Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Six a.m., heavy fog, calm sea

Finishing his paper work with the new chief officer, who was here to take his place, he gathered up his belongings from his cabin and left this ship for good.

Now he was here, back at home, he winced hearing himself think that, he didn’t have a home. He was put on this earth to wander around, to never belong anywhere or to someone it seemed. He was looking at the dark waters from near the edge of the port, fighting the urge to disappear into the arms of the sea. It would be a cold embrace, wouldn’t it? He wasn’t fond of the cold, though when he was a little child he wanted to be a polar explorer, where did that come from?

Tom was around, which is surprising since he was a true sailor, never at ease on land. He weighed on his options of 1) staying at a cheap hotel till he hears from the trade company about a job or 2) stay at Tom’s place. He surprised himself by choosing the latter, even though he actually would like to be on his own miserable company. He needed a good sleep, but he didn’t think he could even manage an hour of it.

Tom’s place was homely even though he himself almost never was home. He had a key of his own from the time Tom first bought the flat. Outside a sweet shade of blue coloured the sky, buildings obscured by the persistent fog and hiding away the lives of many people. Quietly he got inside, Tom’s room door was ajar, snoring could be heard. He laid down on the couch, monsters coming back to him immediately when he closed his eyes.

He was drowning, wasn’t he?

Something was pulling him down and down

It was so cold in here

He jumped from the couch scaring Tom, who was pouring breakfast coffee to mugs.

“Well, thanks old man.”

He laughed, getting a tissue paper to clean the coffee stain from the table.Despite his bad mood Francis laughed a bit too,

“Sorry.”

His voice cranky, probably because of sleep but actually because he hasn’t been talking much lately. It seemed being here helped him to sleep a little, he was grateful to all the little shuteye he can get.

“You look terrible, truly Francis.” He said trying to conceal his concern with a humorous tone. Not being able to sleep properly had its effects, and being lazy had its long hair and unshaven beard effects.

“Thomas Blanky, such a great detective you are!” Francis mocked him, he won’t say that but he missed him. Getting up from the couch was a mistake apparently, all his bones and muscles ached, it was so hard to just relax and rest even in the house of his close friend. Maybe coffee would solve his problems.

“Your hand Francis!” Tom exclaimed, yes there was that. A punishment for a mistake that wasn’t even his own. He sighed, covering his scarred left hand with his old and battered sweater.

“What happened Francis? I haven’t heard any news.” 

Well, nothing much he thought, just that almost, almost ending up as food for creatures of the deep. Almost dying, nothing much.

“Accepting this job offer was a mistake Tom.” He muttered, dejected. Sipping his coffee, it was all he was going to say for now. Tom knew him, he didn’t press on the subject.

 𓅯

Days were monotone, mornings were cool and misty, leaves slowly shedding their greens. He didn’t go out, he wanted to but there was a dark weight on him, tiring him out and chocking him. He was drinking a lot again, before this job he tried to give it up completely, but now there was either alcohol, or his mind talking to him. He willingly chose the first.

For sometime, Tom didn’t say a word on it, but one morning he had some ideas and plans. The last thing Francis needed.

“I heard from a friend of a friend, there is some birdwatchers planning to go trekking in Epping Forest.”

Francis sighed, Tom was thinking of the other Francis, the one who loved nature and science, one who was an explorer of sorts seeing world with bright eyes. But not this Francis, this one was a chief officer of an old ship, with anger issues and depression. He had no time for an old dream of his. Tom continued talking, not caring about Francis’ reactions.

“It is arranged by a zoology lecturer..”

Francis got up to go and be miserable in another room. Tom stoped him,

“Come on man, try it, change of air will do you good.”

      𓅯
     

He was terribly late to the damn thing. This was his genius tactic for when he didn’t want to go somewhere.

Even through his tired eyes he could appreciate the scenery of the forest. Trees were different from one another just like humans. Some already lost their leaves when some were still green with life. It was such beautiful scenery and so different from the view of grey buildings, out of Tom’s window that for a moment he forgot his anxieties and fears. Someone like him must look so out of place in a beautiful backdrop like this, he thought.

He finally found a group of people walking that he thought must be the birdwatchers. At the back of the group a pretty brunette saw him and while smiling she said

“Hello, here for trekking meeting?” with a cheerful voice that sounded genuine, to Francis' surprise. He nodded and kept walking, here for the birds, not for making friends. He cursed himself for being such a bum sometimes.

“My name is Anne and I’m one of the lecturers here, may I ask your name?” Such a sweet girl,younger than him.

“Francis Crozier.” He says in a rather grumpy way, hoping that she leaves him alone after that.

“Nice to meet you Francis, I shall be over there with James if you have a question or anything.”

She walked to the front of the group, Francis observed the people in the group mostly people in their 40s and 50s and… mostly women. Francis understood why that was when he looked at the front of the group. There walking, the handsomest man he has ever seen, with silky ginger hair pass his ears and a pretty side profile   …wait silky? pretty?  Damn you Tom, did Tom plan this?

That must be the James, Anne mentioned. Conversing easily with people around him, smiling a lot. He was wearing a light blue fleece jacket, which matched well with his hair colour. Francis could hear his voice a bit from where he was, behind the group, soft but firm, carried away with the breeze and reaching Francis. He thought, he must stop looking at the man now, if there is one thing about Francis it is the fact that he was incapable of being loved. So pathetic but true. He remembered Sophia, now only a memory, he didn’t dwell on it anymore, he accepted what kinda person he was already.

The person who said going to a nature walk could help with depression, was a liar. Here was the real-life proof that is himself. He was deeply lost in thought now that he only walked as if on auto pilot. He didn’t even realize someone was there in front of him. He cursed under his breath when he collided with someone and when he looked up and came face to face with that pretty man. He cursed again but only in his head since he was frozen under the soft blue gaze of the man. Only then Francis realized how much he stayed behind the group, two of them were alone on the path.

