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Chapter Text

Logan was not some lovestruck teenage girl. He wasn't. Sure, the Captain had dropped thousands of feet from the Arcadia floating high in the planet's atmosphere straight down into a fiery and collapsing canyon without any safety equipment or backup plan just to save him. But that did not mean that he had suddenly acquired a crush on his "brave and gallant hero" or something of the sort. Nope. Not at all.  

Okay, so maybe there was a spark of interest, but, honestly, it was so small Logan hardly even noticed it was there. Though that didn't explain why he was standing outside Harlock's quarters in the middle of the night. It wasn't as if he liked the captain, right?

Obviously, Logan had noticed that the man was attractive - tall and slim with soft, dark hair and deep, piercing eyes. Even the scar across his cheek couldn't mar his appeal - if anything it was a sign of his strength and conviction and made him all the more striking. All of the women on board, and even some of the men, clamored for his attention and, after eating in the mess hall for the last few weeks, Logan heard a few members who had previously only claimed an interest in women admitted to having something of a crush on their commander. So even if Logan were drawn to him, which he most certainly was not, the Captain had plenty of options for partners  and wasn't likely to pay any attention to the new guy. Saving him was probably what he did for all members of his crew; Logan wasn't special.  

He stood in front of the Captain's door, debating whether to knock; caught between his warring duties and desires.

On the one hand, he had a mission, one that he was under obligation to fulfill as a soldier in the Gaia Fleet. Not only that, he had told Ezra that he would be his legs, that he would fight in his brother's place and do what Ezra could no longer do himself. It was only fair - Logan's impulsiveness and stupidity had caused the tragedy that took Ezra's ability to walk so he would do what he could to make reparations. He had to repay his sins somehow and if his creditor decided that was to be through helping the Coalition take down an outlaw that had been wreaking havoc on colonies and ships for the last one hundred years, then that was what he would do. Logan didn't exactly like the idea of becoming an assassin, but he would do it if it would redeem him in Ezra's eyes; he would do anything to make up for his mistakes. 

On the other hand, something didn't feel right, something besides his apprehensions over having to kill someone.

Harlock's words had surprised him, had made him question everything he had been told. 

Find your own truth.

The more he thought it over the more he felt like he understood what Harlock had meant about freedom, about truth, about making his own choices. The plan to use the Genesis Clock seemed farfetched, insane even, but the Captain and his crew were so certain it would work, that it was the right thing to do. If that were the case then the Coalition was wrong, but even thinking that was in violation of everything Logan had ever known. He had made a promise, he had a mission to fulfill and yet... he didn't know why, but something told Logan that the Arcadia and its crew were on the right path. 

His mind was in turmoil, his thoughts swimming around and mixing together till Logan could hardly separate them or remember his reason for being on the ship in the first place. Or why he wanted to stay. It was an endless, chaotic battle between two choices: continue fighting for his redemption and for the Coalition and for his brother, or join Harlock and his crew and attempt to forge a better future?  

He couldn't make up his mind. Logan's head was pounding from the maelstrom that was his brain and, despite the late hour and the exhausting day he had endured, sleep was eluding him. After tossing restlessly for an hour or two he finally decided to just get up and go do something, hoping that the activity would calm him enough to let the tiredness of his body seep into his mind and quell the storm. He was, of course, not that lucky.

He wandered aimlessly, distracted from his surroundings as he thought, and when he finally he looked up he found himself in the officers' quarters corridor. He was confused, at first, until he remembered the intensity of the Captain's gaze when he'd landed on the falling shuttle, his quiet confidence despite having a gun pointed at the back of his skull, the strength in his slim fingers as they fought to get the ship in the air.  

It's just lust, an appreciation for an attractive man. Nothing more.

Or so he'd been trying to convince himself, but deep down Logan knew he was in serious trouble. This was not some silly obsession with his hero, like a maiden in distress falling for her rescuer regardless of who he was or what he looked like. No, Logan had been drawn to the Captain from the moment he laid eyes on him. There was an allure, an appealing charisma or aura to the man that had lured him closer with each passing day. Logan was desperate to have the Captain's eyes on him, to be noticed or acknowledged; maybe, if the stars aligned, the Captain would even like him. 

Logan had tried to ignore it, tried to pretend it was just the desire of a new crew member to prove his usefulness, but today had proven it was more than that, more than a wish for acknowledgment or lust for a desirable man. Much more than that.

Harlock was captivating. Something about him called to Logan like a siren's song and Logan yearned to answer it. He couldn't explain it, but there was a connection between them, he was sure of it. And he needed to find out if the Captain felt it too or if he was under some kind of delusion - thinking he was special when in reality he was just another crew member.

