Chapter Text
01:05
The room had dissipated, once a buzzing restless group now off to hopefully a much needed peaceful sleep, after the initial scare of being taken away. Thomas paced slowly, thoughtfully, a restful slumber evidently out of his grasp tonight.
He sighed, a phantom touch against the spine of a tall worn book, one of many he had grown envious of over the years.
Tonight had given him a lot to think about, Patrick’s soft words echoing in a faint whisper, soothing him every time he now looked back at what was once a mockery to very his existance. He glanced at each individual book, focussing on every one of them with new eyes, wandering what other legacy they could have left behind besides their works. Did they have a family they loved? Somebody to come downstairs to after a long day of writing and pondering? Though these questions lingered, it was not entirely Patrick that kept him awake tonight.
His heart had been open for all to see, there was no denying how his heart ached for affection, always fixated, always immediate advances. But had he loved as deeply as he thought? No, it wasn’t Patrick’s but the Captain’s words, his deepest personal tale, that stuck with him the most. His words had left him struck, not even able to contemplate how there’s now two better poets than him in the house, for his description of love was deeper than Thomas could ever put into words. More authentic than he’d probably ever even felt about anyone.
His trail stopped at the window, narrowly missing walking into the wall with a flinch. Realising his pacing was hopeless, he sat down with a groan, unable to appreciate the beauty of the night sky that layed before him. Not even Mary's star that shimmered and twinkled in the mitst of the dark, accomanying him in his spiral.
He rarely ever considered the Captain’s feelings, only showing a side of himself that was rigid and demanding. Their paths had only really crossed when he either needed him to gather with everyone else, or for light conversation whether it was occasional bickering or pleasantries. There was nothing more to him outside of that, nothing much in common, assuming he had no care for the arts like he did. But tonight he’d discovered that man had buried secrets, ones he could never have seen coming. He had died for love, just like he had.
-
James laid awake, eyes fixated on every little crack in the ceiling, ridiculously thinking he would eventually just fall asleep that way. James… A name lost to time, swept away like everything else once had. He tossed, the echo of that name rolling off Haver’s tongue plaguing him for the first time in nearly 80 years. With a hiss he attempted to think about anything else, anything other than what he had just shared tonight. But was that even the correct thing to do? He shared in hopes of making peace with the way he died, with himself. He was brave, he wasn’t wrong for being the way he is. He knew that now, coming from his most entrusted companion after death.
A creak was to be heard, which was not out of the ordinary. Robin occasionally scampered around late at night, or Julian attempting to access the computer device for reasons he did not want to think about. Perhaps it was Thomas wallowing in his own self pity, like he usually did.
He sighed, sinking back into the pillows once again. Thomas, as dramatic and ruled by his emotions as he is, never held back. He was always so free to express, perhaps to a point that was grating, but he never shied away from himself. Something that he both found equally vexing and admirable.
Perhaps he was just disappointed he never got that chance in life, and he might never here.