happy sailing

Prompt (kinda): Okay I know we will probably never know about Silver’s exact backstory, but can please someone write a fic, of Silver having been in Bedlam? And Flint finding out and thinking of Thomas and kinda freaking out… and Silver is like “That is the reason why I didn’t want to tell you!” 

For @arzani92  


Flint sighed before taking another healthy gulp from his bottle filled with rum. He had started the night drinking from a cup, but as Thomas and Silver joined him they quickly forwent those in favor of drinking straight from the source. His body felt warm and fuzzy, and his cheeks were flushed a hot pink as his buzz set in. Looking to the men on either side of him, Flint came to the realization that if red coats suddenly burst through the door of their small home and shot him dead, he’d die a happy man. Laughter bubbled out of him like a fresh spring at something Thomas said—or, more specifically, how he said it—and Flint wondered at how lucky a man he was. Years ago, after discovering—mostly in part and thanks to Silver—that Thomas was alive and hidden away in Savannah, the red headed pirate thought he was the luckiest man alive. That God himself had deemed him worthy and had blessed him with a second chance at happiness. Then, just a few years after their reunion, when Silver had reappeared on their shores with stories of the sea and its adventures, and, most importantly, with love and hope in his eyes, Flint had thought he must’ve died. For there was no way a scoundrel such as himself could be so fortunate as to have both his loves in his life. Thomas, his truest love, and Silver, his fiercest.

Drawing a hand down Silver’s bicep and firmly squeezing the muscle there, Flint figured it was only fair that he could only keep one of them for any long period of time. After freeing Thomas from the camp his father had stashed him in, Flint had been spoiled with the man’s constant presence—something he wouldn’t take for granted any time soon. Silver, however, drifted in and out of their home like the tide. He did have other obligations, after all, and had to split his time between their home in Savannah and Nassau, where he and Madi had planted roots of their own and settled down. Then there were the men, too, who even to this day vied for his attention, for his praise. They’d never be appeased with Long John Silver’s retirement. And, as Flint suspected, neither would Silver. But Silver was here with him, now, and Flint thought he’d never stop feeling grateful.

The retired Walrus captain watched contentedly through heavy, half lidded eyes as Silver and Thomas animatedly debated their opinions on a book they had both read. It was a cheap, popular little thing that Silver had found on one of his prizes, and his first gift to Thomas as a partner. Flint assumed it was meant as a joke, not to be taken seriously, as it was a superfluous, easy read that would be forgotten in a decade or so. Thomas had cherished it, though, and read it immediately. And finally, after a full year of long winded promises and halfhearted evasion, Silver had finished the book himself and had stepped foot on the Savannah beach with a thing or two to say about it. Flint, in his fuzzy state, wasn’t much for conversation, but merely enjoyed basking in the presence of both his loves and listening to their voices. Keeping his grip on Silver’s arm, Flint leaned over and rested his head on Thomas’s shoulder, fully intending on taking a nap.

He was just on the precipice of sleep when suddenly, without warning, Thomas slammed his hand on the wooden table in front of them, jerking Flint into wakefulness. “Aha!” Thomas cheered, his eyes bright and almost gleeful. “I figured it out!”

Quirking a dark brow, Silver carefully asked, “Figured what out?”

“Where I recognize you from!” Thomas’s body hummed with excitement. “We’ve met before—in Bethlem.”

Head snapping towards Silver, Flint found his head suddenly clear and his eyesight focused as he growled, “What?”

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