@intolerablexsacrifice [x]

“Exactly!” The word was sharp, snapping from him with force enough to strike if only words could land physical blows. “I was dead to you so what fucking purpose did killing her serve? Damn you James,” The curse of his name hurt, was agony to spill – for so long it had been Flint he spat into the dirt when he needed something to direct his hate upon – but to know that Flint was his James, that the two were one and the same – !

“Why.” There was a dangerous precipice here, notable mostly by the suddenness of his calm. “My father, I could forgive. My father I could understand.” Indeed, he did. On both counts, in fact. He forgave, unquestioningly and without fanfare, the death of his father at James’ hands. He understood it, completely and without any need for explanation – but this – what harm could she possibly have done? 

Whom would care that Flint was McGraw, even if she did speak of it? McGraw was disgraced and Flint was a pirate what fucking damage could she have done with that knowledge? Had he given her a chance – for all they knew all this pain, and bloodshed, and anger and loss would have been averted. She could have told him the truth if she’d been granted the chance to recognize what was happening and why. Thomas had barely recognized the man before him, and they’d been on quite intimate terms. His mother had only met the man once, for Heaven’s sake! 

“But not her, James.” His voice was still in that eerie calm that promised only that the storm was not over. Only that where the clouds settled, was still being determined. “How do I forget that her blood is on your hands? How do I – how do I let those hands touch me, knowing the stain they carry?”