Chapter Text
The things that I have learned
It's a different kind of hurt
Must hold the crown
Can't give up now
But I'm losing my ground
...
Don't mind me while I circle this drain
Round and round til I wash away
If you follow me down it'll bring you pain
I'm the king of misery
Terrifies me that you're willing to stay
Round and round til we wash away
If you follow me down it'll bring you pain
I'm the king of misery
"King of Misery" - Saul
After that absolute shitshow of a first court session, David had been happy to obey Jack’s hissed, “Private meeting. Now.” Without arguing, he’d followed Jack to a private office without a nameplate on a floor of Unity Hall he had never visited. Jack had just saved him from a firing squad and pledged his lasting friendship, after all. But here, watching Jack pace and drink expensive scotch like it was water, David was having doubts.
Jack stopped pacing and turned his back on David, still holding his half-empty crystal tumbler. Even wrapped in layers of expensive clothing, the tension beneath his skin was visible from across the small room, twisted and taut under his suit jacket. It looked physically painful beyond the fact that he’d just been shot maybe two hours ago and appeared to have declined pain medication. The stillness looked wrong, and, David realized with increasing anxiety, it was because it made Jack look like a grenade with the pin pulled, waiting to go off.
Jack had saved David’s life, had intervened on his behalf during the trial and then commissioned his own men behind Silas’s back to ensure his last-minute rescue from execution. Jack had sworn himself to David as his true friend henceforth and David had believed him, thinking that moment different from the hundreds of lies he’d watched Jack tell, some to David himself. But Jack was erratic, had been since David first knew him and long before. He had been fostered by an environment where anyone could be forgiven for developing sharp edges, had been trained that the only way to secure his own survival was selfishness at the expense of anyone else, that those sharp edges were all that kept him from losing what he had. He was a loose cannon in so many ways. In fact, David wasn’t even sure this was Jack’s office they were in, the massive portrait of Silas staring directly at the large desk seeming to be the sort of thing that would make Jack’s skin crawl. But maybe it was Jack’s office, Jack’s alcohol, Jack’s desk, and the portrait of Silas was there as some part of his veneer or as some sort of twisted motivation towards whatever goals Jack had. David sure didn’t understand that explanation any more than this not being Jack’s office at all, but he didn’t understand most of what Jack did and wasn’t sure even Jack understood his own actions sometimes.
So, as much as David wanted to believe that Jack would stand by his promise, as much as it would gut him to lose this hard-won friendship again, he really wouldn’t be at all surprised if Jack threw that tumbler at his face any second now. It would be a reflex for Jack, simple as that.
Jack lashed out.
David set his jaw to hold back a flinch, but the tumbler smashed through the portrait of Silas hanging on the wall, not David’s face. David found the torn canvas and whiskey dripping through the oil paint to be improvements. Then, Jack was all broken pieces held together by a ten-thousand-dollar suit, right arm rising jerkily to clutch his head in his hand, tearing at his hair. His muscles were still rigid, but in the way of an automaton that hadn’t been oiled recently, joints grinding together as he fought for control. “Fuck,” he groaned into his hand, his voice raw and bleeding. “Fuck. What have I done?”
David didn’t doubt that there was a decent-sized chance that Jack might still turn around and cut his throat, but that wasn’t his main concern anymore. All he could see was his friend alone and vulnerable. He closed the distance between them and locked his arms around Jack from behind, holding him together as all those broken pieces threatened to rattle apart.
Jack went still and cold, like a drawn blade, but it was for only an instant before he sagged and was sobbing openly into his hand, allowing David to hold him upright. On his own, he might have hit the floor by now and something in David’s chest began to bleed. How many times had Jack broken down like this and been alone for the process? How many times had it happened when Jack had felt utterly abandoned and the lack of anyone there to hold him had reaffirmed that? No wonder navigating a friendship with Jack was like crawling through no man’s land. He didn’t trust anyone under a white flag not to put a knife in his back.
“I swear to you from this moment on,” David whispered in his ear, echoing the prince’s words, “I am your friend.”
