[ His men and Flint's? As much as Jack would love to get the juicy details about that, he bites his tongue, brushing his fingers against the side of the other man's neck. ]
He'll forgive you. After you're gone, he'll come back to fight them with Anne and I.
[ Jack can't give him any more detail than that, besides the gruesome way that Teach met his end because of it. He bites his tongue on that, too. ]
[his brow furrows slightly, but for a minute that's all, just the trace of a frown as he stares at nothing and his thoughts waver between the look of shock and betrayal on teach's face at ocracoke beach, and the tingles left behind by jack's fingers on his neck.
forgiveness means nothing, realistically, to a dead man. but he's not a dead man here - not in any way that matters, even though there's no going back, he and teach will never see each other again. he's alive enough to be experiencing this moment, and in this moment, it's nice to hear it. soothes something to a dull ache instead of a sharp one.]
He wanted me to leave with him. [it feels weird to tell jack as much, stepping across the uneven ground between their timelines. he's not even really sure why he's saying it now, other than simple pleasure of telling jack things and being known by him a little better because of it.] Drive off the governor's fleet, then put Nassau behind us for good. All that shit I put him through, all the years in between, but he just... dismissed it. Like it didn't fucking matter.
[ Or he wouldn't have been hanged in Nassau. It's starting to take shape, the time in between what he remembers and what Anne does, the exact things Jack has worked hard to convince himself he doesn't need to worry about, that he can't worry about, lest he drown himself in what-ifs that he can't even remember.
But coming from Charles, freely given instead of wrenched from his brain, he doesn't mind. He's not like Jack, he doesn't waste time talking about things that don't matter. It's important to him, then, and since it is, Jack wants to know. ]
He was like a father to you, wasn't he? [ Not a real question. He knows. ] Get close enough to someone, you'll forgive them anything. No matter how much time's separated you, I'd hope.
[ Not that he would know. Longest he's ever been separated from Anne is the month she fell into that coma here. Longest he's been separated from Charles is the months he was just gone, and here he is, pressed naked against his side. ]
[not until it happened to him, with teach, and in him, with jack. twice that one of them should, by all rights and every example, have killed the other and written off his very existence. instead they deliberately chose otherwise, and after enough time had passed it was like it never happened at all.
at least, that's how he remembers it. jack was winked to duplicity at a time when that bridge was still mending.
but, in any case. he doesn't need to tell jack that he's right. they both know it. instead he turns over again, this time onto his front so he can crawl up the other man's body and kiss him, deepening it, sliding a hand firmly around the back of his neck. when he speaks again it's just a murmur against his mouth, thumb running gently down the center of jack's throat.]
[ Last he saw of Charles back in Nassau, their truce was uneasy, still strained, to put it mildly, from the Hammund affair, an event that proves his point twice over. He had to forgive Anne for it, Charles had to forgive him. It happened in that span of time between them, clearly. Jack wonders what that looks like, what happened to bring them back together, but the kiss is all the answer he needs. Jack lets him in without a hint of fight in him, inviting it, running his hand through his hair to keep him close.
If he felt this way the whole time, he'd forgive Jack anything. ]
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He'll forgive you. After you're gone, he'll come back to fight them with Anne and I.
[ Jack can't give him any more detail than that, besides the gruesome way that Teach met his end because of it. He bites his tongue on that, too. ]
no subject
forgiveness means nothing, realistically, to a dead man. but he's not a dead man here - not in any way that matters, even though there's no going back, he and teach will never see each other again. he's alive enough to be experiencing this moment, and in this moment, it's nice to hear it. soothes something to a dull ache instead of a sharp one.]
He wanted me to leave with him. [it feels weird to tell jack as much, stepping across the uneven ground between their timelines. he's not even really sure why he's saying it now, other than simple pleasure of telling jack things and being known by him a little better because of it.] Drive off the governor's fleet, then put Nassau behind us for good. All that shit I put him through, all the years in between, but he just... dismissed it. Like it didn't fucking matter.
no subject
[ Or he wouldn't have been hanged in Nassau. It's starting to take shape, the time in between what he remembers and what Anne does, the exact things Jack has worked hard to convince himself he doesn't need to worry about, that he can't worry about, lest he drown himself in what-ifs that he can't even remember.
But coming from Charles, freely given instead of wrenched from his brain, he doesn't mind. He's not like Jack, he doesn't waste time talking about things that don't matter. It's important to him, then, and since it is, Jack wants to know. ]
He was like a father to you, wasn't he? [ Not a real question. He knows. ] Get close enough to someone, you'll forgive them anything. No matter how much time's separated you, I'd hope.
[ Not that he would know. Longest he's ever been separated from Anne is the month she fell into that coma here. Longest he's been separated from Charles is the months he was just gone, and here he is, pressed naked against his side. ]
no subject
[not until it happened to him, with teach, and in him, with jack. twice that one of them should, by all rights and every example, have killed the other and written off his very existence. instead they deliberately chose otherwise, and after enough time had passed it was like it never happened at all.
at least, that's how he remembers it. jack was winked to duplicity at a time when that bridge was still mending.
but, in any case. he doesn't need to tell jack that he's right. they both know it. instead he turns over again, this time onto his front so he can crawl up the other man's body and kiss him, deepening it, sliding a hand firmly around the back of his neck. when he speaks again it's just a murmur against his mouth, thumb running gently down the center of jack's throat.]
Funny how things work out.
no subject
If he felt this way the whole time, he'd forgive Jack anything. ]