Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
James
For the last several hours, James and Cassian had been cuddling and kissing and intermittently falling into light, fitful slumbers in their borrowed stateroom.
Even Cassian, as emotionally hard as he was in comparison to James, seemed not to be able to rest fully, so fresh was the trauma of the sinking for them both.
James, though, only ever managed to flutter his eyes closed for a minute or two here and there before becoming seized with panic and startling awake each time.
Since neither of them could nap properly, they decided to leave their stateroom to find some more food or maybe some water.
Cassian thought perhaps they should have their clothes laundered, too, if such a service was available, so that they could eventually change back into them and return their borrowed outfits.
Preparing to leave, James knelt down to scoop up the clothes he’d changed out of earlier, only to realize that he had left a few items in his pockets.
Exhaling a soft sigh, James first took out his wallet, and he knew without even looking inside that everything he’d been keeping in there—the photograph of George, a letter from his parents, and a few business cards from various establishments around London—was likely ruined now.
His heart sank, and he steeled himself as memories of the sinking crashed over him.
Thankfully, he managed to weather them without a repeat of the shaking incident, and he set the items aside.
Inside another pocket, James found the key to the B-Deck staterooms and frowned at it, heartache twisting in his chest. It was unbelievable that all of those beautiful rooms and everything in them were now at the bottom of the Atlantic.
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he set the key aside, too.
Lastly, James took out Cassian’s pocket watch.
He ran his thumb over the expensive stones before clicking it open.
It read 2:16 a.m., which must have been approximately when he had been thrown into the water.
Cassian knelt beside him. James looked over his shoulder and caught Cassian’s eye.
“I’m sorry it’s broken,” he said, holding out the watch for Cassian.
Shrugging, Cassian took it and said, “I thought it might be.” His forehead creased as he inspected it before one corner of his mouth curled into a smirk and he let out a fast breath through his nose. “Funnily enough, I think it might be worth even more now.”
James’s stomach roiled. He hated how accurate that offhand remark probably was.
Cassian clicked it closed and shoved it into the front pocket of his borrowed trousers. Then, he clapped his hands on his knees and stood.
“Let’s find John and Ethel,” he said. “They’re probably worried about us.”
“About you, you mean,” James corrected, picking up both his and Cassian’s piles of clothes before pushing himself to stand, too. “I barely even know them.”
“So? Weren’t you worried about Jacob before?
And you barely knew him, too.” Cassian took James’s hand and kissed it.
“Besides, both Ethel and John liked you well enough even when you were only our saloon steward, rather than the man who informed them about the sinking, likely saving their lives. Of course they’d be worried about you now. How could they not be?”
James smiled a bit, a little flicker of warmth flaring to life in his chest. It was nice to think that maybe someone besides Cassian had been and maybe still was concerned about him.
James was still holding onto that feeling of warmth, letting it calm him and comfort him, when he and Cassian started out of the room. But after walking only a couple of steps, a realization slammed into him, one so powerful it caused him to drop their clothes.
Maggie!
Maggie still cared about him. And she had no idea that he was safe.
“Cassian, I only just thought of something. Something important,” he spluttered. “Do you think people know about the ship yet?”
Cassian crooked an eyebrow. “People?”
“Yes, people. In New York or London or elsewhere. Everywhere. Do you think that people know?”
“Hm. I hadn’t thought about it.” He pursed his lips and hummed. “Not yet, I wouldn’t think. Tomorrow, maybe. It’ll be all over the newspapers, I’m sure.”
“I have to make sure Maggie knows I’m safe before she reads one!”
“Maggie?”
“Yes, Maggie. She’s my closest friend. George’s sister.”
“All the more reason for us to leave the room, then,” Cassian said. “We’ll see if the wireless operators can relay the message to her tonight.”
James ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck with his palm.
“I hope they can,” he said. “For God’s sake, I really, really hope so.”
Imagining Maggie’s future worry and heartbreak had James’s insides coiling themselves into knots, bile creeping up his throat. His breathing became shallow, each inhale and exhale becoming shorter and shorter, and soon, James started to feel lightheaded. He wondered if he might pass out.
In an instant, Cassian was there, holding him. James had been so frazzled that he hadn’t even registered Cassian coming over to hug him. But now Cassian was hugging him. And James melted into his embrace.
