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It was hours before the celebrations died down and people began to drift away. The first to do so were, understandably, those with children in tow, bidding Jim and his mother goodnight while carrying sleepy toddlers in their arms. Mrs. Dunwoodie had performed long and hard, but eventually she too had grown tired, and had left after congratulating Jim for making it into the Academy and praising his mother for rebuilding the inn better than it was before. Not long after the music stopped, most everyone took it as a cue to be on their ways and began to bid them farewells and goodnights, with appreciative comments over how wonderful the new inn looked and more congratulations over Jim entering the Academy.
Jim eventually settled down at a table with a long sigh, nursing a cup of some sweet-smelling spirit or other. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he thought Doppler mentioned something about it having come from the Coral Galaxy. He took another sip, enjoying the strangely pleasant burning sensation as it traveled down his throat, watching his mother and B.E.N. start gathering empty plates from the tables.
He started to rise, but his mother somehow noticed him from the corner of her eye—how did she do that?—and waved a hand at him, barely even losing a beat as she grinned and began to gather plates. “No, don’t even think about it, Jim, we’ve got this. You just sit right there. Bussing tables isn’t work for the likes of you anymore.”
“Mom, I’m not even part of the Royal Navy yet. Well, not really. That doesn’t mean I can’t—”
“James Pleiades Hawkins, I don’t want to see you even touch a plate, understood?”
Jim snorted, rolling his eyes fondly skywards. His mother was a stubborn one, but he could be pretty stubborn when he put his mind to it, too. Setting down his glass, he proceeded to rise anyway, but just as he made it to his feet he heard his name being called by a familiar voice and a hand on his shoulder forcing him to sit back down again.
Doppler soon plopped into a seat beside him, heaving a dramatic sigh. Jim would have probably chalked it up to dramatics, but with the way Doppler looked up close, all haggard and with bags under his eyes, you’d think someone had just wrung him out like a wet cloth.
“Jim, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from parenthood,” he began, launching into the discussion as if they’d already spent hours talking, “it’s that children are an absolute nightmare. No, really. If you ever get married, don’t have children.” A beat passed, and then he blinked owlishly at Jim over his spectacles. “You know what, on second thought, don’t get married at all. No, wait—I mean obviously if you want to get married, you should—well, not should-should, but should—you know what I mean, right?—well, anyway, marriage can be great, especially if you and your partner get along well, but children—!”
“Uh, Doppler?” he cut in, glad for the brief pause in the doctor’s monologue.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, Jim?”
Jim pointed at the nearby stairwell, where the spitting image of a younger Doppler was sitting on the bottom-most stair, banging a rattle against the freshly-painted banister. “Is that one of your kids now?” he asked casually.
Doppler eyed the child for a moment, as if seeing him for the first time, then yelped and darted out of his seat faster than Jim could blink. Jim hid a smirk, glad he hadn’t mentioned the other kid—one of the girls—already scrambling up the stairs on all fours. Doppler would spot her sooner or later.
“Mr. Hawkins. I see you’re making sport of my husband again.”
Jim blinked innocently as Captain Amelia—he could never think of her otherwise, though not from lack of trying—took the seat occupied moments earlier by Doppler. She sat down far more primly than Doppler had, her uniform as immaculate as ever despite the late hour. Now that Jim got a better look at her, she seemed tired too, but she certainly hid it better than Doppler did. He suddenly felt even more aware of his own uniform sitting next to her the way he was, already slightly wrinkled in the front from slouching.
“Me? Nah, I just figured I’d spare him from looking like a kicked puppy when my mom got a look at that banister later,” he said airily, trying to smooth out the wrinkles discreetly.
She gave him one of her small, furtive smiles. The kind that meant she knew he’d just wanted to cut Doppler off sooner rather than later—or maybe because she had noticed the state of his uniform—but she oddly did not comment on either. Weird.
It was actually funny how Jim used to think she smiled rarely and was generally a stiff and uppity sort of person—especially during the early days before they’d reached Treasure Planet—but he had learned otherwise over the years. He didn’t think she’d ever stop smiling when she and Doppler got married, or when Doppler gave birth to the babies several months ago. Doppler, giving birth! It was still hard to believe that had actually happened. If Jim hadn’t seen Doppler in that bed with his own eyes, he’d have probably thought they were pulling his leg. It hadn’t seemed strange to either of them, though, so Jim figured it was just the way their species looked. Er, worked. Or... something like that. He shook his head in bemusement.
