Painting with Words

The days following that tender moment on the forecastle deck passed in a blur of tension and unspoken emotions. Thaddeus's brief display of vulnerability, witnessed only by Captain Flint, seemed to have triggered a retreat into rigid professionalism. The warmth that had briefly softened his features was now carefully hidden behind a mask of cool detachment.

The rhythmic clanking of the engine room seemed louder than usual to Jasper as he made his way down the familiar stairs. His arms ached from another long day of scrubbing the deck, but it was the ache in his chest that truly bothered him.

Three days had passed since he'd seen Thaddeus with the captain, and the image still burned in his mind. He'd barely slept, tossing and turning in his bunk, imagining conversations between Thaddeus and Captain Flint, secrets shared that he'd never be privy to.

Jasper rounded the corner, nearly colliding with a coolant pipe in his distraction. Thaddeus was at his usual station, fingers dancing over a control panel with practiced ease.

"You're late," Thaddeus said without turning, his tone clipped.

Jasper winced. "Sorry, I was--"

"Spare me the excuses," Thaddeus cut him off. "Hand me the plasma cutter. We've got work to do."

As Jasper retrieved the tool, he studied Thaddeus's profile. The engineer's jaw was set, tension visible in the line of his shoulders. Was he angry about something? Or just preoccupied with whatever secret project the captain had assigned him?

Their fingers brushed as Jasper handed over the plasma cutter, but this time, there was no lingering touch, no spark of electricity. Thaddeus turned away immediately, focusing on the task at hand.

For the next hour, they worked in near silence, broken only by Thaddeus's terse instructions and Jasper's monosyllabic responses. The easy rhythm they'd developed over the past months was gone, replaced by an awkward dance of averted gazes and aborted sentences.

Jasper was kneeled in front of one of the larger boilers, elbow-deep in a tangle of wires, trying to follow Thaddeus's rapid-fire directions, when his hand brushed against a scalding pipe. 

"Dammit!" he swore as he yanked his hand back, sending tools clattering to the floor.

Thaddeus's head snapped up. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

The concern in his voice only fueled Jasper's confused emotions. "It's fine," he muttered. "Just caught my hand on something."

Thaddeus frowned, reaching out. "Let me see."

"Really, it's fine," Jasper insisted, "It's just a little burn."

"Stop being stubborn," Thaddeus ordered impatiently, repeating himself. "Let me see it."

Without waiting for a response, Thaddeus reached out. His fingertips found Jasper's chest first, the touch surprisingly gentle despite his harsh words. Slowly, he traced upwards to Jasper's shoulder, then down his arm, searching for his hand. Jasper shuddered involuntarily as Thaddeus's fingers ghosted over his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

As Thaddeus delicately examined the burn, the silence between them grew heavy. Jasper found his mind wandering to the scene he'd witnessed earlier on the deck. 

The words were out before he could stop them, unable to stay silent for any longer. "What were you and the captain talking about earlier?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

Thaddeus's hands stilled momentarily. "Why does it matter?" he asked, his tone guarded.

Jasper didn't have a good answer. He looked down at his hand, clasped gently in Thaddeus's, and frowned. The contrast between Thaddeus's calloused fingers and his own smoother skin suddenly seemed significant in a way he couldn't quite articulate.

But still, the dismissive tone in Thaddeus's voice sparked a flare of frustration in Jasper. He swallowed hard, his eyes still fixed on their joined hands. Finally, he mustered the courage to speak. "It's just... I saw you with the captain earlier. Up on deck." 

Thaddeus went very still, a muscle in his jaw twitching visibly. "So you decided to what? Interrogate me about my personal relationships?"

Jasper felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. "No, I... I was just curious. You're always so quiet, and seeing you like that with the captain, it made me wonder..." He trailed off, realizing how petty he sounded. Thaddeus's expression had shuttered, becoming the impenetrable mask Jasper had thought was long gone between them.

"Wonder what, exactly?" Thaddeus's voice had taken on a dangerous edge. "If the rumors are true?"

Jasper nodded, then remembered to speak. "Yes," he said lamely.

"I see," Thaddeus said, his voice cold. "And you believe everything the crew gossips about, do you?"

"No, I--," Jasper stammered.

Thaddeus went quiet, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance. Just as Jasper was about to backtrack, Thaddeus spoke.

 "My work for the captain is none of your concern, LaBrant. If you have a problem with how things are run on this ship, I suggest you take it up with our superiors."

The silence that followed was deafening. Jasper's chest felt tight with hurt and a growing frustration. 

