gold that's put to use more gold begets

[jackrackham]

This morning, as Jack goes through the possible things he could start working on, or learning more about, the little note in his notebook with the address of the archive keeps grabbing his attention. It really is time that he stopped by and found out what's really there.

And there is the matter of a dish that he has to return to Eliot. He might as well do both at once.

The walk is more comfortable now that he has warm clothes to wear, and Jack takes his time walking over to the Archive, the empty pyrex tucked under his arm. It's not a nice day, but it's serviceable, and it feels good to have some small task to accomplish. He's going to return Eliot's dish and, if possible, find his own file.

When he arrives, he steps inside and closes the door behind him. The place is a mess, though he can tell that organization is in progress. It's more or less what he'd expected to find based on how Martin and Eliot had described it.

What he doesn't immediately see is anyone here to greet him. He calls out a hello as he loosens his scarf from around his neck, and goes to look at the contents of the first open box he can see.

Comments

[jackrackham]

"It makes sense to me." He pauses then tips his head, admitting that that's not entirely true. "As much as I understand magic existing at all. But it doesn't seem silly. A sea voyage to the ends of the Earth to find seven gold keys? To save magic itself?" He looks down at the paper again, wishing that he could see the original map, and also that he could have seen what Eliot looked like then, on the deck of a ship pursuing a magical quest. "I'm sure it's not as simple as it sounds, but it sounds fantastic. I think I would have liked to have been there."

He smiles a tight, wry smile. He'd certainly been on his own crusade, and Charles had had ideas about making Nassau something to believe in, but neither of those things was anything like what Eliot's world is like.

"Nothing where I came from could ever be so noble." He flips the page and looks at the second piece of paper. "What's this one?"

[eliotwaugh]

He’s glad Jack’s able to follow along as much as he has, and it’s nice to know they have some point of common ground. Or, sea. Eliot thinks back on the quest, trying to fit Jack into the picture beyond being professionally suited to the environment. He would have been useful, Eliot thinks. Perhaps it could have been accomplished without so much loss, if they’d had another fighter. But it’s difficult to imagine the voyage happening differently, because it ended so definitively and the journey itself forced him to grow up so much.

Jack’s question pulls him out of his thoughts, and Eliot frowns just the slightest bit upon seeing the other sheet. He’s not yet willing to delve into it, much easier to think of better times, when he was better.

“Oh,” Eliot laughs, sidestepping the question and considering instead how Jack described the voyage. Fantastic, yes, certainly, but perhaps not entirely noble. “It certainly wasn’t all grand adventure. There was one island where, and I can’t explain how this would have formed, but the beach was actually made of keys. Hundreds of thousands of them, and we spent two weeks of just...drudgery, trying to find the right one. Fucking uncomfortable to walk on, too.”

The self-deprecation is enough of a buffer that he’s able to consider the other document, and Eliot sighs. Once more into the breach.

He barely even has to glance at it; the dry typewritten description made an indelible impression the first time he looked at the file. Cardiac arrest, it reads, as if that can really convey the weight of what happened. 80% surface area burns.

“So, this,” Eliot says, gesturing to the page, “is apparently something I’m not allowed to forget, if we can ascribe any sort of consciousness or intention to Darrow.” He swallows, suppressing the knot of anxiety, and wishes he’d gotten the scotch after all. “I did that. I was a little older than you were when you were...left on your own.” Eliot looks out into the middle distance for a moment, trying not to remember the scene too closely. “I’d no idea magic was real, at the time, but that’s what it was. Apparently that can happen on occasion, for people with the aptitude. But I…” He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. “I killed him. It was an accident.”