Chapter Text
Jack and Tommy sit in silent trepidation, watching on as the archeologists work at opening the safe with the utmost care. Neither utters a word in complaint - the old thing has been underwater for 75 years, and holds the most precious cargo. They can wait for the safe to be opened with the respect it deserves.
The Lab diamond was the largest coloured diamond in the world, and had been on voyage to New York as an engagement present from the Halo's to whoever their son chose once they arrived. While Bad Halo, fortunately, survived the Titanic's sinking, his son, much less fortunately, did not, and he had sunk along with the diamond.
The necklace that the diamond was attached to was being kept in a safe in their room, Bad had said so many a time since the sinking. And now Jack and Tommy had found it.
The safe's lock opens.
"Holy shit." Tommy whispers.
The door begins to open slowly.
"We did it." Jack's hands lift to his head, sliding over the buzz.
"We did it!" Tommy yells, bouncing off his stool and running towards the now fully open safe. "Two years since the Titanic was found and we're the ones to only go and find the most precious, expensive, beautiful diamond in the world, and not only that--!"
He stops abruptly, eyes glued to the safe's interior. In it sat two pieces of paper and a ring. One with a diamond still solidly in place, but in no way the Lab diamond.
"It's not in there."
"What?" Jack hisses, leaning closer to the safe and blinking rapidly as if that would magically change its belongings, "But- but... No! Bad said it was in here!"
He sighs, sinking to the floor with his head in his hands.
"Get them all to the wash station, we'll see if there's any clue about what these are."
The first piece of paper is the most interesting. It's a poem.
It twists with words of complete adoration, of a soul so ultimately entwined in two others that the melancholy of the irony of the love letter being found on a sunken ship couldn't even be called depressing. The beauty and love in its words is almost enough to make Tommy hurl, honestly.
Ignoring the affection flooding the paper, Tommy is drawn to the date, scribbled at the bottom. 14th April 1912, to a KJ. None of the Titanic's stateroom inhabitants had such initials.
The second paper is far more crude, both in writing style and formality. It simply says 'Eat shit Schlatt', and is signed, even more fascinatingly, 15th April. There's no signature on the piece.
"Schlatt?" Tommy reads aloud, "Who the fuck is Schlatt?"
Niki, one of the researchers, perks up, "Oh, I've heard of him! He was a Democrat congressman for New York!"
"He wasn't in the stateroom though," Jack frowns, "I don't even think he was on the ship. I'm sure I would remember a big politician's name."
Niki shrugs, unhelpfully turning back to her unhelpful place where she is unhelpfully scrubbing the unhelpful safe to make sure the seasalt didn't unhelpfully crystallise on it. Tommy huffs to himself, turning to the last item.
The ring looks like any other ring. A gold band with a fair sized diamond embedded in it. Could have belonged to anyone in the first or second classes - maybe third if they'd really shilled out. Perhaps it was the ring that would be given to the Halo's new fiance, but something about that just didn't sit right with Tommy.
Surely there was a reason for all three items being in the safe when the diamond was not...
"Schlatt was the congressman for the 25th section of New York from 1909 to 1913 when he died of a heart attack," Jack interrupts Tommy's thinking. When he looks at the other man, he's reading off his phone, "He became an advocate for safer maritime laws after the Titanic's sinking, despite not being on the ship. Oh, what a nice guy!"
"Jack."
"Or wait no, I just found he has a whole section to do with his controversies, maybe he wasn't."
"Jack."
"Oh no, that is not great..."
"Jack, we have a news crew showing up here in about half an hour and you're reading facts about some guy that wasn't even on the Titanic instead of looking at the artifacts."
It's less than a day after the news crew visits that another helicopter touches down on their boat. Tommy, Jack, and a handful of researchers stand outside, awaiting its arrival. Precious cargo is on board.
Survivors. Which means 'answers' in Tommy's book.
The pilot gets out first, opening the door and holding a hand out. It's almost immediately ignored as the first passenger to climb out eyes the assistance and scowls, setting down his walking stick instead to disembark.