"But Thaddeus… these rumors, the way you act around the captain... it's not right. You shouldn't have to compromise yourself for—."

"Compromise myself?" Thaddeus cut him off, his voice sharp. "You think you know what's best for me? What I should or shouldn't do?"

"That's not what I meant," Jasper backpedaled, realizing he was treading on dangerous ground. "I just- I care-. If the captain is taking advantage of you—"

Thaddeus's laugh was bitter and cold. "You have no idea what you're talking about, LaBrant. You don't know the first thing about my relationship with the captain or what I do on this ship."

Jasper felt his face flush with a mix of embarrassment and determination. "Then tell me," he pleaded. "Help me understand."

"Understand what?" Thaddeus's voice had an edge to it. "What gives you the right to question my relationships or my work?"

Jasper's frustration boiled over. "I just want a straight answer from you. Why is it so hard for you to be honest?"

"You want honesty?" Thaddeus's voice was sharp. "Fine. My relationship with the captain, whatever it may or may not be, is none of your business. You're not my keeper, LaBrant- and you're not my friend. You're just another crewman who needs to learn his place."

The words stung, and Jasper felt something snap inside him. "Learn my place? Is that what this is about? Keeping everyone at arm's length so you can feel superior?"

"You're out of line," Thaddeus warned, his voice dangerously low.

But Jasper was too far gone to heed the warning. The words tumbled out before he could stop them. "Is this how you repay Gus's faith in you, by selling yourself to get ahead?"

The words hung in the air, sharp and venomous. Jasper instantly regretted them, a wave of shame washing over him as he saw Thaddeus's face go completely still, all color draining from his features. The engineer's unseeing eyes widened slightly, a flicker of genuine hurt crossing his face before it was quickly masked by cold fury.

Without a word, Thaddeus stood, his grip on Jasper's wrist tightening momentarily before he pulled them both up. He led them to a nearby bench, his movements stiff with barely contained anger but still careful not to jar Jasper's injured hand.

Producing a first aid kit from a nearby locker, Thaddeus began bandaging Jasper's burn. His touch remained gentle, at odds with the rigid set of his shoulders and the tight line of his mouth.

The silence between them was deafening, filled only by the ambient noise of the engine room and the weight of Jasper's regret. As Thaddeus worked, his fingers moving with practiced efficiency, Jasper found himself studying the engineer's face. He noted the deep furrow between Thaddeus's brows, the tightness around his unseeing eyes, the way his jaw clenched and unclenched rhythmically.

Jasper wanted to apologize, to take back his hurtful words, but shame and lingering frustration kept him silent. He let Thaddeus tend to his injury, the gentle care in the engineer's actions a stark contrast to the cruel words that had passed between them.

The somber mood settled over them like a heavy blanket, the air thick with unspoken words and simmering emotions. In that moment, surrounded by the indifferent machinery and swirling steam, the distance between them seemed both vast and painfully small.

They worked for another hour, every movement, every instruction laden with unspoken tension. When Thaddeus finally dismissed him, Jasper fled the engine room, his chest heavy with indignation.

The vastness of space greeted him as he emerged onto the deck, the stars cold and distant. Jasper leaned against the railing, letting the chill of the metal seep into his skin. He'd never felt more alone, adrift in an ocean of doubt and regret.

Somewhere below, in the heart of the ship, Thaddeus worked on, surrounded by the machines that never questioned, never doubted, never felt the ache of unspoken feelings. Jasper envied them for their simplicity. 

The tension between Jasper and Thaddeus lingered in the air long after their heated exchange in the engine room. Days passed, each shift filled with strained silence and carefully maintained distance. Jasper's mind replayed their argument endlessly, guilt and regret warring with lingering frustration.

As night after night of restless sleep took its toll, Jasper found himself increasingly on edge. The close quarters of the crew's sleeping area, once a comfort, now felt suffocating. The gentle sounds of his alien bunkmates' sleep only served to emphasize his own wakefulness.

Jasper tossed and turned in his bunk, sleep eluding him as it had for days. The soft snores and occasional whistles of his alien bunkmates filled the cramped quarters. Zork's four arms dangled from the upper bunk, while Glix's amorphous form pulsed gently in the corner, changing colors with each breath.

Unable to bear the closeness any longer, Jasper slipped out of bed. He padded barefoot through the ship's corridors, letting his tired feet carry him to the upper level.

As Jasper emerged onto the deck, the starlight bathed everything in a soft, blue glow. The vast expanse of space stretched out before him, but even its beauty couldn't fully ease the weight of guilt and regret that had been haunting him since his argument with Thaddeus.

