asparagus, mushroom catsup (which resembles Worcestershire sauce), a spiced steamed pudding, and peach tarts with heavy cream. The leftovers, he will take to Jack Sparrow at his house.

Boy needed a calling. This may as well be it.

After cleaning up and washing the dishes and an impromptu nap in the grass behind his house with an open book on his chest, he thinks he has finally worked up the courage to visit Jilly at House 7 and Buffy at Good Spirits and write a message to Amelia McFly to meet him somewhere. Time to come clean about some things. Telling Horatio about recent events lifted a huge weight from his chest, so maybe telling everyone else will enable him to fly.

Lastly, he writes a message to Elizabeth Swann to meet him behind house 36 and to wear something comfortable. When she arrives, there will be a campfire in the backyard, and Archie will have a bottle of whisky and makings for s’mores.

Feel free to run into him at any point during the day. Housemates can catch him in the morning and late at night as well as at dinner.]

Comments

[herotypical]

Buffy shook her head. But: "...I keep hoping. Which is probably something I shouldn't be admitting."

[simplestgift]

"He's been here before. I can hardly blame you for hoping. I had a room furnished for Horatio for months before he turned up."

[herotypical]

"Will's here again. It almost seems wrong that Xander's not with us."

[simplestgift]

"Give it time." He swallows, letting the tides of vodka carry him into a disconnect between his thoughts and emotions. "Not that you have a choice."

[herotypical]

"...Not yet."

[simplestgift]

"Yet?"

[herotypical]

Although she missed the first time, Buffy eventually taps the side of her nose: "A girl has dreams."

[simplestgift]

"Dreams of?"

[herotypical]

"Of...hmm. Of having a choice, in every dusty corner of her life."

[simplestgift]

"Power over time?"

[herotypical]

"Mmm. Sorta. More like...over our futures. Here. Here's not bad, Archie. But it's not ours."

[simplestgift]

A long hesitation.

"Buffy, I...gave up everything. Everything I didn't give up, I lost. And I came here, and...I have it again. Every bit of it. It hasn't been of special concern that I have anything else. What I have, it...it could be taken away at any moment, and I don't wish to spend the rest of it fighting to have more. I don't need more. So I suppose I don't...understand."

[herotypical]

So she tried to help him understand. Except she was very very drunk and her cognitive connections were specious at best while sober.

Buffy blurted: "Jack had his treasure map tattoo removed. Erased. Abandoned."

[simplestgift]

He glances up in alarm.

"What?"

He'd known it to be as hopeless a dream as any, but for Jack to give up on it, to give up so utterly as to be open with it...

[herotypical]

"After his last mission," she shook her head as she spoke. She felt a little ill. That could've been the vodka, though. "And I know it's nothing like life or death or existing beyond here -- nothing like what you deal with on what I'm guessing is a daily basis, but..."

She slumped against the counter. "But we've got things that could be taken away in any moment, too. You! You could get taken away from me -- I could blink," she closed her eyes for a moment and in that moment she looked expressly sad, "and you could be gone."

Green eyes fixed on him again. "And I can't survive that knowledge without fighting it. Wh-whether it's keeping Jack or you or never going back to a world where Giles is going to die. And I just wanna take massive jumps forward in this fight and..."

And Jack taking away his tattoo was a little like watching the man she loved take a massive leap backward.

[simplestgift]

He shushes her gently, reaching out to capture her hand. "Of course you will. It's what you do." He hesitates. "And if...if I can help, tell me."

[herotypical]

Giving her hands over to him was simple. Easy. Natural.

"Someday? I'll probably need it. Your help."

[simplestgift]

He squeezes her hand. He doubts she'll ever need anything from him, specifically, but he doesn't want to start an argument. His lips part, his eyes drop and blink in thought for a moment as he chooses his words, then looks straight at her.

"When you do, I promise you I shall be here."

[herotypical]

Her fingers flex against his skin.

"Careful. Making promises to Slayers..." But in a haze of alcohol and love, she offered a bare smile. "It might not be so bad, in the end. Actually. Jack's made a promise of his own. To help, sorta. To not stand in my way when the General shows his face again and the time comes."

[simplestgift]

"And you know he means to?"

[herotypical]

"...Show his face again?"

Or she wondered if Archie meant to ask about Jack keeping his promise.

[simplestgift]

"I meant Jack not standing in your way, but that, as well."

[herotypical]

"I think Jack understands that he can't stop me. He's asked that I show mercy and knock him out, when I go." But Buffy felt, now, as though she would want him at her side.

"As for the General? I'm counting on it."

[simplestgift]

"Is that wise?"

[herotypical]

"Albert thinks so," she blurted. "I think so. Even if we can't trust what anyone tells us, I wanna hear more of the other side. The Third Party side -- not so I can believe them but so I have anything to compare to what the Organization tells us."