“I’m sure they can,” Cassian said softly. “After all, it’s their responsibility to pass bits of communication from passengers here on the ship out to friends and relatives elsewhere.”
James shut his eyes as Cassian ran a hand through his hair. After a moment more, Cassian pulled back to look into James’s eyes and then rubbed one of James’s cheeks with his thumb.
“Your friend will soon know that you are safe, James. I promise.”
James’s face warmed, and some semblance of calmness returned.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s like I’m constantly on the cusp of falling to pieces.”
“It’s perfectly all right,” Cassian said. “It won’t be forever.”
“And if it is?”
“It won’t be,” he said. “But if it somehow is, then I will be here to help. Always.”
James let out a long breath. Back on Titanic, prior to the sinking, he never would have imagined that Cassian had it in him to be so consistently sweet.
James had even thought that it was a slight miracle when Cassian had fetched him a finger of liquor in the Reading and Writing Room.
Not that James had ever minded Cassian’s selfishness, though.
He’d found it charming. Strangely and intensely charming.
But he was shocked to discover that he found it equally charming when Cassian was like this, too.
Attentive. Caring. Considerate. While James liked taking care of Cassian—he loved it, even—he liked knowing that, if and when circumstances called for it, he could rely on Cassian to take care of him as well.
Hit with a heap of fondness and gratitude, James lunged forward, slamming their lips together once more. Cassian chuckled as they kissed, making James’s lips vibrate in the most wonderfully peculiar way, which caused James to laugh a bit, too.
“Thank you, Cassian,” James said. “For everything.”
Humming contentedly, Cassian pecked James’s lips once more, his hand coming to cup James’s cheek again.
“You’re very welcome,” he said.
Cassian swept his thumb across James’s cheek a few times, back and forth, back and forth, and James let himself bask in Cassian’s care for a while, relishing every second.
Eventually, Cassian said, “Come with me to find our people. We have to show them that we’re both still faring well after what we went through on that Goddamned collapsible. I should speak with Ingrid, too, if we see her. Reassure her that her husband did not suffer long.”
James moved to retrieve the clothes that he had dropped earlier, but before he could, Cassian knelt down and scooped them up instead.
“Go on, James,” Cassian said, straightening to stand, holding the heap of filthy clothes. One of James’s socks fell, and Cassian picked it up with his foot, clutching the fabric by curling his toes and flinging it back up onto the pile. “Lead the way.”
Gratitude swelled in James’s chest.
Yes, he really loved having Cassian like this, too.
***
April 15, 1912
3:34 p.m.
Out on the promenade, James stood clutching the ship’s railing and staring off into the distance as Ingrid Calbot’s sorrowful cries echoed in his ears.
Only minutes before—or, hell, perhaps longer ago, considering the fact that he had somehow lost the ability to keep track of time—James had listened as Cassian explained to Mrs. Calbot what had happened to her late husband on the ship.
And her heartbreak had broken James’s heart, too.
All that time, James had sat nearby silently, Ingrid’s palpable heartache calling forth memories from that fateful night on the water. Soon, James’s heart had begun to race, and he’d started to shake as violently as when he’d first arrived on Carpathia.
Shutting his eyes, James cursed himself for being so weak.
He had wanted to be respectful to Jacob.
To sit through the story of what had become of the friendly, often-smiling man whom he’d met on the ship.
And he’d wanted to be respectful and strong for Ingrid, as well, as she internalized her loss.
But he hadn’t realized just how painful listening in on that conversation would be for him.
Before leaving to walk Ingrid back to her stateroom, Cassian had noticed James’s shaking, so James knew that once Cassian came back, he’d probably request that James return to their shared stateroom as well. Or, well, knowing Cassian, he’d order James to. It wouldn’t be a request.
“Here we go.”
Cassian’s sudden voice pulled James out of his half-formed thoughts.
“Laudanum,” Cassian said, holding up a small bottle of medication. “It’s stronger than whatever you had before. One of the physicians said that it would help with your shaking. He informed me that it might make you sleepy, too, though, so we’ll head back to the stateroom before you have some.”
“What about Ethel? And John?” James asked.