Then he saw him. Thaddeus stood on the very edge of the bowsprit, his form a dark silhouette against the cosmic backdrop. He balanced there, feet sure on the narrow beam as if he were standing on solid ground.

Jasper's heart leapt into his throat, a surge of panic overriding all other emotions. The bowsprit was treacherous enough for someone with sight, let alone a blind man. "Thaddeus!" he called out, his voice tight with alarm. "What are you doing? It's dangerous out there!"

At the sound of his name, Thaddeus turned, making his way back along the bowsprit with fluid ease that belied the peril of his position. As he stepped onto the main deck, Jasper felt a wave of relief wash over him, mixed with lingering concern and a twinge of the shame that had been his constant companion since their argument.

"Jasper," Thaddeus acknowledged, his tone carefully neutral. "Couldn't sleep?"

Jasper opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to respond. His worry over Thaddeus's safety warred with the memory of the harsh words he had thrown at the engineer days before. Finally, he managed, "I... no. But Thaddeus, what were you thinking? You could have fallen!"

A corner of Thaddeus's mouth quirked up in a wry smile. "Your concern is noted, but unnecessary. I know this ship better than most who can see it."

Before Jasper could respond, a flicker bright blue luminescence wisped past the ship. As Jasper's eyes adjusted to the sudden light, he gasped at the sight before him. A school of enormous, translucent creatures glided past the ship, their bodies shimmering with an otherworldly bioluminescence. They weren't quite fish, nor were they entirely jellyfish - they were something altogether alien and mesmerizing.

Each creature was easily the size of a small shuttle, with long, gossamer fins that trailed behind them like ethereal ribbons. Their bodies pulsed with light, shifting through a spectrum of colors - deep purples fading into vibrant blues, then soft greens and warm golds. The effect was hypnotic, like watching a living aurora borealis drifting through the void of space.

As they moved, they left trails of sparkling particles in their wake, like stardust come to life. The particles swirled and eddied in complex patterns, creating a constantly shifting tapestry of light against the backdrop of distant stars.

"They're beautiful," Jasper breathed, his voice filled with wonder. As he spoke, his eyes darted from the cosmic ballet to Thaddeus's face, lingering there. The soft, multicolored light from the creatures played across Thaddeus's features, highlighting the sharp angle of his jawline and the graceful curve of his cheekbones. 

Jasper felt a warmth spreading through his chest, realizing that his words applied as much to the man beside him as to the cosmic spectacle before them. He quickly looked back at the jellies, hoping Thaddeus hadn't somehow sensed his lingering gaze.

A corner of Thaddeus's mouth quirked up. "I wouldn't know," he said dryly, unaware of the double meaning in Jasper's words or the way Jasper had been looking at him.

Jasper blanched, mortified. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean--"

To his surprise, Thaddeus laughed, a genuine, warm sound that Jasper had never heard before. "It's fine, Jasper. Really."

Jasper stared, transfixed. In that moment, with starlight playing across his features and a smile softening his usually stern expression, Thaddeus was breathtaking. Jasper felt something inside him melt, all the tension of the past days dissolving in the wake of that laugh. But the tension quickly returned as the memory of his accusations resurfaced with unmerciful relentlessness. 

"You know," Thaddeus said, turning to face the vast expanse before them, "I don't need sight to enjoy the scenery." He paused, then held out his hand. "Here, I'll show you. Close your eyes."

Hesitantly, Jasper complied. He felt Thaddeus take his hand, a shiver running through him at the contact. Gently, Thaddeus guided Jasper's hand to the ship's railing.

"Imagine a blank canvas in your mind," Thaddeus instructed, his voice low and close to Jasper's ear. "As you touch and listen, paint a picture on that canvas. What do you feel?"

"Wood," Jasper replied, his own voice barely above a whisper.

"Good. Now, how wide is the railing?"

Keeping his eyes closed, Jasper moved his hand, estimating the width. "About... four inches?"

"What else can you tell me about it? What's its texture like? Are there any unique features?"

Jasper focused, running his fingers along the surface. "It's smooth, worn... there's a small knot here, and... wait, I can feel some carving. Initials, maybe?"

"Exactly," Thaddeus said, and Jasper could hear the smile in his voice. "Now, listen. What do you hear?"

Jasper tried to concentrate on the sounds around him, but found himself distracted by the low timbre of Thaddeus's voice and the gentle pressure of Thaddeus's hand on his. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

"I... uh," Jasper stammered, a flush creeping up his neck. "The engine's hum, and... um...

