captainjamesfitzjamesofficial

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

>ignoring the smile he gave mr. best, james Will 100% grab harry and not let him fall

up, doctor. you're alright, man >big hearty pat on the back

My feet hurt

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

My feet hurt

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

@erebusanatomist48 and mr best. kindly.

My feet hurt

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

Jeames.

Apologies for the rushed message, but I have come to the conclusion you are right we cannot wait any longer to go after those captured men in the mutineer group. Once Dr. Goodsir and Lt. Hodgson are ready to go, we will make a group of five and attempt to offer any assistance we can.

Please stay on Erebus and keep the men's spirits up. Hope you

Signed,

Crozier

James does not receive the letter, so he does not respond to the letter. They have been walking a while now; James does not know for how long, just that his feet have started to get sore and the cold has started to become painful, no longer just a discomfort but now an active hostile force.

Mr. Best says he's seen the faintest light, reflected off the cloud cover, way off on the horizon. It's a stupid hope, but it's all they have.

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

James smiles, glad to see Harry understands, then squeezes his shoulder again.

"I am glad for your company, doctor," he says.

"Blasted thing—" James mutters, smacking his cell. "The further we travel from the ships, the worse the signal gets. No post can get through."

He pauses, reconsidering for a long second, hands on his hips, staring out into the void. He clicks his tongue, then starts walking again.

"Charles," he says, looking at @thebestcharles. He hates to ask this, but seeing as he has no other choice, turns to his current confidante and says, "Do you reckon this a suicide mission?"

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

"Guilty?" James asks. "For what? None of this was your fault."

If anything, it was mine, he wants to add, but he refuses to make himself look weak in front of Harry and in front of Mr. Best.

"The men have simply been cooped up in the dark and the cold for too long. They had to find someone to blame, so that someone was me because I am authority, and therefore, the reason for why everything is done the way it's done."

"Blasted thing—" James mutters, smacking his cell. "The further we travel from the ships, the worse the signal gets. No post can get through."

He pauses, reconsidering for a long second, hands on his hips, staring out into the void. He clicks his tongue, then starts walking again.

"Charles," he says, looking at @thebestcharles. He hates to ask this, but seeing as he has no other choice, turns to his current confidante and says, "Do you reckon this a suicide mission?"

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

James slides his cell back into his greatcoat and puts his arm around Harry's shoulders, viewers be damned. He squeezes him gently to him, then says, changing his narrative again, seeing now that Harry cares as much as he does,

"They're not all lost, dear," James says, voice softening. "I'm sure something can be done. But not now. Now we have this mission, these men to save, and what will come after, will come after." He drops his hand off Harry's shoulders. "They just... need to be guided back to their place again. Lost sheep, that's all. I am sure something can be done."

He gives a smile, though he's not so sure how well Harry can see it in all this gathering dark that clusters around the wan light of Harry's lantern.

He can feel Mr. Best watching them.

"Blasted thing—" James mutters, smacking his cell. "The further we travel from the ships, the worse the signal gets. No post can get through."

He pauses, reconsidering for a long second, hands on his hips, staring out into the void. He clicks his tongue, then starts walking again.

"Charles," he says, looking at @thebestcharles. He hates to ask this, but seeing as he has no other choice, turns to his current confidante and says, "Do you reckon this a suicide mission?"

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

Sir, perhaps, in order to stay warm, we should shave Goodsir and use his hair for insulation

James receives this message, the only message that comes through, and immediately locks eyes with Mr. Best, squinting at him. Mr. Best shrugs.

'is there.... something i should know about, captain?' Mr. Best asks.

James just slowly flips his cell open and prints:

Mr. Best, if this was you, know that I don't appreciate these types of letters in my inbox. There are very serious problems at hand here.

He sends the letter reply and raises his eyebrows at Mr. Best again, and the boy just shrinks into himself, shrugs.

'Sorry if i did something wrong, Captain,' Mr. Best replies, having no fucking clue what Captain Fitzjames is making faces at him for. Does he know that I doubt him???

James just sighs and turns and keeps walking.