“Why?” Jack croaked. “You’re signing your own death warrant.” Abruptly, Jack shook him off and spun like a striking cobra. David held up both hands in surrender, ready for the strike, but Jack just levelled that vicious glare at him, jaw working as he fought back the tears in his eyes. “Get the fuck out of here, Shepherd. Now, while you still can.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I was never meant to be king,” Jack snapped. He looked unhinged, but it wasn’t the first time David had seen him like this and it was like this that he got the closest to actually knowing Jack beneath all his armor. He wasn’t walking away now. “If I’m the king of anything, I’m the king of misery and nothing else. My father had a fucking crown of butterflies if you believe the story, talked to God Himself all the fucking time, but I have never once seen a sign. I’ve never felt His hand, never had a single prayer answered. I’ve been damned in His eyes all my life and I was never going to be king and now I know why. Because I’m broken and weak and I gave the wrong person all the ammunition he needs to use me.”
“Jack…”
“No, David! God has never been on my side, never wanted me, and I’ve had plenty of chances to prove myself worthy and I keep fucking it up and this was my last shot. I can’t fix this. It’s over! I can never be king after this and Cross has everything he needs to keep me kneeling at his feet, kissing the fucking ground he walks on just like my father did.” David watched the pain slice across Jack’s twisted expression at those words with horror. What the hell had Silas done? Jack lurched forward and shoved David away from him and David stumbled, but kept his feet and stood his ground. Jack laughed once and the sound had all the bitterness in the world in it. “You still think you can save this country? You can’t do it here. You know where my father is, you went with him on his fucking pilgrimage. Go get him and bring him back guns blazing. He can take back the throne, destroy Cross, and reestablish peace.”
Sudden white-hot fury burned through David’s veins and he mirrored Jack’s action, lurching forward not to shove him but to grab him by the collar of his suit jacket and haul him close enough that they were sharing oxygen, close enough that Jack might fucking believe David when he said his next words. “I am your friend. I am not leaving you and I am not helping your lunatic of a father get back on the throne. That is not going to win back peace.”
Up close like this, Jack’s eyes were like the rain on the office’s one window, liquid and cold and full of silent misery. How the fuck had David not seen this side of Jack after all they’d been through? He was a prince, a king now, but the look in his eyes right then was the look of someone used to being told they weren’t good enough and never would be. He’d gone still again too. Was he getting ready to lash out and defend himself? Or bracing himself to take a blow?
David had never known Jack to not fight tooth and nail, but he’d never seen the private moments behind palace doors and there had been a time not so long ago when David had found Jack bound, blindfolded, and knocking on death’s door. And just the mere shred of a thought that Jack of all people had ever allowed someone to strike him was enough to turn David’s stomach right over. In a blink of an eye, his hands were off Jack’s collar and curling around his shoulders instead, a reassurance, not a threat.
The shift broke Jack’s stillness and his breath hitched, his face contorting again to fight back emotion. “You should leave,” Jack whispered, the words a rasp. “While you still can. Before I break you too.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
Jack stared at him, his jaw like marble. “Everyone else did.”
David shook his head hard. “Not me. You’re my friend, Jack. You’re my friend and you’re my king and as long as you’ll let me, I’m going to serve you in any way I can. We both know that I wouldn’t know political finesse if it bit me in the ass, but you do. You can fix this, I know you can, and I’ll be there to watch your back. I’m on this earth to save your life, Jack, that’s the most important thing I’ve ever done, and I swear I’m not going to stop saving you. I’ll take a bullet if I have to, but I’m not leaving you alone in this mess.”
When David called Jack his king, the other man’s mouth fell open and he didn’t seem to have breathed since. He was still again, but it was like he’d been poleaxed, like no one had ever called him their king and he’d never really expected them to, no matter how badly he’d wanted it. Then, like a marionette whose strings had been cut, Jack fell to one knee. David reacted automatically, thinking he’d fainted or something and trying to catch him, but he froze with his hands on Jack’s shoulders again when he realized that Jack’s eyes had never strayed from his and were very alert. His expression was clear too, as if he’d just had some sort of epiphany and his life had somehow gotten infinitely simpler, though David couldn’t possibly see how. Had he figured out how to get rid of Cross? Just like that? David knew Jack was clever, but that would be pretty impressive.
