Boys at Play, 2nd June

"..Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. I don't know. It has.... its good ..times really. I cant deny that. It also has bad times..." Which the caning, the flogging was one of. But then, people were physically punished in other walks of life as well.

"... I mind bein' so low on t' ladder o' rank." He smiled faintly. "But who wouldn't.. given the chance that he weren't. Eh?" He shifted again. He wished the wounds to heal. Yet, it would take time and in that time he hoped that there were no terrible storms and no reason for him to strain them. "Do you mind it?..." Probably he did not. A chimney sweep paled in comparison of desirability when a ship boy's station was suggested. Atleast, there was no chance to get forever stuck in a very narrow place, and choke to death on smoke. Unless the ship was meaning to sink, but.. ah, no need to think of that.

"I don't mind it - rather like it. It's better'n pickin' oakum all day," Terry said, and looked down at his hand. They'd been work-roughened and tar-stained before he'd ever set foot aboard Terpsy, simply from doing polly every day since he could remember. "Better'n goin' crawlin' up chimneys, that's for sure," he added.

"If... If you was like me. I mean, if you'd never bin a middy, d'you reckon you'd like bein' 'ere, bein' a boy like me?" he asked looking up.

"...If I'd never been a middy?.. You mean, if I joined as a shipsboy?" He thought about it. If he had not been a middie and had thus been poor, if he had been nothing but a lad whose fortune or misfortune caused him to come aboard one of the ships, woud he have liked being a ship boy? He wondered first, if Button even meant to ask that.

"..I dunno...It'd not be a choice. I reckon." He bit his lip. "But..I guess there's probably good things in bein' a boy like you. An' there's a career right 'ere, if you manage ter survive to be old enough. An'.. there's t' adventure n' the prize money, an'.. there's t' skylarkin' an' t' frienship n' t' sense o' belongin' ter a group. T' group who's with ya through thick n' thin." He smiled faintly. "Couse yer all in it together an'... that binds yer together.." He sighed softly. " ..well, if I'd have liked that, I think. Liked t' know sum'body'd cover m' back an' come t' see me when I was in sickbay an' feel concerned about it, an.....all that."

Terry looked up at Buckles, a frown on his face. Was it possible...? No, it couldn't be. It certainly looked like it, though.

Buckles wasn't jealous of him and the other boys, was he?

That didn't make much sense... Well. Maybe it did.

He scrambled up. "I... I can't make 'em wanna be friends wiv you," he said, slowly. "Can't make you wanna be friends wiv them neither. Only... you can be friends wiv me, an'... an'... Well, we can go skylarkin' or whatever, like I do wiv Fingers and the uvvers, if you want."

The offer was made a little shyly, but it was there.

"You don't need t' if you don't want t', you know." It was kind of Button to offer, but if he thought he was obliged to do that, he could well feel free of the obligation. "..Only..." He hesitated because he was sure Button did not want it anyhow, but was just offering out of some sense he should. "...if you want t'... then I'd... ..I'd like t' go skylarin' with ye, as friend." He found his voice catching and quieting down and looked away quickly.

Like Button did with the others. That was different than just professing friendship, it was living the friendship, acting on it. Since he had only seen Thompson come to see him, he felt that the others giving such promise, if at all giving it, had lied. Even Button must be lying now.

"But.. I think you'd not want to. " He finally said. "Not like with Fingers an' the others. It wouldn't be like that for you."

Terry shrugged. "'T aint' that. D'you want to? 'Cause, well, it's up t'you - I can't tell you what to do, can I?"

He frowned. "See, ain't anyone ought to be on their own, like. Can't make you join in, but you can if you want. Up to you."

Maybe he wouldn't want to, though. Maybe he still considered Terry and the others to be beneath him and wouldn't want to join in with them, not really.

"...I do. " Was it smart to say that? "....Does it mean...you'd be t' sort o' friend who'd come 'round jus' couse he could or.. or when he's concerned like?.. Like you lot do, for each other?" He asked uncertainly. "I think I'd like to come. Only, not yet..." He could not help but feel apprehensive. What if these were again just lies, promises.

"Not yet couse I'm achin'.. and I could not exactly join in the skylarkin'. Can't exactly sit too well, and you ain't like Tars. You don't just lie around an' talk." He smiled faintly.

"You gotta do that too," Terry said. "It'll only be 'alf a friendship, else." He shrugged. "True 'nough, but we ain't goin' to make a friend do summat that'll hurt more - not any of us wouldn't." He looked around, wondering when the surgeon was going to get back, and hoping that the man wouldn't chase him out.

"I'll come. " And be concerned and do the things he wished he would have had others do for him. He was concerned about one man so far, aboard this ship. Thompson. Even first, when he had been witness to the man injuring his ankle, he had worried about his well being and sought his company.

"You wouldn't?" He looked curiously at Button."That's good t' know. "Hey, hadn't properly thanked ye fer... speakin out." He waved his hand a little. "You know wot 'bout."

Terry blinked, frowning a little. Speaking out..? His face cleared. Oh, of course. "'S all right." He dropped to the floor again, and sat cross-legged, pulling the piece of spunyarn from his pocket to fiddle with. "So... I telled you a bit 'bout me. You got anyfin' else you wanna know?"

