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Lincoln bowed his head, shaking it amusedly. He still had a bit of a smile on his lips as he retreated into his mind to think. Jack was the only person he ever felt real with. He didn’t want this to end. He looked up again when he recognized the warehouse he’d set up shop in. “Ah, and here we are.”
Jack was still smiling. He nodded. "Alright." he brushed a lock of red hair out of his face, and smiled over at Lincoln.
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Lincoln pushed open the heavy warehouse door after a bit of effort. At last, the door heaved open, and Lincoln stepped inside. Without a heater, the inside was still just as cold as the outside—except without the wind.
Jack followed him inside. "Jesus Christ, it's still cold!" he exclaimed. "Uhm…should i light a fire somewhere?" he asked, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.
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He closed the door shortly after Jack followed him. Without the light from the day, the warehouse turned nearly pitch black, except for a few rays of light peeking in through small cracks in the boarded windows. “There’s a fireplace down here or a heater upstairs,” Lincoln replied, using muscle memory to shuffle over to his desk where an oil lamp was. “Let’s go upstairs, it gets warmer up there quicker. It’s also more comfortable.” He lit the lamp, and a soft orange glow illuminated his features. He looked up to Jack.
Jack smiled. "Alright." he replied, and headed up the stairs, the wood creaking beneath his feet. He stopped at the top of the stairs to wait for Lincoln, adjusting his coat a little as he waited. He was still smiling.
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Lincoln followed him up the stairs, slow and careful with the lamp balanced in his hand. At last, he reached the top. “Let’s add some light and heat up here, shall we?”
Jack nodded. "Yeah. I can light the fire, if you give me the supplies." he replied, heading over to the fireplace and starting to build up the wood in a good position for a fire.
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“Of course,” Lincoln used the light to find the matches, which were in a drawer near the living room fireplace. He handed them to Jack once he found them.
The living room was barely a living space. It was small, with only a worn couch in front of the fireplace. That room branched off into the two bedrooms down a hallway, and the kitchen. He really needed an actual house.
Jack took the matches, and lit the fire, blowing on it gently to get it lit. He was crouched in front of the fireplace. He glanced around for a moment. "So uhm…why are you living here?" he asked slowly. "You don't have to answer if that's rude of me or anything."
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“Oh, it’s alright. I don’t find it rude…” he answered quietly, sitting down on his couch. “It’s cheap, and it gives me space to work. It’s also nice living under everyone else’s noses.” He chuckled half-heartedly, but there was a part of him that wished he didn’t live here. A piece of his heart that wished he was a part of a community.
Jack nodded a little bit. "Alright." he stood, then sat down next to Lincoln. Perhaps a little bit closer than would otherwise have been considered polite. "I uhm…I sort of understand that, I suppose." he ran a hand through his hair.
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Lincoln rested his hand in the middle of them like he did at Graham’s house. Except now they didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing—or hearing them. “I wouldn’t live here if I didn’t have to,” he admitted somberly.
Jack reached over and took Lincoln's hand gently. "I know." he replied. He hesitated for a moment. "I was…I was homeless for a while, actually. Before the whole…Time Corps. My parents were…" he shook his head. "I had made some decisions that they didn't agree with, so I couldn't exactly go to them for help."
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Lincoln blinked and glanced over to Jack’s face. He wouldn’t have expected Jack to be homeless. “Oh…I’m sorry,” he offered. “You have a home, back at your time, now right?” He closed his hand tighter around Jack’s.
Jack nodded. "Yeah. It was a few years ago." he replied with a faint smile. "Once I got with the Time Corps, they helped me back onto my feet again."
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“I’m glad they were able to help,” he leaned back against the couch cushion. When he first arrived in England, he struggled finding a place to live. He had used the money he inherited from his father to pay for college. He wandered around on the streets for a few days until he found the abandoned warehouse.
He considered something in his mind before speaking again. “I know I asked you this before, earlier today. But I’d like to go with you.”
Jack nodded a little. "Yeah." he looked at Lincoln. "You mean…back to my time?" he replied slowly. He let out a breath. "I don't know…" he trailed off, thinking. "Maybe for a bit? I don't know about permanently. You'd have to make a case to the leader of the Time Corps."
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“Of course, of course,” he looked off to the side, then back again. “I just want to see what it’s like in the future, how technology has changed. Oh, and if I or Graham have made an impact on society at all,” he smiled at the thought.
Jack ran a hand through his hair at Jack's words about Graham. "Yeah." he replied softly. "I understand that. And we'll see. It all depends on whether or not Tip gets fixed." he laughed a little.
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“Hah, that’s the truth,” Lincoln laughed breathily, falling into silence afterwards. He leaned his head back to look at the ceiling, which was cracked with water damage. “I feel like I shouldn’t have been born in this time period. All the odds have been stacked against me.”
Jack rubbed his thumb over Lincoln's knuckles gently. "Yeah. And I'd love you to see my time, I really would."
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“I would love that too,” he smiled gently. He swiped his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. “It’s warming up in here. Thanks to the fire.”
(gtg to bed soon probably, idk)
Jack nodded. He let go of Lincoln's hand to take off his coat, setting it on the arm of the couch. "So, uhm…" he trailed off, studying Lincoln for a moment.
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(Alrightee)
Lincoln glanced over, deciding that was a good idea. He pulled the scarf off from around his neck and peeled off his winter coat too. He almost got up to put them away, but when Jack said something he stayed seated, simply setting aside his coat to the other end of the couch.
(depends on whether or not I get kicked off the laptop lmao)
Jack hesitated. "I don't know how to say it. Never mind." he said with a soft, breathy laugh. He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair again.
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(Lol!)
Lincoln furrowed his brow. “Oh…alright.” He hoped he would have gotten a little more explanation. “Is it about what we were talking about earlier?” He guessed, “At Graham’s house?”
"Which one?" Jack asked. "The bar? Or…" he glanced down at their hands as he took Lincoln's hand again, then looked at Lincoln's face again, raising his eyebrows.
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“Either one, I suppose,” he answered, his gaze falling back to the flames in the fireplace. His hand was starting to get sweaty, from the warmth or nervousness. Possibly both.
Jack let out a breath. "Alright. Just, uhm…" he shrugged. "I don't know where to start." he laughed a little, shaking his head as his eyes went to the fireplace as well.