But then, Jack curled forward and bent over David’s shoes which were still caked in dust from the courtyard where he’d nearly been executed. And that…that was unmistakably a bow.
“I’m not your king,” Jack said, sounding surprised by his own words. Not nearly as surprised as David was, though. Had he lost his mind? Jack looked up at him then, though, still bowed low, and those rain-filled eyes were just as clear and calculating as ever. “You’re mine.”
There was only one response to that. “What?”
“After all I’ve done to you, to everyone, you would stand by my side and lay down your life if need be to protect me as your king,” Jack said slowly. “All I have ever wanted was that kind of respect from someone. And I do know politics better than you and when I say I will never be king, that’s not just my pain talking, David. After the mistakes I’ve made, I cannot turn this around. But I’m not going to walk away from my country either, or from you.”
David stared, bewildered. “Jack, what the hell…you are the king.”
Jack shook his head. “I can’t be. Not unless I want to watch my country burn and I won’t do that. We need someone else.”
David’s stomach sank. “Jack, no, not another coup…wait, you don’t mean me?”
“It’s you, David. It’s always been you. And I’m sorry I didn’t see it, didn’t want to see it, but it’s true,” Jack said quietly. “Maybe God never wanted me, maybe it’s nothing personal and He just already had you in mind. You saved my life, but doing that brought you to my family, to Shiloh. And yeah, you wouldn’t know political finesse if it bit you in the ass but I do and maybe I was never here to become king, but to make sure you did.”
Holy God, he was serious. And, best David could tell, he was lucid. As long as David had known him, Jack had put his desire to attain the throne ahead of everything else. Now that he had the throne, now that there were actual government agents congregating somewhere in this building planning his coronation, he was suggesting they overthrow him so David could be king instead. David, the farm boy, the soldier, the naïve country bumpkin getting tossed about Shiloh’s political machine like a dingy in a hurricane. The throne belonged to Jack. He was the one in line for it, he was the one who was groomed for it, he was the one who actually fucking wanted it, and he was the one actively sitting on it. “Jack, no. I’m not a leader and I’m not taking your crown from you. I’ve never wanted the damned thing and I’m not taking it.”
Jack scoffed once bitterly and shook his head. “It was never mine and it certainly isn’t now. Crowns only mean so much when someone else is pulling your strings and Cross will never not be pulling mine. That’s obvious. We have an opportunity here. Gilboa is balanced on a knife-edge and no one wants her to fall on either my father’s side or Cross’s. Let’s give them an alternative. We can get the hell out of here now and pick up all the loose ends, all the people who hate Silas and hate Cross and love you. We can rally them and bring them back here and we can fuck Cross up and put you on the throne. God’s on your side, the people are on your side, it’s right there, all we have to do is reach out and take it.”
“This is insane. Get up! You’re my king, you do not kneel to me and we are not…”
“David.” And he fell silent, caught in Jack’s eyes, full of reverence and faith. Then, the man he thought of as king said, “I kneel before you in the sight of God and make to you a covenant, that I shall love you as my own self and serve you as my friend and my king until death parts us.”
The air swept from David’s lungs in a whoosh and he stood there frozen, stunned stupid. Did Jack really just say that? Even more insane, he looked like he meant it. Sun bled into the room through a break in the clouds, bathing them in warm light, and a soft tapping broke the silence in the place of raindrops. The tapping grew louder, more erratic, and the sunlight became dappled with ever-changing shadows. Jack looked to the window then and raised a sardonic eyebrow. “So, this is what it’s like to be on the same side as God,” he whispered.
David followed Jack’s eyes to the window. A cloud of swirling, shimmering monarch butterflies was dancing in the light, wings kissing the glass and calling to the two men with their quiet intensity. Slowly, Jack rose to his feet and approached the window, staring in disbelief. With a flick of a finger, he unlatched the window and the panes swung inward on their hinges, buffeted along by the butterflies as they poured into the room. They moved together in a loose, untrackable formation, looping once around Jack before coming forth to dance all around David. When they were all there, dozens of them flitting about, a small collection alighted on David’s hair and he could just barely feel their weight where they chose to settle in the shape of a crown.