Thaddeus chuckled softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down Jasper's spine. "Focus, Jasper," he said, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

Jasper took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Despite his nervousness, he couldn't help but feel a bubbling happiness at being so close to Thaddeus. This gentle, patient side of the engineer was one he rarely got to see, and he found himself treasuring every moment of it.

Jasper forced himself to concentrate, painting with sounds now. "The hum of the ship's engines. The whoosh of the life support systems. And... a faint creaking. The hull expanding and contracting in the temperature changes of space?"

"Very good," Thaddeus murmured approvingly. His hand was still on Jasper's, and he moved to his side, brushing his shoulder against Jasper. "Now, think about someone who's never seen any of this before. How might they imagine it based on these sensations?"

As Jasper focused on the sensations around him, an image began to form in his mind, rooted in reality but enhanced by his imagination. The wooden railing beneath his fingers took shape first, its grain and texture vivid in his mind's eye. He could see the worn patches where countless hands had gripped it, the subtle variations in color from exposure to the elements of space.

The ship's deck expanded around him, the metal plating reflecting the soft glow of distant stars. He imagined the life support systems as a network of pulsing blue lines running through the ship's structure, keeping them all alive in the vacuum of space.

As he listened to the ambient sounds, he incorporated them into his mental image. The hum of the engines became a soft, golden glow emanating from deep within the ship. The creaking of the hull manifested as slight ripples across the metal surfaces, a visual representation of the ship's constant adjustments to the pressures of space.

Then, almost unconsciously, Jasper found himself adding Thaddeus to this mental picture. He imagined the engineer standing at the railing, his posture straight and confident despite his blindness. In Jasper's mind, Thaddeus's hands moved over the ship's surfaces with practiced ease, leaving trails of soft light wherever they touched, as if he were reading the ship's very essence through his fingertips.

Jasper envisioned the cosmic jellies they had seen earlier, their bioluminescence casting a soft, ever-changing glow over the scene. 

In this mental image, Thaddeus wasn't a mystical figure or a supernatural being. He was simply himself - a brilliant, complex man whose unique perception of the world made him all the more fascinating to Jasper. The image was grounded in reality, but Jasper's growing feelings imbued it with a warmth that made the scene feel almost magical.

Jasper's eyes fluttered open, his cheeks flushing as he looked at the real Thaddeus standing before him. The imagined version faded, but the warm feelings it had evoked remained.

A small smile played on Thaddeus's lips, and Jasper felt his heart skip a beat. In that moment, the line between his enhanced perception and reality blurred, and Jasper found himself appreciating Thaddeus in a whole new light.

"This is how I see the world, Jasper. Every texture, every vibration, every subtle change in temperature or air current... it all paints a picture. To me, the world is only as dull as my imagination limits it to be."

The engineer's unseeing eyes were bright with emotion, his face a picture of serene contemplation. As they stood there, barely a breath apart, Jasper felt as though something fundamental had shifted between them. The air seemed charged with a warm, tender energy. Whether born from deep friendship or something more, it enveloped them both, as vast and wondrous as the cosmic sea around their ship.

"I had no idea," Jasper finally managed to say.

Thaddeus shrugged, but his smile remained. "Few people do. They see blindness as a limitation, but it's simply just a part of who I am. It forces you to experience the world differently, to find beauty in unexpected places."

As if on cue, one of the space creatures brushed against the hull of the ship. The contact sent a subtle vibration through the deck, and Thaddeus's smile widened.

"Ah, there they are," he said. "Cosmic jellies, if I'm not mistaken. Their bioluminescence creates a unique resonance in the ship's hull."

Jasper watched in awe as Thaddeus tilted his head, clearly tracking the movement of the creatures through some sense Jasper couldn't begin to comprehend.

"Thaddeus, I..." Jasper began, then faltered. How could he express the turmoil of emotions he was feeling? The regret for his earlier jealousy, the wonder at this new side of Thaddeus, the growing warmth in his chest that he could no longer deny was something more than simple admiration.

Thaddeus turned towards him, his expression softening. "I know, Jasper. It's alright."

They stood there in companionable silence, shoulders just touching, as the cosmic jellies danced their silent ballet around the ship. 

As they stood at the bow, watching the cosmic jellies drift away, a comfortable silence settled between them. Thaddeus tilted his head, as if listening to something only he could hear.

"Jasper," he said suddenly, "would you care to play a game?"

Jasper blinked, surprised. "A game? I didn't know you liked games, Thaddeus."

Thaddeus's brow furrowed slightly. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely devoid of fun, LaBrant."