Just when he was going to apologize for bumping into him, the man spoke.

“Francis, right?” Francis nodded while he kept talking “Francis, I noticed you were walking behind so I wanted to check on you, everything alright?”

He never turned his gaze away from Francis, which was the worst thing ever for Francis, and even worse, hearing his name from this man’s pretty mouth was too much.

“It's alright, I’m just not the greatest walker out there, that is.” He said turning his head to the sky, to the trees, anywhere but his pretty face. He kept walking, but James was chatty apparently.

“Ah me too." he laughed a bit "I’m actually a slow walker cause there is so much to look at.” He said voice as soft as velvet, unhurried. Francis felt the smallest tinge of calm in his chest, he wanted to hear his voice more.

“...and I forgot to introduce myself,”

He ran his hand through his long hair, making Francis follow his movements for a sec …oh no he was looking again.

“I’m James Ross, I’m one of the lecturers, you already met Anne.” gesturing to where Anne was, he then stopped walking and offered his hand for a handshake. Francis took James Ross’ hand in his, James’ grip was firm but his hand felt soft and warm and it was gone too soon. Francis wanted to feel his warm skin more and more.

While walking James kept making conversations with him, or he tried to since Francis was answering with only one or two words and wasn’t asking questions back. Even though he burned with the need to learn more about this man, he didn’t need another heartbreak.

      𓅯
     

His defense mechanism of keeping to himself and being grumpy wasn’t working well on James Ross. It was as if the man took that as a challenge and he kept talking to Francis, introducing him to everyone in the group. Maybe if he wasn’t such a charming man Francis could hate him but he really was like that. Francis in this short span of time with the group, saw that James Ross was a true leader, he was confident, cheerful and good with communication, he was kind and understood how to deal with different people. A shinning beacon, he was. So different from Francis, with the darkness he carried on his back.

Francis though, was determined on not making friends, these people won’t be seeing him again. So he watched his birds, alright, took his notes and photographs. Robins, chaffinches, blackbirds, jays and many more. He especially was proud with his photography skills. But he still wished this day to be finally over.

Though, spending time in the forest didn’t solve his problems magically. Maybe having James in bed with him could be helpful, he allowed himself a little scenario in his head, in which he could be held and cared for. When it was finally getting late and people were saying their goodbyes to each other, he watched James and Anne, they were close, he can tell. Maybe they were dating, no way such a pretty people were single.

He looked at James Ross’ smiling face one last time, it was nice to meet such a great person and now it was time to turn to his own life and habits. Because he turned his back and quickly walked away as to not be seen by the group, he didn’t see James Ross was watching him go.

Chapter Text

Calamus, Rachis, Scapus, Ramus, Radius, Radiolus, Veksillum

Anatomy of a feather, a shaft and vane

He was watching a fluffy down feather of a bird, slowly making its descent. Like watching snow fall. Next, a stronger breeze took it away, together with some brownish leaves. He had been watching the sky outside their office in the faculty, procrastinating on grading these first-year student’s papers.

“Hey, watch out!”

A chocolate bar hit his chest, surprising him. He laughed along with Edward who threw the chocolate. Edward continued to speak, while munching on chocolate

“Have you heard?” stopping to chew “faculty of art going to do some kind of festival.”

James shook his head as a no, lately because of starting to teach a class he was busy and tired all the time, and if he thought more on it, he might also admit that, he was unhappy as well. Not because he didn’t like his major but because now he was stuck here, maybe being a teacher was a mistake after all.

“They plan on like …a gallery of sorts, out in the Greenwich Park and, I thought maybe you would like to join in with your drawings.”

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to, he had all this work to procrastinate on, already.

“Maybe, a change of air would be nice.” He said instead.

﹏𓊝﹏

Above, somewhere in the oak tree, a robin was singing his song rather loudly. A warm breeze left behind by summer rustled the leaves. Crowd that gathered around the gallery stands was busy enough to not hear the nature.

James was sitting behind one of the stands, beside him a student who looked like she stole a lot of necklaces from the store and while running had to wear them all. Her drawings consisted of crude shapes and splashes like a weird mix of Pollock and Picasso. He wasn’t fond of either artist. His drawings were of the seas and tall ships, he loved pale watercolours and shades of blue. A homage to the oceans he always wished to conquer.

He spotted Edward and one of his friends, who was a medical student, Harry Goodsir. There was another a bit older looking man, he saw for the first time, walking with them. He had salt and pepper hair, ear length and was wearing a dark blue sailor cap. His name was Thomas Blanky a friend of Harry's and he really liked James’ paintings, unfortunately James wasn’t selling anything. After the festival day was over, Mr. Blanky invited them to a pub, that he was a regular in.

It was a strange feeling sitting in this crowded pub, close to a window that had a crack, letting the colder evening weather in, listening to curious sea stories from Mr. Blanky. Who was a good, animated story teller, that pulled you in the real story with him. Standing on a broken ship deck, when waves crashed down on you and you tried to run for your life. His uncle used to say that sea won’t have you playing games with her, if you aren’t serious, you are dead.

Mr. Blanky spoke of a dear friend of his, with such fondness in his voice, whom he sailed many times with. Said friend was a chief officer, and a great one at that. Now was almost his time to get promoted to a Captain and command his ship, giving his own orders. Name Francis Crozier, who, recently returned from a voyage around Cape Horn. Mr. Blanky seemed to be a very experienced and honest sailor, listening to him talk about this friend of his made James wonder what the friend was like in real life.

Outside, it started to rain, warm coloured lights of passing cars was filtering through the rain drop stained glass, James imagined a man strong and firm both in character and in physique, with his pale blond hair and blue eyes as a contrast.

Learning the said friend was also interested in Naturalism and loved taking photos of birds and such was actually a surprising delight to James. While leaving the pub, he invited Mr. Blanky to a trekking meeting for birdwatching of sorts that was happening in some time later. Not because he thought Mr. Blanky would be interested in that but maybe he would tell it to a friend that could be interested instead.