“White looks good on you, Mr. Hawkins,” she went on with a small smile, watching as Doppler juggled two children in his arms from across the room, the other two still curled up in their basket, fast asleep. “I look forwards to following your progress in the Royal Navy Academy.”
Jim rubbed the back of his head, awkwardly clearing his throat. “If it hadn’t been for you putting in a good word for me...”
“Nonsense. Her Majesty’s Navy always has need of young men like you. Clearing up that business with—what was it again?—your solar surfer, was it?” She shrugged her shoulders, taking a sip from her glass. “It was a piece of cake.”
“Well, uh... thank you all the same, ma’am.”
She nodded, and they fell silent, watching those still lingering about in the room. B.E.N. and Jim’s mother were nearly finished clearing the tables, Doppler had settled down on the bottom-most stair and was rocking the two babies to sleep, and Morph was nowhere in sight. Odd, that. Morph didn’t stray from Jim’s side often. Jim had left him home today so he could drop by the space-port earlier to get the results of his entrance exams and then pick up his new uniform, but now he was nowhere to be seen.
“I think it’s about time we were on our way home,” Amelia said, rising from her seat and adjusting her uniform. “The children aren’t used to staying up so late.”
Jim nodded, rising to his feet to give her a practiced salute.
Amelia nodded in acknowledgement, and turned as if to go, but then she turned back to him, her expression serious. “One more thing, Mr. Hawkins—and this must remain strictly between us, is that understood?”
Jim blinked in surprise, but nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” He was curious to hear what was so important she wanted it to remain a secret—and between them, no less. They weren’t all that close, but ever since he had expressed his desire to attend the Academy, she’d seemed to take it upon herself to see to the task of grooming him for the position personally.
She eyed him speculatively, then pressed her lips together. “Well, there's no beating around the bush about this. I'll be as frank with you as I can, Mr. Hawkins. There have been some unsettling reports of pirates loitering around the space-port, and some of those reports have suggested pirates have landed on Montressor itself. I want you to promise me you won’t go looking for any of them. You must focus on your studies. Once you’re officially part of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy, then—and only then—you can worry about them. Understood?”
For a moment, Jim forgot how to breathe. Pirates, here. Despite everything they had been through, he wasn’t foolish enough to go seek pirates out himself, but the way she wanted him to promise he wouldn't go looking for them... warning bells rang in his head.
“Is Silver one of them?” he demanded.
“Mr. Hawkins, I am not at privilege to—”
“He is, isn’t he? That’s why you want to make me promise not to go find them!” he whispered hoarsely, barely managing to keep his voice from rising.
Amelia put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him to the window, her eyes darting left and right as if she expected someone to overhear them, though the only ones left were close friends and family. “Mr. Hawkins, understand me when I tell you that if I could tell you more, I would, but I’ve already breached at least a dozen protocols to tell you this much, and it's only because of what we've been through I'm even telling you this much. He’s a wanted man, a pirate. No matter what you feel for Silver, you must promise me you will not seek these pirates out.”
Jim gnashed his teeth together, staring out the window into the darkness. Amelia’s eyes were focused on him for once, and not their surroundings, her nails almost digging into his shoulder. Jim chewed the inside of his cheek, stewing, then caught... a flicker of something outside. Like a shadow. A familiar shadow. His heart skipped a beat, but through sheer force of will he managed to keep the surprise and hope off his face.
“All right,” he ground out, turning back to Amelia. “I promise I won’t go looking for those pirates.”
“Good lad,” she said, loosening her hold on him and patting his shoulder comfortingly, almost motheringly. “I know it was difficult, but it’s the right thing to do.”
“I know,” he said, his gaze shifting back to the window.
The shadow was gone.
“I'll keep you informed,” she added quietly, giving him one last pat. “You should rest a little before you begin your training next week.”
Jim nodded, still staring out the window.