And Jack…if he weren’t busy being struck dumb by what was happening David might have expected bitterness from Jack, but there was none. Instead, the man who’d been raised to be king was leaned against the window sill, looking so casual and carelessly content smiling in a soft wondering way that was shockingly beautiful. Jack was attractive, David knew that, couldn’t have possibly missed it, but with all those damned sharp edges he’d never seen the man as beautiful. That was the only possible word that could describe that radiant contentment, though, as if Jack finally knew what his purpose was and was looking forward to fulfilling it. It was the smile that was the most shocking piece, but his eyes were stunning too, liquid and shimmering grey in the sunlight, locked on David while the butterflies continued to dance.
“You think saving me was the most important thing you ever did?” Jack muttered softly. “I get to help crown a king, one chosen by God Himself. Show me a greater honor than that and I’ll eat my shoes.”
The butterflies took off again then, slowly trickling out through the window and vanishing into Shiloh. The sunlight remained, though, warming the room despite the cool breeze. In the butterflies’ absence, David stared at Jack. That contentment was slowly fading with the butterflies and David found his chest aching. If that glimpse he’d just gotten showed what Jack looked like happy, then what the hell were the smiles and laughs he’d seen Jack generate since they’d met that had looked entirely different? Slowly, David answered, “A greater honor would be keeping the throne yourself, but I don’t get a choice in this, do I?”
“I’m pretty sure the butterfly crown is a sufficient answer to that,” Jack said drily. One corner of his mouth was still curled upward in that soft way, though, and David felt his skin flush.
Jack was giving up his throne to David. He’d made a covenant to him to love him and serve him as his friend and king forever and God Himself had sealed that promise with a swarm of butterflies. No one had ever given so much to David or so thoroughly demonstrated their belief in him. He stepped forward, slowly closing the distance between him and Jack to curl one hand around the side of his neck. His hair was surprisingly soft at the nape there where there wasn’t so much product and apparently the sensation was just as pleasant for Jack, whose eyelids instantly drooped and whose lips parted in response to the contact. “Then I accept your covenant with my own promise. You’re pledging to love me as yourself and to serve me and protect me as your friend until you die. I’ll pledge the same. I’m not going to walk away from you or betray you and if we pull this off, I’m not going to forget that you gave me everything that would have otherwise been yours. You will always have a seat by my side and if we live long enough to have descendants, yours will always have a place beside mine in the same way. I’ll never forget this, Jack.”
It was hard to tell because the expression Jack wore was so foreign to see on his face, but he looked moved, maybe even humbled. After a moment, though, the look faded and Jack dealt him that dry mockery of a smile instead. “Well, you’ll need someone around to tell you which end is up. Now, we have a lot to get done in the time before Cross sends someone to look for me, so let’s get moving.”
“What are we doing? Besides planning another damn coup, I got that part.”
“We have to get our inside contacts on board and we have to get ourselves outside before Cross’s men catch up to me. I’m tempted to stay and try to control this shit myself, but Cross stole all my teeth and my contacts out there won’t listen to anyone but me right now.”
David blinked in surprise. “We have contacts?”
Jack gave him a withering look. “I’m not going to pretend to have friends, that’s a pretty strong word for me, but yes, of course we have contacts.” He was in motion then, speeding to the desk to snatch up a piece of paper and a pen. David followed him and frowned in confusion at the map he appeared to be drawing. “Remember that my paranoid father built this city brick by brick. There are secret passages throughout Unity Hall, Altar Mansion, and all the other important buildings, and they connect underground. That’s how we’re going to get out and eventually back in. It’s also where we’re going to summon our contacts right fucking now so we can settle this and get the hell out. Is this looking familiar at all?”
“Is that the south stairwell?”
“Yes.” Jack finished the crude sketch, which generally followed the layout of the ground floor of Unity Hall but included a number of rooms and passages which were news to David. Jack pointed to one such room. “That’s where we’re meeting. Access is behind that fucking awful tapestry of the hunting scene, first right in the passage, then first left. Got it?”