﹏𓊝﹏

Epping Forest was a delight around this time of year, at least for James. Who didn’t mind getting mud on his shoes or trousers, after some autumn rain. More people than he expected had turned up, while Anne was doing introductions, he looked around in a little hope of finding Francis Crozier. Well, he wasn’t here.

The group started walking, he didn’t questioned why he was so curious about a person he didn’t even see a photo of in the first place. Maybe it was the fact that Francis Crozier seemed so different from him. And so far away from where James was stuck here, wishing he could …just go away, wander around, explore. Maybe it was selfish to dream such a dream when he already had a great life now, but that feeling of regret over something that wasn’t chosen, that feeling of “what if” was so persistent.

He looked behind the leaf covered path one more time for him. Maybe, Francis Crozier not being here was better.

Well, he was grateful about the attention the trekking got, but according to cheeky comments from Anne the trekking wasn’t what interested most of the ladies here. But someone else instead, why would people come all this way to walk just because they thought he was handsome? Absurd. But who was he to judge when he was the one waiting on a man he only heard stories of.

Some minutes later, he looked behind again to this time actually see the man, Francis Crozier himself. That made him stop in his tracks for a sec. It was easy to recognize him based on Mr. Blanky’s description, but much to his pleasure he found out that the man was much more attractive than he imagined. Now Anne was talking to the man, he saw her gesturing towards the front, mentioning him. He kept chatting with people around him for a while, answered questions. Unfortunately, people were being rather loud, considering this was a birdwatching event, he tried to speak quietly as much as he can to not scare away birds.

There were some more minutes before arriving the watching spot, he turned around to find that Francis Crozier disappeared, or more like disappeared in his thoughts and fell behind the group, he had his head hung low, looking at the ground while walking.

“Everyone, please excuse me, looks like one of us fell behind the rest of the group.” he said while slipping away to reach the man.

In fact he was so much lost in thought that he didn’t even see James was standing on his way, bumping into him. James didn’t get out of his way, for some reason. James knew the moment Francis Crozier lift his head to look at him, that he was fucked. He knew he would let this man do anything he wanted to him, preferably in bed. Watching him, his shiny blond hair was falling on his eyes, he had a beard that James thought really suited his face. With a feeling of warmness in his chest he spoke,

“Francis, right?” I know you Francis, in fact I want to get to know you more

“Francis, I noticed you were walking behind so I wanted check on you, everything alright?” he said trying to sound nonchalant as much as he can.

“It's alright, I’m just not the greatest walker out there that is.” Oh the way he was dragging some of his syllables and his accent, James thought he should make the man speak more.

“Ah me too, I’m actually a slow walker cause there is so much to look at.”

He watched Francis, he seemed to be far away, he looked as if he didn’t want to be here in the first place. James felt a bit sad after thinking that, this man before him looked like a different person than how Mr.Blanky described him. Sure, he looked strong and stood tall, but there was a look of melancholy in his blue eyes that made James curious about his story. Who was he really?

“And I forgot to introduce myself,” of course he did, get yourself together James, he thought to himself while he ran his hand through his hair. He saw the way Francis’ eyes followed his movement and how he quickly looked away.

“I’m James Ross, I’m one of the lecturers, you already met Anne.” He stopped to offer his hand to him. He was met with strong and calloused hands, hands of a captain. He wanted to have Francis’ hands all over him and—

he quickly withdrew his hand to stop that train of thought.

﹏𓊝﹏

It was hard to make conversations with him, Francis only answered in few words and seemed reluctant to even introduce himself to people. He hid oceans behind his eyes, stormy oceans. When Francis was taking photographs, James saw his left hand, scarred, it looked like a deep scar recovering. Then he realized how Francis had been hiding his hand in his pocket while they were walking too.

One small detail he could pull out of him was his favourite bird, a chaffinch. He asked why to get no answers, and no question back either.

James watched him go, turning his back, leaving this place he didn’t want to be in at all, behind. Even if James felt a bitterness in his chest, who was he to Francis? to feel such a feeling for being left behind by him.

Chapter Text

Sun was setting, it began to drizzle. Francis got off the bus, to walk to Tom’s. He passed many people on the pavement, so many different lives. He found the flat empty, thought that maybe Tom was at the pub. Just then, he saw a little post-it note on the refrigerator, it said, in Tom’s messy scrawl:

“Got a call from the ship company! Flat is all yours ;)”

He looked at the note for some time, confused. Not because of how quick it was for Tom to pack and leave of course, but it was the line under the "yours" and the apparently, winking smiley. Now he was sure that Tom set him up for this thing. Alright, Tom knew him and he knew he would be interested in the ginger but… would the ginger be interested in him? Now that was the question Tom didn’t think about for sure. Pass that, the guy already had a girlfriend it seemed. Unfortunately, until Tom phoned him from his destination, he had to wait to confront his friend about his matchmaking skills.

He was so tired and hungry from all the walking of the day, he made himself a quick dinner to get it over with and right after that, thought he might fall asleep. Because he was very exhausted, maybe that could be like a cheat code to trick his mind to sleep… of course it didn’t work.

He spent the night listening to Tom’s records as he smoked as usual. It was passing four that, he finally fell asleep, to a restless sleep.

 𓅯

Finding jobs in his line of work could be hard. You are usually at the mercy of the ship company and whenever they need, they can call you. Which was okay for Francis at the moment, he could go and ask the company for news too but he really, really didn’t want to do that.He knew he wasn’t created to be away from the seas too much but he wanted to give himself some time to recover or well… if you call what he was doing recovering.

In his head he was still so angry at Franklin, that was a man so stubborn that he couldn’t even see disaster when it looked at him in the eyes. He was determined to never accept jobs if Franklin was involved again.

With these thoughts occupying his mind and despite his general restlessness, today he went out for a walk again. Maybe it was true that going out helped with depression, even though it actually felt like he was forcefully dragging himself around.