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

James isn't glad to see him. He isn't glad to add one more life to the list of lives that could lost. And he isn't that glad he disobeyed Crozier's order, even though he knows he was planning to do the same. But he is glad to have a doctor, and he is glad to have someone he knows cares on his side. Someone in case Mr. Best turns on him, and yet another man to add to the group so it isn't just seven against one.

James sighs, heavily. Harry isn't wrong.

"The Erebus has mutinied, doctor," he says. "They exiled me, and shot at me as I ran, though I evaded their bullets and am not currently injured." He clasps Mr. Best on the shoulder. "Mr. Charles Best here, able seaman, was so kind as to join me in pursuit of what I believe is the only option we have now—finding those mutineers and saving our men." He starts walking, clicks his tongue. "Vile animals, those men on the Erebus, the lot of them. They do not understand the importance of hierarchy or command." James sighs, shakes his head. "I meant to tell Captain Crozier of the mutiny, but my letters were not able to be sent. As long as they decide not to take the Terror, it shouldn't be our biggest concern." He sighs again, pushes closer to the doctor, not ashamed to admit he's seeking his heat and his company like it's the last thing keeping him alive here. "I'm positive we will find those mutineers. Mr. Best here is an excellent navigator."

"Blasted thing—" James mutters, smacking his cell. "The further we travel from the ships, the worse the signal gets. No post can get through."

He pauses, reconsidering for a long second, hands on his hips, staring out into the void. He clicks his tongue, then starts walking again.

"Charles," he says, looking at @thebestcharles. He hates to ask this, but seeing as he has no other choice, turns to his current confidante and says, "Do you reckon this a suicide mission?"

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

James nods. The boy is right. There is no way in hell he's turning back now, and no way in hell he's asking that demon Crozier for help, much as he wants to.

Much as he's afraid.

