simplestgift | Thirty-One Bells: [Action/Written]

[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.]

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{It doesn't make up for hitting him and insulting him, but the last sentence is close enough to an apology that some tension leaves his jaw.]

You were hardly encouraging me to trust you with it.

[Except the remark makes Amelia's eyes narrow.]

I thought you'd been taken for an experiment. And besides that, I agreed not to tell one of my best friends that I'd found you. What else was I supposed to do? Break down in tears?

Perhaps if you'd held your tongue instead of insulting me for something you knew nothing about?

You were practically naked, wandering around in the cold rain. I called you an idiot for it. Kennedy, I would've called anyone an idiot for doing something that dumb. You had plenty of chances to correct me.

Besides, I also made you get inside, got you coffee and blankets, and would've--[Amelia cringes, remembering her internal debate over sharing a blanket to give Archie the extra body heat.]--gotten closer to you if you hadn't stopped shivering.

[He holds her in his gaze for a second, then his eyes drop. He remembers loving her, and that only makes things more awkward. He remembers she didn't even want to hold his hand.]

Don't think I'm ungrateful, but does it give you the excuse to sock me in the face?

[Stretching his jaw a bit. It's going to leave a bruise.]

No. Which is why I didn't hit you then.

[Words that may have come out a bit too matter-of-factly, but it's the truth.

But then he looks away, and Amelia presses her lips together in a tight line. She has those memories too.]

You just told me you died.

But I told you. [His voice goes soft as he starts, somewhat, to understand her position. She cares. He doesn't like how she shows it, but she cares. That's always...strange, to find out, and makes him feel like he's lying to her.] That isn't easy for me to do.

I know. [That he had made clear, that day in the Welcome Center. Amelia turns he gaze toward the river.] I wasn't mad because you told me.

Why, then?

[Amelia can't help it. She laughs a little, though the sound lacks real joy. Still, Archie deserves what she's going to say next.]

Idiot. I'm mad because you died.

[There's a pause.]

Lightning struck. I wasn't the only one who fell.

[Amelia nods slowly.]

I'm sorry.

[He wasn't expecting that. He closes his eyes and huffs out a breath.]

Nothing you could've done.

No. [Amelia's rational enough to accept that much, at least.] Still. You're okay now?

[She hopes.]

[There's a long, long hesitation.]

Yes. And no. Some days are better than others. [A moment of rapid blinking, then his tone goes dry.] If I don't tell you what my penalty is, you're not going to sock me again, are you?

Depends. Is it something I should be prepared for in case it happens around me?

[At least she's honest about it.]

Most probably.

Then you're most probably going to end up hit if that happens.

[But she shrugs, and doesn't really push.] If it makes you feel better, you can try and hit me back.

I don't think I could hit a woman.

Even one that hit you first?

[Can Archie guess what Amelia thinks of that? Should be obvious.]

I'm not saying you'd land your punch. But you won't even try?

[He thinks. Then shakes his head.]

I tried with one alone. I don't...normally hit people I like.

Not hitting me because we're friends isn't the same thing as not hitting me because I'm a woman.

It's both. [He swallows.] The only woman I ever hit was trying to kill me.

...and if you hadn't hit her, I would've hit you again.

[Which is to say, Amelia approves of Archie defending himself.]

Alright. Since that isn't going to happen, I guess I can let it go. You should at least try and block next time though. You're lucky you didn't bleed.

[Judging from the angry welt on his face, he's going to bruise. But he shrugs.]

We're taught not to harm a woman. Any man taught otherwise is a coward and a scoundrel at the very least, as women are scarcely taught to defend themselves.

[He can't quite meet her eyes, like he's ashamed of his own time period, for once.]

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