He walked around near the Thames, looking longingly at many varied sailing boats at the anchorage. The thing about Merchant Vessel captains was that, they always wished to have a sailing boat like this to sail the oceans. Usually when they gather together, one of them would mention how when he retires he is“gonna built his own”. Even though it didn’t mean you were going to be a “good sailor” just because you graduated maritime academy. Francis was not different from the others, he even had some boat plans of his own.

He was admiring one of the yachts now, that was called Victory, she was a sloop around 32ft height and was in pristine condition. And the man on the deck was also in pristine condition, Francis noted, he had long hair and...

Apparently, Francis was in a rom-com, there was no other explanation for the fact that he came across James Ross, by chance. He stood there, frozen watching this handsome man.The wind was in his hair, he seemed so at ease while sitting on the deck of the sloop. Even his girlfriend was there with him, Francis felt the smallest bit of jealousy, he ignored that and turned to speed walk to his depression den.

But then, he heard his name being called. Because of the fact that he burned James Ross’ soft voice into his mind, he knew immediately who was calling him. What choice he had at the moment? 1) ignore the handsome man, be miserable 2) don’t ignore the handsome man, be miserable.

He turned slowly to look, James Ross was very agile it seemed, he already sprinted to Francis' side. Cold wind colouring his cheeks red, making him look ..cute. Francis smiled at him and shook his hand, this time it wasn’t gone too quickly, he enjoyed the feel of it. James Ross also looked surprised, mirroring his own reaction.

“Francis, we met again!”

“Yes …what a coincidence ..James.” He could hear James say his name everyday and he wouldn’t get bored, he knew. James let go of his hand and gesturing for the sloop said,

“Please, let me offer you some coffee or tea, whatever you like.”

He made a move as if to walk to the sloop, waiting for Francis to follow but Francis backed away, while looking anywhere but James Ross’ face he said,

“No actually, I have some things to do and …I shouldn’t interrupt your and your girlfriend's fun.”

He smiled politely and quickly turned away to go. James Ross didn't try to stop him, he let him go. She really was his girlfriend then.

𓅯

Since going outdoors was good for health, he decided to take his hobbies outside too. That’s why this evening, a few days later from the encounter with James Ross, he went to the pub he and Tom liked to go.

Today it rained the whole day, stopping only recently, and the weather started to get even colder now, making the windows of the pub fog up. He put out his cigarette and pushed the door open. Inside, it was busy as ever, causing a strange sense of intimacy as people had to sit closer.

He was waiting for his whisky when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around expecting a friend when he was met with James Ross.

His hand still on his shoulder. They looked at each other, a moment hung in time, behind the whisky was here, around them, there was a whirl of motion that was not interesting enough to look away. The air in the pub was suddenly too hot for him. Dropping his hand from Francis’ shoulder, he asked with a grin,

“Can I sit with you or are you going to run away again, Francis?”

“Yeah.. you can.” Clearing his throat, he gestured for him to sit. “I didn’t run away, I was busy.”

Francis could smell a bit of his perfume, a fresh citrusy fragrance. He felt as if a warm breeze from the Mediterranean reached here, passing around the two of them.

James Ross looked at him, raising his brow,

“It’s ok, you can make it up to me now.” He said while leaning into Francis, with a glint in his eye.

Was he flirting? With Francis? James Ross continued to speak,

“In fact, I …ah actually wanted to correct something.” His voice was low, causing Francis to lean into him, they were in their own bubble in the crowded pub.

“Me and Anne, we aren’t a couple.”

Oh

He must have been looking too surprised that, it made James Ross laugh light-heartedly. He was beautiful, Francis felt a tightness in his chest. Could be possible that a man like James, love him?

“James, why are you here?” He was nothing but distant and rude to him since they met, he was so stuck on his problems and heartbreaks, isolating himself. Why would anyone want to spend time with him?

“Well, I thought I would tell you about my favourite bird.”

Francis smiled, he recalled the time James asked him his favourite bird. Was it a friendship offer?

Maybe, he could take a break from isolating himself for a while.

Chapter Text

(Dream of a lifetime) come true

I picked up your vibes, you know (I'm having a fine time)

It opened my mind but I'm still dreaming

Yeah (yeah, oh)

And you're right where I found you, with my arms around you (oh baby)

5 a.m., heavy rain and empty streets.

Francis was almost asleep, with Tom’s record now repeating its final lyrics in the background. He got up and put the record back to its place, the messy bookshelf. It contained many things– photos of him and Tom together in different parts of the world, Tom’s books about the polar regions, Francis' identification books on birds and nature, his sailboat plans, a snow globe with a polar bear inside.

He took the book on seabird identification, opened the page to an Arctic Tern.

“So, what is it then?”

“An Arctic Tern, you know, they have the longest migration route, very great navigators.”

He remembered the childlike wonder in James’ voice, how his eyes shone when he was talking that evening, about his interests. He inspired Francis. Now he marked the page, with a sticky note.

﹏𓊝﹏

That night after leaving the pub, they walked a bit in the dark streets. Francis found it easy to talk to James, he allowed himself to have the same wonder for the world, as him. For a while, not letting monsters reach to them. He wanted to be his best self now – for James, to let this shinning beacon guide the sinking ships of his mind, out of the storm.

Tom’s flat was close by, if it was someone else maybe Francis would kiss them now, take them home. But he stopped himself, wanted to give time to himself and James. He knew it was because, he found a friend now that he didn’t want to ruin their connection by being hasty.

He wanted to enjoy this thing between them.

Though he still lingered, he looked at James in the eye– James didn’t break eye contact. It would have been so easy to reach out to him then, to hold and to not let go. But, then James was saying good bye.

Now after that night, they had been regularly meeting every day.

