Fireweed

Four

James' first night in the cargo hold was a special kind of hell for him.  The place smelled worse than the pen where Dr. Colle used to keep those blasted dogs.  He held himself together for as long as he could, but a few hours into the night a particularly violent rock of the ship sent his body lurching forward and then smacking back against the wall, and he couldn't hold onto what little he had eaten any longer.   He found himself on all fours vomiting into the muck.  But as humiliating as it was, no one really seemed to notice.  A few of the people near him shuffled away, but no one complained or even groaned.  James doubted it had anything to do with pity or courtesy.  Those people just...didn't care.  They were already so dejected, so resigned to their situation, that they couldn't be phased.  And for James, who still clung to whatever threads of hope he could reach, a crowd like that was unsettling.

"Hey, you alright?"  Rome had asked, pushing through the others to get to him.

Moments after Rome spoke, James felt him lay a hand on his back. He fought the urge to shove him away and instead gently shook him off with a grunt.

"Dandy," James had answered through his teeth, his tone dripping in sarcasm. What a foolish question. If he was "alright," he wouldn't be on his knees retching. If he was "alright," he wouldn't be stuffed in the cargo hold of a pirate ship.

For as much as James hated being surrounded by so many dreary, defeated prisoners, he especially hated sharing the cargo hold with Rome.  Perhaps it was just because Rome was the first person he met down there, and maybe he associated him with the terrible place.  But every little thing Rome did pricked at James' nerves.  

Rome wasn't like the others.  James didn't know if he had any hope left, but he certainly acted like it.  Rome was the one spot of brightness in that hole, a tiny little flame in the pitch-black darkness.  And James wanted nothing more than to stomp it out.  Rome was friendly, warm, even hospitable.  He cracked jokes, tried to make conversation, responded to any sign of distress with concern and reassurance.  You'd think they were all sitting in his living room with a pot of tea!  The others' listlessness may have disturbed James, but Rome's attitude offended  him.  At least the others had respect for the severity of their situation.

And despite this, Rome just couldn't leave James alone.  He kept prodding him for conversation and following after him when James tried to move away.  Rome knew that he was being annoying too, he just didn't care.  He fed off of the reactions the irritable stranger gave him.  James was the only other person in the room who hadn't sunk into the hopelessness and despair that the others had, and to Rome, that made him the one spot of brightness in the place.  The other prisoners were so draining.  They barely acknowledged Rome, much less reacted to him.  He couldn't annoy them or even comfort them.  They didn't care.  And it took every bit of energy Rome had to keep from falling into that pit with them. 

And then there was James.  Finally, someone with a bit of life left in him.  And after being so lonely and having no one to talk to, Rome didn't care how much of a pest he was.  He just wanted to be acknowledged.  The little talk he had gotten out of Lilly before had lifted his heart, and he didn't want to let go of that excitement. 

It was only when James pretended to be asleep that Rome finally backed off.  In between prayers for Lilly's safety, James spent the rest of the night brooding and fighting nausea until he really fell asleep.  When he awoke he was startled to find that he had no way of knowing what time it was.  But after a few moments, he guessed that it was daytime by the spots of light creeping into the hold along the edges of the door and the sounds of voices and footsteps above him.

"So Lillian," Rome said a few hours after James had woken.  He had started pestering James the moment he heard him stir.

James stiffened.  "Lilly," he said, his voice tight.  "Her name is Lilly.  Not Lillian.  She hates when people call her that."