The man is in his 90s, but he does well to not look too ancient, Tommy supposes. He has the look of someone always displeased but polite enough to not say anything, and reminds Tommy a little of his grandmother. On both ring fingers he wears a ring, and he does not appear to be dressed suitably for a ship in the middle of the Atlantic, in only a button down shirt and corduroy trousers, although he is wearing a hat to cover his balding head.
His most defining feature by far is the scar that runs from chin - where it is wide and jagged - to eyebrow - where it is much smaller and healed over. The wound runs through his lips and left eye, which is a milky white, unseeing.
Quackity Jacobs.
The second man to step out the helicopter willingly takes the pilot's hand, using it to step onto the boat's deck with a surety about himself. He thanks the man, using the hand that had just been assistance to become an impromptu handshake. He, like his husband, wears his age well, though, unlike Quackity, he manages a smile from the moment the helicopter's door opens. It only brightens as he approaches Quackity, taking his hand with a warm grin and a kiss of the cheek as if they weren't just in a helicopter together. He wears two rings on his left ring finger and wears fashion far more suitable for his surroundings, a dark sweater with a puffy coat and thermals peeking out from beneath all that.
He has no visible scarring, and if Tommy were to choose, he'd say the man's most noticeable feature is his hair, long and grey and pulled away from his eyes by a croquet headband. Tommy can imagine it being a gift from a grandchild.
Sapnap Jacobs.
Moving the men inside and out of the cold is easy. It's getting answers that's the hard part.
"So..." Jack starts as Sapnap near immediately drifts away to look at the screens showing off the images the crew had taken of the Titanic on the sea floor. Niki is no help, pointing out different parts of the ship as Sapnap asks. Jack refocuses his attention to Quackity, "You know about the Lab diamond?"
Quackity is watching Sapnap, "Yes... but he'd know more than I would."
"Why?" Tommy questions, leaning closer, "If he stole it, it's okay, you know. You can tell us."
Quackity's eyes cut back to the two, expression perhaps even more contrite than when he had stepped off the helicopter.
"I was told the two of you found a piece of writing, is that correct?"
"Yes, Mr Jacobs," Jack is up immediately, subtly slapping Tommy in the back of his head, "I apologise for my colleague. He was raised saying what he liked. Right this way."
"It's alright, I've met plenty of people raised worse. And please, call me Quackity," The old man stands up slowly, walking over to the preservative where the poem sits.
He reads over it, a smile ghosting his face for the first time since stepping onto the ship. Sapnap, noticing that Quackity has moved, comes to join him too, smiling with the same far away expression the other wears. Tommy feels like he probably shouldn't be watching.
"There." Quackity says finally, pointing to a line, "That's where your diamond is."
Ah. The line of the poem about a diamond. Which was a line describing Sapnap.
Tommy made no effort to hide his sigh. Quackity's just flirting with his husband.
"He never read that part to us," Quackity muttered quietly, more to himself and Sapnap, but it is almost instantly so quiet in the room, Tommy's sure everyone heard it. He, rather unsubtly, tries to catch a glance of what Quackity is referring to.
Sapnap just grins, tilting his head so it rested lightly against Quackity's own, "He never needed to, did he?"
Both men were looking at the last line. Tommy didn't blame them, the line was a loaded one, that told of a love so unimaginably deep as the author watched the world burn with their beloveds.
The writer of the poem evidently loved these men just as much as they loved each other. And it would seem they loved him just as deeply in return.
"Who was 'he'?" Jack asks quietly, the first to break the silence that had settled as the researchers watch.
Sapnap laughs softly, "Who wasn't he?"
"Karl was an enigma," Quackity agrees, smiling brighter yet, "I'd never met anyone like him before. I've never met anyone like him since. He was a mad man, dragging us to closed off sections of the ship, to parties we had no place being. He threw that engagement ring into the Halo safe with a note saying 'Eat shit Schlatt'."
He gestured to the ring and the other note. (An engagement ring. A note to Schlatt.)
"He's half the reason the necklace isn't in there anymore," Sapnap agrees, hands entwining around Quackity's arm. There's a glint in his eye that feels like a dare.
And Tommy's never been one to say no to a dare.
"Tell us more."