He learned that, that sloop belonged to his uncle, he actually never gets along with, that he always wanted to learn to sail, explore the world but he never did. That he painted, always with blues and whites even though his favourite colour was red. That he liked coffee more than tea and that he liked teaching but grading papers was hell, always taking so long to complete.

One of those days, they were at Greenwich Park– now autumn was turning into winter and there a cold wind was blowing in from the NW.

“Maybe I should have pick a warmer place to meet.”James said, breathing out a warm breath that turned into a little fog.

He was moving his arms up and down to warm himself. They were sitting side by side on the bench.

“It isn’t even that cold.” Francis argued a bit playfully, even if he didn't liked lt much, he was used to cold weather.

“Really? Are you sure?” James suddenly put his cold hands against the part of Francis’ neck, not covered by his jacket. It made him almost jump, both from the unexpectedness of the gesture and how cold James’ hands really was. They laughed together, he felt so at ease.

So, he decided quickly to answer, with another unexpected gesture, he took James’ hands between his, to hold and warm them. He only focused on looking at their hands together for a moment, he felt a strange shyness that was preventing him from looking at James' eyes. James was also silent beside him. He realized then, that James made him forgot about his scarred hand completely, which was,  out in the open now. Looking weirdly out of place, so he stopped what he was doing.

Suddenly he felt the coldness too. Under the questioning gaze of James, he put his hands in his pockets quickly and turned back to look at the view – not having courage to talk about it.

﹏𓊝﹏

Despite some small setbacks, he felt that he was actually recovering now. Spending so much time with James, outside the flat was actually helping him to stop drinking too much and he also enrolled in a biology class, as a real hobby.

It was almost five months later, after his return from the seas and of course, everything was going so well and he didn’t deserve that. So, his new punishment came in the form of a phone call from James Fitzjames.Everything that happened on that ship came back to him in that small moment, after hearing his voice. Calling in to ask after him, he said, he was worried and he wanted to apologize.

Francis closed the phone immediately– shaking with emotion, it was a real ghost of the past coming to haunt him.

Fitzjames was the third officer under Captain Franklin, he wasn’t the best at navigation but he was the best at flattery– which worked well with Franklin but not with Francis. And together with Franklin’s stubborn incompetence they set sail to disaster.Francis shouldn’t dwell on these thoughts he knew, but he couldn’t help it.

The phone was ringing again and again. He didn’t pick it up.

﹏𓊝﹏

That day he didn’t contact James, he didn’t want to be seen while in this bitter state. He was on his God knows-th glass of whisky, when somebody tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around thinking James found him again. But he came face to face with the other one instead– James Fitzjames was standing there, well put as always. Even in a goddamn storm. He felt the anger raise,

“You– how dare you…” he slurred, getting up from his chair. James Fitzjames, put his hands up as if to surrender.

“Look …Francis–“

“Shut up, do you even realize what you did?” he walked up to him, which made James Fitzjames take a step back, as if scared. He didn’t say anything, Francis continued,

“Playing the role of captain, with Franklin by your side.” He laughed bitterly.

“As if you know anything about being a captain!” he sputtered, now also getting angry. 

"Nothing but a drunkard, you are!"

It took Francis a moment to understand what was being said, he looked around laughing in disbelief, then his fist was faster, than his brain to comprehend, to hit James.

Suddenly it felt like everyone in the pub decided to come here to hold him back, maybe they were right, otherwise he would have cause more damage to him for sure. but then he smelled a familiar fragrance, a citrusy one. His mind was so muddled by alcohol and anger, his eye sight was stained with tears now that, he couldn’t even see well. And he didn’t want to see if James was here. He turned around to, actually run away, for real this time. Not to be seen again.

Outside cold weather hit him, his jacket was hanging behind a chair inside. He couldn’t go back there again. Around him voices kept talking and talking,

“This ship is very well suited to pass Cape Horn, Francis, try to cheer up.”

“We are far away from any coast, we can’t call for help for him.”

“We almost arrived to land sir, don’t worry for me.”

Almost saved

Almost dead

He threw up near a wall, he was on his knees – as if it was his fault, that he was the one that begged to God for forgiveness.

He wasn’t sure how many minutes passed since he was sitting there, he was getting numb in the coldness of an early winter night. Then distantly, he felt a warmness – like a blanket was put on him.

He must have blacked out.

﹏𓊝﹏

He woke up to an awful headache, which was even worse than his usual headaches. He was used to his body aching all over so he didn’t pay any mind to that. But after staring at the ceiling for a while, he realized that he wasn’t laying down in his usual couch – he got up to find himself, in Tom’s room.

He knew he was very drunk last night but he wasn’t sure if he was drunk enough to lay in his friend’s bed, out of all places. He tried to get up quickly but his body wasn’t helping, he heard almost all his knuckles crack. He tried to recall last night’s events, he was sure that something happened.

Then, he heard some clattering sounds coming from the kitchen– as if someone was preparing breakfast. It was impossible for Tom to be here so, who was here then?

He wished it to be not James, since he didn’t think the flat was tidy enough for Francis to show it to him, but it was James of course. Here in the kitchen, making pancakes, apparently. Of course, he can flip a pancake.

He watched him through the slightly open door, he wasn’t sure he wanted let himself known anymore, in fact it was better for Francis to completely disappear, now that he knew who was here with him during that unpleasant condition– that he never wanted James to see, in the first place.

James looked back at him then, a sweet smile on his lips,

“Good morning, Francis.”

Francis nodded, he probably looked like he had seen a ghost. But James had the sweetest voice and the sweetest touch, he put down his pan to hold Francis' hands and make him sit at the breakfast table. His jacket from last night was now hung on this chair.

“How do you feel?” Ashamed mostly, Francis thought but didn’t say,

“Not bad.” His voice was hoarse from sleeping, and he was sure he looked terrible. James put painkillers and water on the table, pancakes and chocolate smelled amazing.

“You shouldn’t have done all this.” He gestured at everything since they didn’t have any of these ingredients, James must have gone out to shop for them.

