As a Thomas prompt: Thomas and James moving to a city post-canon because Thomas has tilled enough fields to last a lifetime. Thomas rediscovering some of his old pursuits and pastimes that he didn’t think he’d get to indulge in ever again.

complaininginthedark:

“If I ever see a field again it will be too soon,” Thomas sighed, laying his head on James’ shoulder. “I’ve seen enough sugarcane and tilled enough Earth to last two lifetimes; yours and my own. And I don’t wish to do so ever again.”

He hoped James heard his sincerity despite the humour in his voice. They were sat on one of the small beds they had been able to purchase for the night in a small inn a day’s ride from the plantation. James had insisted they sleep and rest for the night, to start afresh the morning after. Thomas had been reluctant to stop. It had felt as though stopping would mean he would be taken back. James would be taken from him and he would go back to sitting in the dark alone at night and standing alone tilling dirt in the day.

The thought made him retch.

They made their way to the nearest town and found a small, rundown house for sale to anyone who would take it. With the few belongings they had between them the small rooms stayed rather empty. James found old wood from a scrapyard and made a table. They scavenged beds and cooking equipment and eventually, after a week of huddling together under blankets, they had a bed to sleep in and warmth coming from the hearth.

It was far from perfect but, with James sleeping beside him, it was home.

Eventually Thomas felt brave enough venture out alone, to find books and trinkets. He began to amass a small collection of classic tales, a bible, two more bibles, leaflets passed around town decrying the use of slaves and vocally against the British ruling in the Americas. He liked those. Some were pinned to the wall in the small room they made into a study. James laughed and pointed out how Madi would have loved it.

Thomas found some painting materials for sale. They cost a little more than they might have been able to afford but James simply smiled and handed them to him one evening.

“As long as you paint the sky, not the ground,” he had said.

So Thomas did. He painted vast open waters, bright skies and sunsets, he painted James as he had been when they met and when they reunited. He sketched birds and cats, stray dogs, horses and carts… anything but the ground they walked on.

He made several friends after a while. Friends who may or may not have been circulating the leaflets he kept on his wall. They had lovely discussions and Thomas found himself becoming more lively, more eloquent, his old knack for persuasion and argument coming to life again. It made him so joyous the whole world must have seen it.

The city held wonders for him after so long in solitude. He could do worse than to partake in the delights it had to offer.