"Right, sorry," Jasper said quickly. "What kind of game?"

"It's simple enough, even for you," Thaddeus said, but there was no real bite to his words. "You describe what you see out there," he gestured to the vastness of space, "and I'll try to identify it based on your description. Think you're up for it?"

"Alright," Jasper agreed eagerly. "Let's give it a shot."

He peered out into the cosmos, searching for something interesting. "Okay, I see... um, it's kind of round? And glowing?"

Thaddeus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh, for the love of... LaBrant, is it a star or have you discovered a new bioluminescent space potato?"

Jasper chuckled sheepishly. "Sorry, I'm not very good at this. Was Gus better?"

Thaddeus snorted. "God no. He was awful. Half the time I couldn't tell if he was describing a nebula or his breakfast."

"So how did you ever guess anything right?"

Thaddeus's expression softened. "Gus learned to paint me a picture with his words. Like you did earlier, when you described the ship. Try that approach."

Encouraged, Jasper took a deep breath and focused.

"Okay, I see one. It's like a vast, swirling cloud of vibrant purples and deep blues. Tendrils of gas reach out like ghostly fingers, and at its heart, there's a cluster of newborn stars, their light piercing through the cosmic dust like diamonds scattered on velvet."

Thaddeus listened intently, his face alive with interest. "A Nebula," he said confidently, "Am I right?"

Jasper grinned. "Got it in one."

Thaddeus nodded, a hint of approval in his voice. "Not bad, LaBrant. You might not be as hopeless as Gus after all."

As they continued the game, Jasper's descriptions became more vivid and poetic. The vastness of space unfolded before them, described in Jasper's words and interpreted through Thaddeus's vast knowledge. Their voices remained low, creating an intimate bubble in the quiet of the night shift.

Suddenly, Jasper's voice took on a note of excitement. "Oh, Thaddeus, I see something interesting! It's a group of stars forming a distinctive W or M shape."

Thaddeus tilted his head, considering for a moment. "Ah, that would be the constellation Cassiopeia," he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. "Did you know it's often considered a symbol of love in astrology?"

Jasper blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in Thaddeus's tone. "I didn't know that. Why is it associated with love?"

"It's named after a queen in Greek mythology who boasted about her beauty." Thaddeus found himself continuing, "Her vanity angered the sea god Poseidon. As punishment, he chained her to the sky, forced to circle the celestial pole forever."

As he finished speaking, Thaddeus suddenly became aware of a shift in the atmosphere around them. The air seemed to grow thicker, charged with an unexpected tension, the word "love" hanging like a totem above them. The comfortable camaraderie they'd been sharing suddenly felt more... intimate.

Jasper's voice, when he spoke, was softer, almost hesitant. "I didn't know you were interested in mythology, Thaddeus."

Thaddeus cleared his throat, trying to dispel the sudden awkwardness he felt. "I'm not, particularly. It's just... something I picked up along the way."

But the mood had undeniably changed. The vast expanse of space around them seemed to shrink, leaving them in a bubble of charged silence. Thaddeus could feel the heat of Jasper's body next to him, suddenly hyper-aware of their proximity.

Trying to regain his composure, Thaddeus said gruffly, "Well, LaBrant, are you going to continue with the game or have you run out of astral bodies to butcher with your descriptions?"

Jasper chuckled, but the sound was different now, almost nervous. "Right, yeah. Let me see what else I can find out there."

They continued their game, time slipping by unnoticed. Their conversation flowed easily from celestial bodies to ship systems to theoretical physics. Thaddeus found himself impressed by Jasper's quick wit and insightful questions, though he'd never admit it out loud.

Eventually, Thaddeus asked, "LaBrant, what ungodly hour is it now?"

Jasper checked his watch and whistled. "0500 hours. We've been at this all night."

"Damn," Thaddeus muttered. "Day shift starts soon. We should probably get some sleep."

"Yeah, probably," Jasper agreed reluctantly. But he made no move to leave, and neither did Thaddeus.

They fell back into a comfortable chat, both seemingly unwilling to end this moment. Jasper hung on every word, mesmerized by this rarely seen side of Thaddeus. As Thaddeus continued speaking softly about the ship's systems, the ship creaking through space, starlight danced across Thaddeus's features. 

Jasper couldn't help but find his gaze drawn to Thaddeus's lips as he spoke, watching the way they moved, forming words that Jasper had begun only half hearing.

Before he fully realized what he was doing, he began to lean in slowly, mouth parted slightly, his eyes fixed on Thaddeus's lips.