Chapter Text
When Hercules had mentioned fishing , John had immediately thought of nets and rods and the like because that’s how you fished . John had lived in a seaside town his whole life. He’d visited the fishmonger with his father, he’d stood on the cliffs by the ocean and watched the boats cast their nets into the waves. He knew how fishing worked .
And there was no way this was fishing .
Fishing wasn’t pretty or elegant , and it didn’t leave butterflies in John’s stomach (actually, the smell made him queasy).
He’d curiously watched as Alexander tied his hair back, cuffed his breeches, and discarded his shoes. And his shirt, which John would forever deny left him blushing. He’d been seconds from asking what the bloody hell Alex was doing when suddenly something had shifted and the little green and gold feathers that dotted Alexander’s arms like hairs grew , turning into long, iridescent plumes that shone in the sunlight. At the same time, his feet had changed into talons, not unlike those of a falcon or hawk.
John hadn’t been able to do much other than stare.
Another moment passed and then Alex was flying , and John all but felt his jaw hit the deck.
He was flying , up and up and up, framed by the sun like an angel, and John could’ve sworn his heart was flying just as high as Alexander was.
“Hey, loverboy, you’re going to tip over the bucket,” Hercules teased as he passed John, who had been so taken in by Alexander that’d he’d been pointedly ignoring the mop and bucket he was supposed to be using to clean the Adrienne ’s deck.
John jolted, nearly tripping over his own feet as he was shocked out of his reverie. “What--I’m--Alex and I are merely platonic--simply close friends--I would never--no offense to you or Gil, but--my affections--” he stammered.
“Of course,” Hercules replied with a smirk, “Which is why you turn red as a cherry everytime Alexander does so much as grin your way.”
“You prick --”
“Just calling it as I see it, man,” Hercules replied with a shrug.
“Well, what you’re seeing is wrong !” John insisted.
“If you say so,” Hercules said, his smug grin never wavering.
“I do say so!”
“Say what?” Alexander asked as he landed for a moment, dropping the large fish he had in his talons.
“ Nothing ,” John and Hercules said unanimously. Alexander raised an eyebrow at the pair of them before taking off into the air again.
John pretended he didn’t hear Hercules’ low chuckles at the particularly red state of John’s face.
○○○
Aaron was supposed to be cleaning below deck and taking stock of the remaining rations.
Instead, he was curled up on his palet, a candle burning low beside him as he wrote with the quill and parchment he’d filched from Alexander’s room.
Dear Theodosia…
He can't think of much else to say.
He doesn't think there is much else to say.
Theodosia--his wife, Theodosia--had died only a few days after their daughter had been born, her human body unable to cope with the delivery of such a child.
Aaron had kept her safe, kept her secret, for so long. He'd been determined to not let her humanity stand in their way, smuggling her aboard the ship to Tératos under the guise of another shapeshifter. They’d kept up the act for years-- centuries , the island's magic working just as well on her as it did on everyone else.
A little thing like humanity wasn't going to bring Theodosia Burr down.
Until it did. Until their daughter, always changing and shifting within the womb, had torn out of her and left her cold in her bed.
It'd been the first time anyone had died on the island in years.
And now, Aaron had lost the only piece of her he still had. He'd lost his little girl, who carried his eyes and her mother's name.
He'd never see her again. She'd grow up the way he did, the way so many did.
Alone, with nothing but memories.
Memories that were bound to fade.
What to say to you?
Aaron put down his pen and cried.
○○○
None of the Adrienne ’s crew had any sort of solid idea as to where they were headed, but they headed back south, hoping that once they reached Ándras, Hercules would be able to direct them in the direction of their island.
And, hopefully, Jefferson and Madison.
Alexander, Hercules, Lafayette, and even Burr to some extent, had taken to regaling John with tales of the dragons they were sailing to meet, along with other miscellaneous stories of their home.
John believed it odd that he'd begun to miss a place he'd never been to.
They stopped at a harbor, once. John and Burr had taken to land, laden with a sack of gold (“Humans still use gold, right?” Alexander had asked as he handed over the bag. John didn't think he could laugh that hard.) and instructions to not steal anything unless completely necessary .
John was quick to say that the rum had been absolutely necessary, and what the point of being pirates if they didn't steal a little?
Alexander still insisted that they weren't pirates.
Alexander .
John didn’t know what to do about the man who had quickly become the best friend he’d ever had. They were close, of course. He spent nigh on every moment with the man. They were attached at the hip, all but literally.
And John was panicking .
He didn’t like Alexander. Or, he did , but not in the way Hercules like Lafayette or anything like that .
He didn’t .
But sometimes, when the sun would catch in the green and gold feathers that were mixed in with his hair, or he would smile in the candlelight of their cabin in the evenings, or he’d laugh at any particular joke--but especially John’s jokes--John felt his heart turn in his chest and felt his face grow red.
He caught himself staring at Alexander’s mouth more than once, and the only thing that saved him from death by utter mortification had been the fact that Alex was completely oblivious .
But he didn’t like Alexander .
He put it all only loneliness. Of course, he’d become more attached to--more affectionate towards--Alexander when the man was one of the only five people he saw every day.
His traitorous brain would then supply that he never found himself staring at Burr’s mouth. He would quickly remind himself that was because it was Burr , and no one in their right mind would ever be attracted to him .
He was fine .
He didn’t like Alexander .
○○○
“John!” Alexander yelled, two months after the first time John ever saw him fly. He was at his usual place at the bow of the ship, his violet eyes staring off into the horizon.
“Yes?” John asked as he came up behind the siren and rested his chin on the man’s shoulder.
“Go get Hercules. I think we’ve found Andras.”
John couldn’t help but notice that Alex sounded
scared
.