"Hm. I do. Do ye....hm, do ye resent t' ones that are more well t' do than you?.. I mean, 'fore you were taken aboard, would you have thought it unfair that they had an' you didn't?" He asked that because he was curious of the answer and it was also a way to see whether Button would feel any resentment towards him, or not.

"Ye know that other middie." He dared say, but then quietened down. He did not need trouble, speaking out of turn would bring it running to them. "..well, did you?"

"Dunno. Well. No, not really." He shrugged. "Can't change fings, can I, so what I fink about it ain't goin' to change it. Be nice to have folks of me own, though." He wondered for a moment how his life would have turned out if he had got a family.

"Uvver middy? What uvver middy? Mister Fletcher?"

"True. But some'd be all envious an' all. ..people are jealous fer sillier things." Well, it was proof of a good character in the boy if it was true. It also meant he could count.. at best at the moment, that Button would not dislike him or wish to trick him just to get even.

"Folks o' yer own... like. .yer parents?" He asked thinking about it. "..um.. nevermind 'bout that.. an no.. not Mister Fletcher.. he's an a'right middie, though a might bit scared."

If not Mister Fletcher, then what other middy? Terry tried to keep away from the folks in uniform as much as he could. He knew the Lieutenants' names - he had a strong instinct for survival, after all - but he didn't really know the midshipmen.

"Yeah," he said softly, looking down at the grubby piece of string he was holding. "I never knowed 'em, not never. Don't mean I want someone else's folks."

"Hmm." He grinned. "Mebbe yer a child of someone of t' society who's had his sweetheart. " He wished he could sit like Button, but dared not. He could neither lie down unless..

He looked at the table usually reserved for the injured. With a nod he climbed on it and lay comfortably, peering down at Button. "You wouldn't want jus' some folk? Has t' be yer blood then?"

In the dispensary, safely removed from sight while he worked to become familiar with the array of bottles and vials and whatever else, Farley paused. He heard the voices in the sick-berth and it made him grin. It didn't bother him in the least that the boy De Guarde had visitors. Friendly overtures from the crew would do far more good than anything he might say to the lad. If there was to be any helping, it had to come from the crew.

Terry snorted. "You gotta be jokin'," he retorted, and shrugged, biting his lip. "Be nice to 'ave some folks o' me own, 'ave a proper 'ome to live in, 'stead o' the foundlin' 'ome."

He couldn't help looking around a little nervously. He didn't think Mister Farley was going to be as hard a master as the purser was, but he wouldn't like to take the chance that he wasn't, not really, and wondered what he'd do if he walked in on them.

"Well...you'd still be goin' off like I did. And you'd still not live at home but on a big ship.. or d' ye think your folk would not send you of then?" He asked curiously, forgetting that they had the surgeon possibly listening in on them.

"You a'right down there?" He asked curiously. "You kinda look a bit stiff."

"I got no idea," Terry said, trying to imagine having a proper family at all, and failing. He leaned back against the side of the ship and grinned up at Buckles. "I's fine, thanks, honest."

"... 's good then. An'... Button. You've got a family. T' whole Terpsy's your family. T' captain's a bit like a father. Though I dunno who's your mother...couse there ain't a lieutenant who's like a mom'." He grinned at Button. "Mebbeh you willl soon be wishin' you wasn't having a family.. once you realise that.!"

"Mebbe so, but 't ain't the same, I don't fink," Terry opined, and then blinked, scandalised. "You can't go sayin' fings like that 'bout the Captain," he said, sounding shocked at the very thought. "'T ain't right."

Button was shocked. He'd done something wrong, said it, more like it. De Guarde visibly flinched. He backed away slightly and dropped his gaze. "Nevermind then.." He said in a hurry. "I'm sorry.. Didn' mean t'. I swear I didn'." He did not want to get flogged. He was a good lad now. Obedient, quiet lad.

He chewed on his lip.

"..so...so lets talk 'bout summat else, though if .. if there's someone as who gets injured and comes here for help, I'll be helpin' them.. yer understand?"

Buckles' flinch made Terry bite his lip and look at him in concern. "It... You... I ain't goin' to tell, 'course I wouldn't." He fiddled with the string and shifted a bit closer to the other boy, lowering his voice when he spoke again. "I mean... I mean, the Captain's nearly God an'... He's awful scary to talk to."

Only, he had smiled, or very nearly. And he hadn't been angry with Terry, not even when he'd dropped his hat on the deck. He'd picked it up and given it back - the Captain.

So... maybe Buckles was right, nearly?

"He is. He must be." The boy did not smile. He kept his voice equally low, but he looked as though he would certainly not speak of the captain as anything else but god. He was stupid to suggest something that could reach the ears of the officers and..

" Button. Why's you named Button anyway?.." He hesitated. "Or....if you want something else... or'd like to go or.... you're always free to do as you want. I do need to stay here, for mos' o' the time. Which is jus' as well. I think it's.. .real interestin. Treatin' someone's injury n'all. Helping with the things, getting bottles, gettin' all sorts of things. I don't mind it. At all."

He shrugged. "Dunno. Gotta 'ave some sort o' name, ain't I? Ain't goin' anywhere, neither - why should I? Unless you want me to go, so's you can 'ave some time to yourself."

And he could understand it if that was the case - privacy was precious in a ship the size of Terpsy, with 200 men living on one deck.