Much as he knows this won't work.

~~~

After another long while of walking, maybe an hour, maybe more, Mr. Best shifts next to him, pointing out a figure on the ice. James squints through the dark, his heartbeat quickening in his chest. Maybe, by sheer goddamned luck, just maybe, he's found them.

But it's just one man, approaching them, and as he comes closer, with lantern light nonetheless, James sees with a good amount of disappointment it is only Harry @erebusanatomist48 (though his heartbeat quickens in a different way at the sight of him, feeling all-too-warm, breaking into a smile as he locks eyes with him). Before he can stop himself, he's saying,

"Oh, Harry, dear, am I glad to see you—" a shocking display of emotional honesty he should have tried harder to hide, and then—"Whatever are you doing on the ice? I was told you were safe on the Terror."

He's very aware of the way Mr. Best is watching the both of them, and he forces himself not to take Harry by the hands.

"Blasted thing—" James mutters, smacking his cell. "The further we travel from the ships, the worse the signal gets. No post can get through."

He pauses, reconsidering for a long second, hands on his hips, staring out into the void. He clicks his tongue, then starts walking again.

"Charles," he says, looking at @thebestcharles. He hates to ask this, but seeing as he has no other choice, turns to his current confidante and says, "Do you reckon this a suicide mission?"

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

"Blasted thing—" James mutters, smacking his cell. "The further we travel from the ships, the worse the signal gets. No post can get through."

He pauses, reconsidering for a long second, hands on his hips, staring out into the void. He clicks his tongue, then starts walking again.

"Charles," he says, looking at @thebestcharles. He hates to ask this, but seeing as he has no other choice, turns to his current confidante and says, "Do you reckon this a suicide mission?"

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

Jeames I think I’ve got something.

I’ll brief you in the command meeting tomorrow before we go out to find those lost men. (We are going to find them.)

Small detail: How many peaches are aboard Erebus? Sounds cockdumb I know but i need the figure. answer quickly.

yours in command,

Crozier

apologie— answer unknown— DO NOT— erebus is—

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

James had not seen the tracks. He had not seen anything really. He was just walking blindly into the dark, away from the ship, perhaps following the vague general direction he'd seen Graham disappear into. He can barely see any tracks now, and he is a bit impressed that this Mr. Best could. He clears his throat, nods.

"I was," he says, "You're right," and he glances skyward, towards the black void of cloud-cover, no sign of stars, then thinks on the fact that the compasses don't work out here, and realizes with a deep, sinking feeling that they are totally and entirely doomed, and that Crozier, after all, had been right.

This was a suicide mission from the start, and he had planned to take three men down with him.

James heads out, down and out, onto the ice, alone, with nothing but the slops on his back, empty-handed. He knows they've sentenced him to death doing this, and by the time he's far enough away from the Erebus, he's exhausted and out of breath and seeing double and so so so very tired.

No matter, he thinks. No matter. He's on the ice, just as he wanted. He'll find those mutineers, he thinks. Somehow. Blindly. Who the hell knows. But he'll find them. Come hell or high water, he'll find them, if it's the last thing he'll do.

He walks for what feels like an hour, he doesn't know, when he hears footsteps behind him.

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

James's eyes narrow further, and he shoves his gloved hands deep into his slops. The boy has a point. And he is much too tired to argue.

Much too tired and much too scared and well... company is welcome now.

After a bit, he attempts a question,

"Charles—" using his Christian name in favor of erasing rank, for the time being, as that is how Mr. Best wants this conversation played, and James figures it best to be on the boy's good side— "if you don't mind my asking you, do you know if it is possible to figure out if the direction we are going in is the right one?"

James heads out, down and out, onto the ice, alone, with nothing but the slops on his back, empty-handed. He knows they've sentenced him to death doing this, and by the time he's far enough away from the Erebus, he's exhausted and out of breath and seeing double and so so so very tired.

No matter, he thinks. No matter. He's on the ice, just as he wanted. He'll find those mutineers, he thinks. Somehow. Blindly. Who the hell knows. But he'll find them. Come hell or high water, he'll find them, if it's the last thing he'll do.

He walks for what feels like an hour, he doesn't know, when he hears footsteps behind him.

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

James stops, and Mr. Best practically crashes into him as he does so. James tilts his head at the boy in front of him.

"You would not," he says, and he considers his options carefully as he watches the boy. He'd love to have his support. In fact, he needs his support. But Captain Crozier was correct when he said no more lives needed to be lost. And Mr. Best being here is yet another life that could be lost, and an all-too young one at that. James must send him back, whatever the cost. "I disobeyed orders, Charles. They were right. I am no captain of theirs, nor no captain of yours. Turn back now, before they notice you're gone. I am getting my due."

James heads out, down and out, onto the ice, alone, with nothing but the slops on his back, empty-handed. He knows they've sentenced him to death doing this, and by the time he's far enough away from the Erebus, he's exhausted and out of breath and seeing double and so so so very tired.

No matter, he thinks. No matter. He's on the ice, just as he wanted. He'll find those mutineers, he thinks. Somehow. Blindly. Who the hell knows. But he'll find them. Come hell or high water, he'll find them, if it's the last thing he'll do.

He walks for what feels like an hour, he doesn't know, when he hears footsteps behind him.

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

James squints at the man—boy?—in front of him. Charles Best, he thinks, who he'd chosen for this mission.

"Mr. Best," he says, acutely aware of the vast gap in rank and class that stands between them. "You should turn back to the ship. They will have you shot if you are found on the ice."

James heads out, down and out, onto the ice, alone, with nothing but the slops on his back, empty-handed. He knows they've sentenced him to death doing this, and by the time he's far enough away from the Erebus, he's exhausted and out of breath and seeing double and so so so very tired.

No matter, he thinks. No matter. He's on the ice, just as he wanted. He'll find those mutineers, he thinks. Somehow. Blindly. Who the hell knows. But he'll find them. Come hell or high water, he'll find them, if it's the last thing he'll do.

He walks for what feels like an hour, he doesn't know, when he hears footsteps behind him.

[captainjamesfitzjamesofficial]

James heads out, down and out, onto the ice, alone, with nothing but the slops on his back, empty-handed. He knows they've sentenced him to death doing this, and by the time he's far enough away from the Erebus, he's exhausted and out of breath and seeing double and so so so very tired.

No matter, he thinks. No matter. He's on the ice, just as he wanted. He'll find those mutineers, he thinks. Somehow. Blindly. Who the hell knows. But he'll find them. Come hell or high water, he'll find them, if it's the last thing he'll do.

He walks for what feels like an hour, he doesn't know, when he hears footsteps behind him.