“And you have classes today, you should have just drop me off an–“

“And then, I didn’t do that so let’s have our breakfast.” He said it as if he was ready to argue about it more, but Francis smiled to himself, and took a bite from his pancake,

“…this is sweet!”

James smiled even more, eyes sparkling and Francis wished he could stop time and stay in this small moment forever.

Chapter Text

Apex, margin, veins, midrib, base 

A blade of green 

That day, almost all the trees were barren of any leaf but there was a warmer breeze and James thought he could take a walk, since today he didn’t have any school work either. He invited Anne also, she needed some downtime since she was writing a research paper. They walked near the Thames and at last minute, he decided to visit his uncle on his “precious” sailboat. Well, his uncle at times embodied that stubborn old man stereotype perfectly.The sailboat was called “Victory” and when he was small his uncle used to sometimes took James with him to sail, not so far.

He sat on the deck and found himself spacing out, looking at the calm waters of the Thames. Why was Francis Crozier like that during their trekking trip? Maybe Mr. Blanky spoke so highly of him just because they were friends and in reality, he was a bit rude..? Though he got an inkling that there was more to the story than meet the eye.

Now he thought it best to just leave this thing alone, he didn’t want to try to befriend anyone if they themselves were unwilling. Above them gulls were looking for food, his uncle especially instructed Anne to not feed them, in the light of a past event in which his boat ended up being stained with many bird droppings.

Then, he felt the strange feeling of as if he was being watched, he looked back towards the walking route. There amongst some other people walking, a figure stood, but turned away the moment James looked back. And James recognized him as his sullen friend, Francis Crozier.

Suddenly he felt his heart beating a bit faster, quickly he dashed out of the sailboat after Francis, while calling his name. Francis was wearing dark coloured trousers and a navy blue jumper, James thought the dark blue suited his light-coloured features well.

“Francis, we met again!”

He couldn’t hide the fact that he was surprised and actually, pleased to see the man again. Which he thought, probably was visible on his face, Francis also looked a mix between terrified and surprised. He was interesting.

“Yes …what a coincidence ..James.” and that was the first time he uttered James’ name, James wasn’t even sure Francis would remember his name.

“Please, let me offer you some coffee or tea, whatever you like.”

He said while taking a step back, he thought maybe Francis would follow and they could talk more, that is to say he hoped. But he was met with a small smile that said no thank you,

“No actually, I have some things to do and …I shouldn’t interrupt your and your girlfriend's fun.”

James stood there and watched the man go, again. the thing about him and Anne was that since they were close friends, but male and female everyone thought they were actually dating, all the time. Which was annoying but he learned to ignore that. This time though he was kind of dumbfounded by it, that he couldn’t even call after Francis.

𓅯

For a few days, that moment with Francis occupied all his thoughts, he didn’t see Francis around the anchorage again. So, one evening he remembered to go and look for him in the pub Mr. Blanky took them to.

And apparently, he was finally in luck, he found Francis Crozier sitting on his own, sunk down in his chair– sipping his drink. He had his brown jacket hung at the back of his chair. He thought well, now or never. Hopefully the man won’t be dashing out of the pub just because he saw him again.

He touched his shoulder, and when Francis turned away to look at him they ended up looking at each other for a moment then he said,

“Can I sit with you or are you going to run away again, Francis?”

He hoped he sounded more confident than he actually was, the man was causing him to act strange.

“Yeah.. you can.” James sat down beside him, pressed against him since it was such a confined place with many people around.

“I didn’t run away, I was busy.”

James thought he could argue against that, since he was a first-person witness. He leaned in more, he could smell smoke on him, mixed with the earthy notes of the whisky. It enveloped his mind, he recalled a distant memory of a cold but homely night, smoke from the chimneys– the smell of winter.

“It’s ok, you can make it up to me now.” He knew his eyes were darting around Francis’ face and Francis could see that but it was okay.

“In fact, I …ah actually wanted to correct something.” He was feeling a bit hot, must be the air inside.

“Me and Anne, we aren’t a couple.”

It would be an understatement to say that Francis looked surprised. It seemed the newly collected information was a bit much for him.

“James, why are you here?”

His voice sounded a bit sad now, he looked as if he couldn’t comprehend the fact that James was here, sitting beside him– willingly. James wanted to understand this man, that he found attractive even though their meetings so far weren’t the best. It was obvious that something happened to Francis lately, he deduced, it had something to do with his latest journey. Which made him closed off and distant.

“Well, I thought I would tell you my favourite bird.”

It made Francis smile, the gentlest curl on his lips.

𓅯

Slowly, Francis was coming out of his shell, that is to say; they had been meeting almost everyday for some months now, that he started to become a fixated part of James’ life– for which he was grateful.

𓅯

One of those days, they were supposed to meet in the park and then visit the university James was a lecturer in. James promised to him to show natural history collections they had in the university. But Francis didn't come, he must have been waiting more than half an hour, in the cold. It was never like Francis to be late to something, he was a very punctual person.

He phoned him from the nearest phone booth, which Francis didn’t pick up. Even though he was worried he decided to leave it be since maybe something urgent related to the ship company came up. He knew Francis was putting off doing paper work about his promotion to become a captain, for reasons he didn’t get to know yet.

But even after sunset, when Francis didn’t call him back to say his reason of his absence. He decided to visit the pub, to see if Francis was there or not, and if not to ask around for him.

Closing the pub’s door behind him he looked inside, it looked even crowded tonight. He tried to get past people that was standing around, and when he looked at the middle of the place– there was a man he didn’t know, talking or rather shouting at Francis. Who had red cheeks from drinking and looked even more angry.

“As if you know anything about being a captain!”

He heard the unknown man say, while trying to reach for Francis. He couldn’t understand why so many people stand around to watch this. He felt sadness squeezing his heart, what really happened today that got Francis so worked up?

