Chapter Text
I know my legacy is to fulfill my promise to all my people who have trusted me, the gods will approve of us still.
***
Wood creaked as gravity shifted. A grid of light cut through the dank air and teased the men upon the wall, illuminating the crude and discouraging tallies scratched into the lumber. 5 days. 10 days. 15 days. 20 days... Voices could be heard above. The brutish crew of Hernan Cortez. They didn't know it but they, too, were prisoners.
A dirty and fatigued Tulio sat propped against one of the brig's tattered beams, with an arm draped onto one knee and his eyes half-lidded and lifeless. His stomach growled and his head throbbed. The man's slim build was a disadvantage against the firm floor, and his lower back began to ache.
He felt the familiar anguish of defeat, obsessively replaying events in his mind and wondering when it all became so difficult. When did his decisions steer away from lucrative and make a sharp b-line towards dangerous? He regarded a younger Tulio, who dreamt of a life of affluence, and wondered what he would think of the result of his habits. Feeding his partner and himself through cheap street schemes. Now jobless, landless, penniless, family less, and now much worse, captured... He was too smart for this. Not that the man believed in luck, but all things considered, he was lucky to be alive. He was lucky to have his best friend by his side. But Tulio was tired.
His blonde counterpart lied adjacent in a pile of hay, feeling the motion of the water and staring up at the blue sky beyond the bars.
"Do you think Cuba has cheese fritters?" he asked.
"We're not going to Cuba," Tulio responded flatly. Exhausted of escape tactics but still determined.
"Or maybe... maybe those turnips with bacon around them," Miguel continued, lethargically thinking out loud. Clearly hungry.
"Miguel," Tulio rolled his eyes, his own hunger titillated, "home will have all the bacon we could want. We need to get off this ship." Miguel's green eyes fell to look at nothing. His brow furrowed, bitterly pondering what life awaited them in Spain. Same old cons. Same old people. Stagnancy. Hostility.
"What if we didn't... go home," Miguel challenged quietly, knowing the answer but daring him anyway.
"We have to," Tulio quickly shot back.
"For what purpose?"
"Miguel."
"No really Tulio, I mean what opportunities could we possibly have there," the man began gesturing with his hands, more speaking to the heavens than arguing with his friend. "Nobody wants us there. Without money we're nothing. Sometimes I feel like we could be seeing so much more. We could be really living. But instead, we're choosing to be these-... street rats!"
Amidst his annoyance, a faint feeling of guilt welled up in Tulio's chest. Miguel and his wanderlust. Miguel and his free spirit. Miguel and his innocence. He was the world's only entity that Tulio cared for, and the only one that cared for him back. But it was only Tulio that understood just how deeply that care was rooted. He suddenly found himself thinking back to when the two men first found eachother. How frightened and pitiful Miguel was when he was adopted into a life of crime. And though the shorter man's confidence has since flourished, and the two were equals with many stories to tell, Tulio would always feel responsible for the other. Either by obligation or by selfishly keeping him around for his own reasons. He knew that it was both. But he did want to see Miguel happy. He allowed his friend's words to sink in, agreeing more than Miguel may have expected. He couldn't, however, ignore the humor of the two's dramatically skewed priorities. Even being shipped off into slavery, Miguel was dreaming of a life at large.
"...Okay."
"Okay?" Miguel echoed, surprised by the rare absence of cynicism.
"Okay. I promise," Tulio proclaimed at length, "that if we survive this, we'll... have some grand adventure or-... something. Whatever. Something will change."
Miguel smiled. Tulio the pushover. Tulio the provider. Tulio the closeted sweetheart. Despite wanting more, Miguel knew at the end of the day that any day with Tulio was an adventure.
"Well then you really better get me off this ship."
Tulio smirked before his eyes widened, dropping the same smile, remembering the predicament at hand.
"Alright alright," Tulio sighed, bringing a slender hand to his forehead. "Let meee uh let me think..."
Miguel gave his friend the silence he needed. It would be a while.
***