Amelia lingered for a moment, then let her hand drop from his shoulder and left his side. Jim saw her look over her shoulder at him in the window's reflection, brow furrowed, but then she went over to Doppler and gathered up the basket with the other two children. Jim noticed his mother drift over to them to bid them goodnight in the reflection, but then refocused his attention on what was actually outside. It was dark, and the familiar shadow he thought he'd glimpsed was, of course, no longer there. Had he just imagined it, or had he really seen what he thought he did?
I promised not to go looking, but if he comes looking for me...
He waited until Doppler and Amelia had gathered their children and bid his mother goodnight with promises that they would drop by again soon—Doppler looked as if he wanted to talk to Jim again before leaving, but Amelia touched his shoulder, shook her head, and that was that—before he told his mother he was going to go for a walk before retiring to bed.
“Are you sure?” she asked him, concern making her brow furrow. “You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”
“Don't worry, Mom,” he assured her, shooting her his trademark grin. “I won't go far. Besides, it's my last night on Montressor. I want to make the most of it.”
She smiled, touching his face for a brief moment, and then wrapped him up in a strong hug. “I'm so proud of you, Jim,” she whispered.
He returned the hug, feeling his throat tighten with emotion, and kissed her goodnight before setting off into the night. First, he checked the small garden where he has first glimpsed the shadow, but after a thorough search he came up with nothing. Not even any tracks to suggest that someone had been there in the first place.
Is my mind playing tricks on me? he wondered, scratching his head. He had been sure he saw someone out here. Maybe it really was just wishful thinking, his overactive imagination pulling a number on him. Was he really that desperate to see the old cyborg again? Truth be told, it'd be safer for all of them if he kept as far away as he could from this place. But that didn't mean that Jim didn't want to see him again, maybe catch a glimpse of that twinkle of pride in his eye. No one had ever looked at him like that before...
Abruptly, he heard a familiar cooing in his ear, and felt Morph nuzzle his cheek.
“There you are, you little rascal.” He stroked the small, pink creature before letting him ride on his shoulder. “Where've you been all this time?”
Morph chirruped something incomprehensible, then darted away from him, morphing into a hand that beckoned him closer.
“O... kay,” Jim said slowly, taking a cautious step forwards. “What're you up to, Morph?”
“This way! This way!” Morph squeaked, before darting around the corner. “This way!”
Shaking his head, Jim followed after the small creature, but Morph was quick. Morph tended to test Jim's endurance like none of the entrance exams for the Academy had quite managed. Chasing after Morph, especially when the little alien got it into his head that keeping ahead of Jim was a game, was a great way to exercise. But Jim wasn't interested in exercising now.
“Morph!” he called, skidding down the path that led towards the empty docks. “Morph, it's late. Cut it out!”
Morph continued to float ahead of Jim, a large tongue protruding from its mouth. “Pbbbbbbbt!”
“Oh, so that's how you want it, huh?” Jim rolled up his sleeves, bracing himself. “Well, you asked for it!”
He set off after Morph with renewed vigor, his boots skidding every so often in his haste to catch up. Mud splattered, soiling his crisp white trousers, but he ignored the mess even as he mentally winced, set on catching the little rascal and dragging him back home. Morph was always a step ahead of him, though, and began to lead him further from the docks, down towards one of the abandoned mineshafts.
Uncertainty blossomed in Jim's chest as he skidded down the slope. “Morph, this place is about to fall apart. Come back right now, or so help me, I'll—”
As soon as Jim reached the bottom and turned around the mound of earth, he slammed into something soft and warm, bouncing back. He would have fallen on his rump had something not caught him in time, the familiar whir of gears and a deep-throated chuckle making his head snap up in surprise.
“Glad to see Morph's been keeping you on your feet, eh Jimbo?”
Sure enough, Jim found himself looking up into the familiar face of none other than John Silver, the old cyborg himself. He didn't look all that much different from the last time Jim saw him, except for maybe a few more wrinkles here and there and a bigger belly. Thankfully no new scars or any other cybertronic equipment—that Jim could see, at least.
“What's the matter, lad? Looks like you've seen a ghost!” He laughed at his own joke, his belly jiggling from the effort. Next to him, Morph chirruped again, curling comfortably on Silver's shoulder, as if he'd always belonged there.
