Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jim didn’t trust Silver, not yet anyway. He hadn’t known Billy Bones for long, but that poor old man was terrified at the mere idea of seeing this “cyborg” person again and that was enough for Jim. He couldn’t prove Silver was that same cyborg, but he couldn’t disprove it either and it made him weary. If there was even a chance they were one in the same, that meant this was the same man who burned down his home and left his mother with nothing. For that reason alone he couldn’t take the chance the old spacer wasn’t just putting on a show.

From the day they met, Jim had sworn he would keep an eye on Silver, and catch him if or when he slipped up. However that kind of dedication was beginning to take its toll. He was so focused on Silver that he had been skipping meals and sleeping less. Add on top of that a mixture of homesickness and a growing head cold from his new environment, and Jim was feeling a little under the weather to say the least. He didn’t tell Silver any of this of course, fearful that the cyborg would use it against him, but it was getting harder to hide his symptoms. Yesterday he’d started with a cough and his throat burned every time he swallowed. Today he was most definitely feverish and his head was pounding so bad it made it hard to think. He felt dizzy, and shaky, and cold, and just all around horrible.

But he pushed on regardless, not really sure who he could go to anyway. The doc maybe? But he was busy with the captain and crew most days and Jim didn’t want to interfere. He could handle a little cold himself. Or so he tried to convince himself as he dragged his feet down into the galley. Silver was already there whistling as he threw some veggies in a pot and wiped his hand on his apron.

“Ah Jimbo! Yer late.” His voice boomed against Jim’s poor ears. The kid only glared at him with tired eyes.

“What do you need me to do?” He asked, voice hoarse. Silver half turned to him.

“My my, someone’s eager to get to work this mornin! You know I told the fellas ‘oh that Jim works hard he does! An’ with the biggest smile me eye ever saw.‘“ Silver said with a laugh and adjusted the heat on the stove. After a small taste of whatever he was cooking, he pivoted to the countertop where a cutting board and knife were set up with a few veggies. “Ah Jimbo, you know I’m a kidder I is.” He said wiping a fake tear. Jim stifled a cough, feeling weaker by the second.

“Just tell me what you need.” He repeated quieter this time. Silver noticed the shift and his playful tone faded some.

“You alright lad?” He asked. Jim stiffened and refused to look at him. After a few seconds of silence, Silver sighed, accepting he wasn’t going to get a real answer.

“I need some potatoes peeled, but there ain’t much to be done, you could rest up if ya need to.”

“I’m fine!” Jim protested a little too fast. He glared at Silver another moment, but the older man could tell there wasn’t any real fire or threat behind his look. Silver sighed again and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ah what’s an ol’ spacer like me-self know anyhows.” He said and turned his attention back to the cutting board and resumed his whistling. “Hop to it then lad.” Jim rubbed his temples a moment before making his way over to the dark corner with potatoes piled high waiting to be peeled. Only problem for Jim was that he couldn’t quite tell if the boat had suddenly lurched or if vertigo was revealing its ugly head again. Either way, he suddenly felt weak at the knees and stumbled a little too fast against the closest countertop as the ship swayed around him.

Silver stopped whistling again. “Jimbo?” He asked turning to the boy. His question was quickly followed by a slew of hushed curses as Jim heard footsteps get closer. “Jim? Bless me, yer pale…” Silver muttered as Jim felt strong hands press against his back and forehead to keep him steady. Jim tried to push him away and tell John to leave him alone, but his body refused to move how he wanted, and his tongue felt too heavy to speak. All he wanted to do was close his eyes. “Stay awake lad, Jim!” Jim only just barely heard as the world faded around him.

Chapter Text

When Jim came to, he was sitting at the table with his head in his arms. His back and head hurt, and his limbs felt heavy and achy. As he tried to sit up and straighten out a bit, he realized there was a thick heavy cloth draped over his shoulders. It smelled of Silver’s pipe and Jim pretty quickly pieced together that it was his coat.

“Wakin up are ya, lad?” Jim heard from across the room. He followed Silver with tired eyes as the older man approached the table with a steaming bowl and mug. “Scared the devil outta me when ya collapsed like that. All feverish and pale like. Me heart can’t take it.” He said coming around and placing both items in front of Jim before patting his back. “Now you listen here ta me Jimbo, yer gonna have somethin to eat and head straight ta bed, alright?” His voice was quiet and concerned, so much so it left Jim confused for a minute. Was it a trick? Pirates didn’t really care if someone was sick, did they?

He stared at the bowl and mug in front of him. It looked and smelled like a simple soup and coffee, but he wasn’t sure if he could even trust that. He felt a tickle in his throat and turned away from the table, folding in on himself a little as he coughed. The feeling hurt his throat and the sound hurt his ears. When the fit died down, he whimpered absently and pushed the meal to the side in favor of resting his head and arms back on the table. He felt as Silver rubbed circles in his back, trying his best to ease some of the boy’s pain.

