Our Treasure (Jim Hawkins x Female Reader) [COMPLETED]

Four

It's not until I'm curled in my usual spot by the stove, replaying the events of the day in my mind, that I realise I didn't thank Jim. I should, he sort of saved my life after all. Sighing, I get up to go find him.

The spot where he usually sleeps is empty when I get there, so I head up to the deck. I almost walk straight into John on the stairs, and only catch my balance on the rail.

"Have you seen Jim anywhere?" I ask.

"Jimbo?" he raises an eyebrow, then nods back up towards the deck. "Aye, 'e's up there."

"Right, thanks."

"Lass," he stops me as I try to squeeze past, bending down so that he's eye level with me. "Be careful, eh? Don't go... Oh, you know what I mean."

"Yup," I nod, ignoring the heavy lump of guilt in my gut. 

"There's a good girl." He squeezes my shoulder, smiling.

It only takes a quick sweep of the rigging to spot Jim's hunched figure against the starry expanse of outer space, sitting with his legs crossed. I climb up beside him, sitting upright for once.

"What are you doing?" I ask, eyeing his hands. He's fiddling with something in his lap, repeating the same movements over and over again.

"Nothing," he says, holding out his hands to show a short piece of rope tied into a neat knot.

"It wasn't your fault." I turn sideways so I'm facing him, resting my back against a taught piece of rope.

"The lifelines came lose, I was the one who tied them. There isn't that much to it."

"The lifelines stopped me falling. I pulled myself back in on it, and it only came lose or broke or whatever after I was holding onto the ship. I mean," I lift up the side of my shirt, displaying the line of faint purple from where the rope pulled tight around my waist, "it caught me, see?"

"You don't get it, (Y/N). I screwed up. I thought for a second—you know what? Forget it."

"No."

He raises his head, meeting my gaze for a second.

"You saved my life, Jim. That's not something I'm just gonna forget. And so what if you screwed up? We all screw up. I mean, I've fallen off the rigging and nearly thrown a knife straight through John too many times to count, and I get that this is a little bit bigger than kitchen knives and ropes, but it's the same principle. I wouldn't be here without you."

He finally looks up at me, holding my gaze as if looking for truth in my words. Suddenly, he leans forwards and hugs me tightly, letting go almost immediately. "Thanks, (Y/N)."

"No problems." I smile, hoping that the dimness will hide my blush.

We sit in mostly comfortable silence for a while, when a thought occurs to me.

"Hey," I venture, "you know how when we were bringing the skip back in you had plans to make people see you differently at home. What did you mean?"

"Might be a shock, but I'm not exactly number one." He laughs ruefully, picking at a thread on the hem of his shirt.

"Number two?" I joke.

"Nah, I'm a bit of a loser, actually."

"I don't believe you," I laugh, punching his arm.

"It's true!" he shoves me away playfully, then continues, "I had a couple of run-ins with cops, my teachers hate me, and my mom's disappointed all the time."