"Nothing but a drunkard, you are!" the man continued, before James can even react to that, Francis punched the man in the face, and finally James had reached to him. He held him back, just when he was about to speak, to ask what was happening to him, Francis freed himself from James’ hold and turned to leave from the back door. His eyes filled with tears.

James’ felt some kind of anger rise in his chest too, wasn’t sure how to be of help to Francis in this situation before learning the cause of the issue, he glanced at the unknown man who looked at him back– probably bracing himself in fear of another blow.

James took Francis’ jacket he had forgotten, from the back of the chair– he always hanged it in the same place. Went out the back door, looked around the street. There was no one around, he felt frantic, thinking that something bad might happen to him in his drunk state.

He was on verge of tears– it felt as if all the emotions he had for Francis that he had been keeping at bay, had overflowed– he felt all of them at once. He wanted to shout, to ask why,

Why do you have to fight every battle on your own?

What do you keep hidden from me?

When will you truly let me in?

But all the unanswered questions and the unspoken feelings, vanished when he found him– on his knees, shivering from the cold.

He gently put the coat over his shoulders, and getting him up to his feet– it was time to find a cab.

𓅯

It was true that this wasn’t how he imagined visiting the flat Francis’ stayed in would go, but here they were now. The flat was small; kitchen looked very empty like it wasn’t actually being used, living room looked out to the street and had a bookshelf and a record player.

He knew it was Mr. Blanky’s house actually but he only now realized that all this time Francis had been sleeping in the couch at the living room, which had a blanket and pillow on it. So, he decided to make Francis sleep on Mr. Blanky’s bed, now that maybe it could be more comfortable for him to rest. He helped Francis to lay down on the bed, he took of his boots and covered him with the blanket. Before closing the door, he gazed at Francis, a warm yellow light from outside was slipping through the curtains, even though Francis was sleeping now he was still frowning– as if he didn’t like the dreams he was having, if any at all.

He decided to stay by his side tonight, even after literally putting him in bed to sleep– James still felt anxious. Francis’ teary-eyed state from the pub not leaving his mind. In the living room the photos on the shelf caught his eye– a younger and clean-shaven Francis having the biggest smile on his face, beside Mr. Blanky.

In a photo album on the shelf, James found a photo of Francis leaning on the railings of the ship, looking out to the open oceans. Wind messing his hair, now the motion frozen in time forever and looking care-free. Fondness bloomed in his chest that almost brought tears to his eyes. He thought that he might still be under the effect of tonight’s events that, for a little photo to make him almost end up crying.

So, he closed the album and put it back in its place behind the snow globe with the polar bear.

Chapter Text

11 a.m., rain turned into snow

James had left, he wanted to stay for some reason but Francis persuaded him to leave for his classes and maybe come back later if he wanted.

James made him confused.

On one side he wanted to be with him, he thought James also seemed like he wanted that. But on the other side there was doubt, speaking poison into his mind.

Nobody wanted him.

Nobody wanted him in that special way.

Nobody loved him in that special way.

Everybody was ready to leave him anytime.

He knew those weren’t the truth, but he still felt terrible.

James didn’t ask him why he was like this, what had happened to him, but Francis saw in his eyes that he wondered about that but he was giving Francis time to heal. Time to come to him in his own terms. Francis wanted to let him in more, just to see what happens.

(but what if he leaves?)

(but he didn’t leave this time.)

He watched James from the window, leaving to attend his classes, as he thought of something he should have done before and he had been putting off for months now. No, it wasn’t the paper work, but something that needed more courage.

﹏𓊝﹏

He put the flowers down on the grave, their vivid colours creating a pretty contrast on the snow’s whiteness.

He stood there for a while, snowflakes falling on him and melting on his coat.

Was this, his fault? (yes, you were not quick enough)

Or somebody else’s? (yes, they didn’t listen to you)

He was sure if Thomas Jopson was here with him now, alive and breathing, instead of laying beneath the cold earth– he would say,

“No sir, you had done all you could.”

“But that wasn’t enough Thomas.”

He sighed, even if there were tears on the edge of his eyes, he ignored them. He touched Thomas’ gravestone, and turned to leave.

﹏𓊝﹏

“Please, will you come?”

James had made Tom’s place his own second home apparently, now he was coming here whenever he wished, which was a lot of the time.

“I don’t like parties.”

Francis said again, God knows how many times since this morning. They somehow fallen into a domestic routine, now making dinner together. Outside snow got thicker, there were some children snowball fighting– their laughter could be heard through the tightly closed windows, Tom’s house wasn’t the best place to stay during the colder months, the whole apartment had a central heating problem.

“Why not?”

He was almost whining like a child at this point, which amused Francis. Could be why he kept saying no, or not. He didn’t think much of that. They were sitting opposite to each other, in the small kitchen with its old and dim light, creating a warm atmosphere. He didn’t answer, James continued,

“I don’t want you to be alone during New Year’s Eve.”

The firm and decided tone of his velvety voice, made Francis stop and look at him in the eyes, James cocked his head to the side, his ginger hair falling on his shoulders. Francis sighed and leaned back in his chair, defeated.

“Alright.”

He watched as James’ face lit up, he couldn’t help but think about how adorable he was.

﹏𓊝﹏

In front of James’ door, he hesitated to knock. He has been trying his best to lessen his alcohol intake, with the help of James too so he didn’t mind there being alcohol. But he wasn’t sure about people, he hadn’t been to the pub since that occasion either. He felt strange being around people.

Finally, when he knocked, James opened the door, hugged him and let him in. The hugging was new but slowly making itself into a habit, a fixture. He wouldn’t show it but he loved being hugged, if the hugger was this charming man, James himself, only.

To his relief, there wasn’t that many people, most of which he already met. Inside, the walls were beige, and now some New Year decorations were hanged on the walls. He found himself sitting on a dark green cabriole couch, chatting with Edward Bird and Anne. Which he could say that they had become friends to him.