“Awful tapestry, first right, first left.”
“Good. You’re going to get Michelle, Perry, and Reverend Samuels and you have to do it without getting caught by my mother, Thomasina wherever she’s lurking, or William or Andrew Cross. Being seen by any of them counts as being caught. It will not be easy because my mother will be stuck to Michelle like glue.”
“Wouldn’t your mother be on your side, though?”
“That’s hilarious,” Jack said without a trace of humor. David blinked in surprise and Jack glared at him. “I betrayed Silas and now I’m handing the crown to you. You have met her, right?”
Of course. Rose was terrifying, possibly the most vicious Benjamin, which was really saying something, and she put the future of her family being the royal family above all other things. And yeah, David had gotten the distinct impression over the last few months that what was between Rose and Jack wasn’t really familial love so much as Rose telling Jack what to do and Jack occasionally complying. “Right. Sorry.”
“Shut up. Not the time. Get ahold of your three people and convince them to meet us there asap, then meet me in that room. I’ll do the exact same thing, but I have a different list of people.”
“Who?”
“Hanson, Ghent, and Forsythe.”
The Chancellor and the Press Minister, sure, but… “Katrina Ghent? Is she on anyone’s side but her own?”
“Am I?” Jack asked with a sharklike smile. “Don’t worry about Katrina, I know what currency she accepts. Can you do your part?”
Perry and Samuels would be easy, he could see why Jack had chosen them and why David was in charge of getting them to the meeting. Michelle on the other hand…but she’d tried to make amends when he was in prison. She’d betrayed him and hurt him, but she wasn’t a bad person, David knew that objectively. She wouldn’t refuse to meet with him or betray him again. “Yeah.”
Jack shredded the map six times, then tucked half the shreds into his jacket pocket and shoved the others into David’s. He was literally just shoving trash into David’s pocket and it wasn’t like Jack had never touched him before, but for some reason the contact felt like a livewire through his jacket and it took everything in him not to flinch. Thank God Jack didn’t appear to notice. Saying Jack had had a rough day was putting things very mildly and the last thing David’s very straight womanizing friend needed now was his twin sister’s ex-boyfriend accidentally flirting with him. “Dispose of these unseen. Our new friends need to know how to get to the meeting and Michelle probably knows almost as many secret passages as I do, but otherwise that map was top secret. Normally I’d set a meet time so we can control the environment more, but this is more of an asap kind of situation seeing as the next time Cross sees me he’s probably going to slap an ankle bracelet on me or surround me with a personal guard or something. Just get your people and yourself there as quickly as possible and don’t look suspicious, okay?”
From the way people always looked at him here, David thought there was a chance that the word ‘suspicious’ had been flashing on a neon sign above his head since he first arrived in Shiloh. He sighed. “I can try.”
“Everyone that was in court today already thinks you’re my right-hand man,” Jack said, suddenly softer and almost reassuring. It was nice, but missed the mark a bit, as if Jack had never tried to reassure anyone and mean it before. “You belong here. All you have to do is act like you believe that and they’ll look right past you.”
“Fine.”
Jack hesitated, his jaw working again and the gears spinning behind his eyes. Then, his gaze dropped and he grabbed David’s right hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Be careful. Once we’re in that room, we’re clear. Just get there.”
David stared in disbelief and watched Jack lower his hand again, eyes still downcast. The kiss was the most obvious symbol of fealty someone could offer after kneeling and bowing, both of which Jack had already done. That would have been enough to floor David, but in addition to that he could still feel that brief press of Jack’s lips to his skin like an electric current yet unbroken. It had felt like when Jack had shoved that paper in his jacket but much stronger, which meant that it wasn’t a fluke. Was he attracted to Jack? Since when and why now at such a stressful and frankly inconvenient time? “You too,” David said, tripping over the words.
Jack met his eyes again for only an instant, just long enough for David to see naked emotion churning there, far too complicated to try and name. Then, Jack spun on his heel and was out the door.