Jim said nothing for a few long moments, still wide-eyed and speechless. He'd been hoping to see him again, of course, had been almost certain that the shadow he'd glimpsed earlier had belonged to Silver, but actually seeing the man standing before him now, Jim found himself utterly at a loss for words. His mouth opened and closed dumbly, until he managed to get a hold of himself and embraced him tightly, burying his face in his chest.
“Ah, Jimbo.” Silver returned the hug, then patted his shoulder fondly. “I'm glad to see you too, lad.”
Jim pulled away, wiping at his eyes. Now that he was sure Silver was no apparition, it wasn't so difficult to talk anymore, though the words came haltingly. “What... what are you doing here? I mean, it's not that I'm not glad to see you, but... there are patrols, and then there's the Royal Navy... you're a wanted man! You'll be hanged if they get their hands on you!”
Silver just laughed in amusement. “Why d'ya think we're meeting near the mines, lad?” He winked, an oddly charming gesture despite only having one good eye. “Besides, most folk think they're haunted. I figured I could spare a few moments to congratulate you.”
“But what if—wait, what? Congratulate me for what?” he asked dumbly.
“Oh, is this fancy white uniform only for show, then?” He poked and prodded at Jim's clothing, his metallic fingers jabbing into his sides in a ticklish manner. “Then again, doesn't look so white anymore.”
Jim glanced down at himself, taking in the state of his clothes for the first time. He thought he'd only find a little mud, but it extended well above his knees, and if his eyes didn't deceive him, there were a few tears to contend with, too.
“Oh, crap.”
“I won't argue with that,” Silver muttered, nodding thoughtfully.
Jim shot Morph a glare, and at least the little pink creature had enough sense to look guilty.
“Ah, forget about it, Jimbo. They're just clothes,” Silver grinned. The familiarity with which he spoke was as if these past three years hadn't happened at all. “Now let me get a good look at you.”
“I thought you already did,” Jim muttered, gesturing uselessly at his uniform.
“Not the uniform.”
Silver gripped Jim's shoulders gently, and Jim lifted his head. He stared up at Silver in confusion, but then he realized Silver's focus was on his face. The cyborg's eyes darted across his features, and he even tilted his head every so often, as if trying to get as good a look at Jim as he could.
“You've grown, lad. You're beaming like a solar flare. And I see you got rid of that ponytail of yours.”
Jim shrugged helplessly, a small chuckle escaping him. “Wasn't really regulation.”
“Well, what can you do. Rules are rules.” He paused, smirking. “But that doesn't mean they can't be broken every once in a while.”
“You mean like with you and those other pirates landing here so close to the Royal Navy's headquarters?” Jim joked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Silver's face abruptly grew serious, the laughter and pride fading from his eyes. “What other pirates?” he asked quietly.
Jim felt a chill crawl down his spine. “You... you didn't come with them, did you? You came alone.”
The cyborg was silent for several long moments. He dropped his hands from Jim's shoulders, then straightened. “They must've followed my trail,” he muttered.
“Wait, you're being followed? Why? What's going on?”
“No time to explain, lad. It's best I be going before I bring disaster on your heads again.”
“But if you're in trouble—!”
Silver cut him off with a swift gesture. “I took a great risk coming here. I... I just wanted to see your face again, wanted man be damned.”
There was a longing in Silver's gaze. He had seen it dozens of times on his mother's face this very evening, when she thought he hadn't noticed her looking at him. Jim could feel the same longing keenly in his chest, and for a brief moment he wished he could cast aside all his responsibilities and follow Silver wherever he went, no matter the consequences. But despite Jim's longing, he knew he has made the right choice in returning home after Treasure Planet. And he knew that staying behind, again, was the right choice here, too.
“I'll see you around, Jimbo,” Silver said quietly, giving him one last hug.
Jim clung to him tightly, not wanting to let go. But let go they both did, and with a last goodbye, Silver vanished into the night. Jim remained standing there in the cold for a long time, Morph curled sadly on his shoulder.
“It was the right choice, Morph,” he whispered, still staring off into the night.
He just wished it didn't hurt so much.