“Come now Jimbo. A little broth will feel good on ya throat. Yer tired, I know, but you’ll be restin soon.” He said softly. He took Jim by the shoulders, gently adjusting his posture. Jim didn’t fight it, feeling too weak to argue. He eyed the bowl again as John took a seat across from him and lit his pipe. Jim still wasn’t sure he could trust Silver, especially when he was as tired and as vulnerable as he was now, but the growling hunger in his stomach was starting to overpower his fears. When he tried to think about when he last ate, his mind drew a blank. No wonder he felt so dizzy.

He pulled the soup closer and spoonful by spoonful, he accepted the warmth it brought to his cold bones. Silver was right, it did feel good on his throat, and the coffee helped perk him up just enough to think a little clearer and lessen the pressure building behind his eyes. Silver hummed the whole while, smoking his pipe as he occasionally glanced Jim’s way to make sure he was still upright. When Jim was finished, Silver wordlessly took the bowl and mug to the sink, still humming the same old shanty.

Jim hated to admit it, but he did feel a little better. Not great by any stretch of the imagination, but better. Would a pirate go through so much trouble to make him feel better? Did they take care of their own like this? He mulled over his muddied thoughts as he watched Silver wash the dishes and take his rightful seat back across from Jim.

“Hey um…thanks.” Jim croaked as he stared at his lap. “You didn’t have to go through so much trouble for me…” Silver took a long draw of his pipe, letting the smoke billow up and out the galley steps before he spoke.

“No trouble t’all lad. Just wish you had told me sooner.” He said. There was a sadness in his voice that made Jim regret not trusting him before.

“Sorry…” he muttered and buried himself a bit deeper into Silver’s coat. The stench of ash was becoming comforting. The old spacer laughed and came around to pat Jim on the back again.

“Nothin to apologize. Yer not the only one to ever get sick while sailin. You cook fer enough adventures, and ya see everythin under the stars.” He said. “Why didn’t ya say somethin sooner?” Jim shrunk deeper into the coat. “Ah, I see. It’s yer first time away from home, ain’t it lad?” He asked. Jim thought a moment, before nodding softly. “An’ ya thought that meant yer on yer own out here I take it?”

Jim’s heart ached a little at the remembrance of how far he was from home, from help, from his mom… He nodded again. Silver sat next to the kid on the bench, letting his elbow rest on the table as he wiped the ash from his pipe.

“Ya know, first time I was ever on a ship I was about yer age.” He started. “I swear the devil himself cursed me with the worst cold ya ever saw.” Jim glanced his way as he talked. “Didn’t know the crew at the time o’course. Thought the fellas would think I was soft so I tried to hide it. Though, not as well as you did Jimbo.” He said giving Jim’s shoulder a nudge, producing a half hearted laugh from the kid. “I says to myself, ‘John! Yer ta tell no one of this and tough it out you are!’” He said waving a finger like he was scolding himself.

“Then what happened..?” Jim asked curiously. Silver turned his attention back to the kid and smiled.

“Made me-self miserable as all for three days before the cook stepped in. Reminded me that out here, a crews all we’ve got and we look out for our own.” He said and set a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Same as I’ll tell ya now, Jimbo. T’aint an easy life out here, but yer not alone.”

Jim wasn’t sure what to say. What if this was a lie? No, it couldn’t have been. He looked at Silver’s face and his eyes spoke nothing but sympathy and kindness. It was more than his father would have given, that was for damn sure. No blood thirsty pirate would ever give him that.

He smiled at the old spacer. “Thank you, Silver.” He said, and meant it. Silver patted his shoulder and encouraged him to stand.

“Ah, enough talk. To bed with ya lad, a good rest and you’ll be right as rain I say, right as rain.” When Jim was standing, he started unwrapping himself from the warm jacket to hand it back, but Silver only pulled it tighter around him. “Keep it fer the evenin. It gets cold down in that there berthing, don’t need ya gettin any sicker. Return it in the mornin.” He comforted.

Jim’s heart ached a little more at the thought of ever doubting Silver. He couldn’t be the same cyborg, he just couldn’t. It was stupid to think he ever was. If he was, he never would have cared for Jim like this.

The young boy nodded and began heading up the stairs.

“Rest up Jimbo, ya know where ya find me should ya need somethin.” Silver said as he resumed whistling and went right back to the stove top.

As Jim stood halfway up the stairs, he turned back to the cook whistling away. It wasn’t easy for him to trust, but maybe he’d make an exception for Silver. The man was kind, and seemed to care for him, Jim hadn’t prepared himself for that. Maybe that old spacer wasn’t so bad after all.