Throughout the evening till midnight, he couldn’t catch James alone at all. Anytime, anywhere there was someone near him, talking to him. Such a social butterfly, he was, never seems to be getting tired from all the interactions. He wasn’t jealous or anything, that people were always around him, mind you! Just amazed at how sociable James was. Francis was the opposite, he started to feel kind of overwhelmed by all the people who actually wanted to talk to him. Turns out people really loved listening to captain stories.

Though he was clever enough today to hide his scarred hand with the cuff of his sweater, so that no one wondered about that.

Everyone was gathered in the living room so, he decided to retire to a more secluded place in the house. Sitting and watching the snow fall in one of the rooms at the back, away from the crowd and the noise. It might be one of the most elderly people type of thing he had ever done, while being only in his thirties. Then he heard a knock, and when he turned around, it was James letting himself in.

“I invite you here to not be alone and somehow you still manage to do that.”

He joked, closing the door behind him. Francis smiled and turned to look out the window.

“That isn’t true. I’ve been socializing!”

He laughed to himself while turning to look at James, who came to stand beside him. James said,

“I know, I know! I could see that everyone loved listening to your stories.”

That made Francis smile, then a silence fell between them. A loaded silence, Francis felt as if he was waiting for something to happen. As the night grew colder, it started to snow more. The garden outside looked beautiful covered in white and bathed in warm orange glow of the street lamp.

“Francis.”

James muttered his name and tugged at his arm faintly, Francis was almost afraid to turn around to look at him. He remembered that evening they first spend together at the pub, and how he almost ended up kissing him. Now, the adoration and love for James grew more, that, he felt the need to be careful to not break their precious connection. He wanted to keep their intimacy safe, by not being intimate? He was also wasn't sure what he was doing.

He looked at him, James was wearing a white knitted sweater that looked cosy, his hair looked soft like newly washed, his cheeks had a bit of redness to them. And being this close, and alone together Francis let himself have this moment. He cupped James’ face in his hands, tucking his hair that was falling on his eye, behind his ear and gave a little peck to his lips as if asking for permission. James kissed him back, soft and slow.

He felt as if his body was numb and on fire all at once, with the pleasure of it– the warm wetness and softness of it.

Suddenly a loud cheering noise startled them both, out of breath they looked at each other. It was midnight, the new year. Someone in the corridor was calling James, which caused an annoyed frown to form on his face, for the first time all evening. James kissed him on the lips again, with more pressure and hurry, and said,

"You aren't allowed to leave tonight, Captain."

Chapter Text

Finally, after the last guest also left, James looked back at Francis– who was now sitting sleepily on the couch. Lights were low, on the television BBC 1 reporter was saying his goodnights– it was nearing one p.m.

Then James’ clear voice ripped through his dazed state,

“I hope the photographs will turn out well.” In his hand was the new camera he bought, looking at it as if he couldn’t figure it out– it was a Canon, Francis promised him he would develop the photographs himself. James sat beside him and continued to speak while looking at the camera,

“But …we didn’t get a photo of just the two of us yet.” It was too dark for a good photo now,

“Tomorrow? We need more light.”

James watched him with a gentle little smile, standing up he said,

“Someone’s getting sleepy.”

Francis couldn’t hide his yawning, it was a tiredness that ended up turning into restlessness as the night went on but it never turned into a peaceful sleep. Even though his liver health might have been getting a bit better lately, his sleeping however …wasn’t the best.

“You can bring me a pillow and I– “

He was interrupted by James laughing, he grabbed Francis’ hand and helped him up,

“I have a bed you know.”

𓅯

He was still processing the kiss, but now he was here in this beautiful man’s bedroom, out of all places. It was definitely better than sleeping on his cold and miserable couch. James gave him some bigger shirts he had and since he was so used o being around other man, considering his line of job. He automatically took of his sweater to wear the nightshirt but then James was still there, now his eyes darted around Francis’ bare shoulders and arms. Even though Francis wasn’t in an indecent state he suddenly felt vulnerable, suddenly all the scars, freckles and pock marks on his skin was a reason for this man before him, to leave him. For James to finally realize that, Francis was too disturbed to be loved and adored.

Meanwhile, was James blushing? Before James could say anything, Francis got dressed.

“Which side would you prefer …to sleep on?”  

James asked a bit hurriedly, he sounded a little anxious, or maybe Francis imagined that in his tired state.

“Well, as someone sleeping on a couch mostly,” he laughed to himself “both sides seem good to me.”

James laughed too, his ears were still red, Francis loved hearing him laugh.

When they both settled on their side of the bed, Francis felt a bit awkward. Now he wasn’t even sure how to lay down or where to turn at all, he didn’t want to turn his back to him but also, he didn’t want to turn towards James, for reasons. But then, James turned to him, he was snuggled up beside Francis. His room and his pillows also smelled citrusy and with the warmness of James under the blankets, maybe Francis could sleep more tonight. Though he wasn’t sure of that.

Then James lifted his hand to put on Francis’ scarred one, Francis could see the little dotes of light in James’ eyes flicker as the light from the street reflects on them, with a gentle murmur he said,

“Is it alright?” he pressed Francis’ hand, the gesture seemed to be asking:

“Would you let me be a part of your life?”

Francis squeezed James’ hand lightly, with his other hand and hummed in approval. Upon hearing that James rose on his arm to give a kiss to Francis, Francis’ arm moving immediately to hold him.

“Good night, Francis.”

𓅯

He was mostly in a hazy, in and out of dreaming state through the night – but it seemed he actually fell asleep sometime before dawn. When he woke up to light, an unfamiliar ceiling and a weight resting on him, for a small moment he panicked then the events of yesterday rushed through the misty state of his mind. He looked down to James, who was still fast asleep, his head on Francis chest and his arm hugging him.

Suddenly before his eyes, Francis watched their first meeting, their times spent together, growing closer. Maybe he was loved after all, if not, why would James hold him so tightly now?