So as much as he hated his feet for betraying him, for bringing him straight to Harlock's door, Logan was also a little grateful. He was already here so he might as well take advantage of the opportunity and speak to the Captain alone, try to learn a little more about him and understand what was going on between them.

He took a deep breath and knocked. 

Chapter Text

Logan knocked on the door to Harlock's quarters and took a deep breath, holding the air in his lungs while anticipation locked his limbs in place. Silence stretched on and on through the hallway; an entire minute passed without a single sound emanating from within. He started to wonder if the Captain was even in his room. The mysterious man had a habit of wandering the ship at all hours of the day and night, forgoing sleep and holding hushed conversations with the ship's consciousness. It wouldn't be strange for his room to be empty, even at this hour. 

Logan was preparing to knock again, just in case the Captain hadn't heard the first, when the door slid open, revealing a disgruntled Harlock. 

Harlock was barefoot, his slim frame clad in gray sleep pants and a dark blue t-shirt. No black, no boots, no leather, no skulls - even his eyepatch was nowhere to be seen. His shaggy hair hung in his face, nearly obscuring his good eye as well as the bad one, though it did nothing to diminish his intense, piercing gaze. Logan could see it clearly through the fringe and that missing patch was probably what surprised him the most about the Captain's appearance.

His mouth went dry, sweat gathering in his palms. He had never expected that seeing the Captain looking so normal would be far more alluring than his flamboyant cape and brusk way of piloting the Arcadia, or the commanding tone he took on when directing the crew, or the fire in his eye when he spoke about freedom. Desire shot through him, pooling in his gut and filling Logan with the powerful urge to either drag the man down by his collar and kiss him, or to flee. He was leaning toward the latter, but a cough from the Captain brought Logan back to his senses. He had knocked on the door, almost an entire minute earlier, with the obvious intention of speaking with the Captain, and yet here he was, standing in the same position he had been since Harlock had opened the door. 

"Is there something I can help you with Logan?" Harlock asked. 

Logan was frozen, motionless, his fist still raised as if to knock and his mouth parted in shock. He kept forgetting that despite his immortality and supernatural strength because of the dark matter, ultimately Harlock was still human. And being human meant he needed to sleep, probably enjoyed comfortable clothing just as much as anyone else.

But the realization only made him even more aware of how much he wanted. He wanted so fiercely he could hardly breathe, could hardly think. 

He tried to speak, to answer the Captain's question but all that came out was an uncertain "Uhh..." 

Eloquent Logan, very intelligent. 

His mind was blank, he couldn't think of a single thing to say. It wasn't as if he had any idea as to what he wanted with the Captain, and now under pressure he was at a total loss. He wracked his brain, trying to think of something he could say, anything he could say, to explain why he was standing there (with his fist still raised awkwardly, mind you) staring.  

"Would you like to come in?" Harlock asked.  

Come in? In where? 

Harlock had stepped back a bit from the doorway and swung an arm out in a gesture of welcome and Logan's brain finally kickstarted, realizing that the Captain was inviting him into his bedroom. 

And what, exactly, was he supposed to do with that? He supposed it was only polite if he accepted the offer and found an excuse to stick around for at least a couple of minutes, you know since he had kind of woke Harlock up in the middle of the night on one of the rare occasions he seemed to have been asleep. He just didn't know what excuse he could come up with. Mostly he was here because his feet had brought him of their own volition, acting on the impulse of his subconscious mind that found the man... what? Fascinating? Enchanting? Logan wasn't sure how to describe the attraction he felt toward the Captain. It was more than physical desire, more than an objective appreciation for the man's comeliness, more than the hope of being accepted as a useful crew member, and - as weird as it was for him to think it - more than lust, more than a craving to take the man apart with pleasure and touch. This was like magnets, a persistent towline from himself to the other, dragging and straining, constantly and insistently, begging for him to let go and give in to its pull. It was heavy and maddening, an addiction that sank into his bones and his blood. 

And regardless of what Logan wanted it was entirely impossible to ignore, though he wasn't sure he wanted to ignore it. In fact, he was rather sure that his trip to the Captain's door was because he had reached his breaking point. The want he felt had grown stronger than his sense of propriety, of self-preservation. At this point it no longer mattered what his situation was, it didn't matter that he was a Gaia Coalition spy because he had already shown his hand to Harlock, though the Captain hadn't seemed surprised. His position on board had been risky from the start and now it was downright precarious, hanging in the balance, both of them waiting for the other to act. There was little Logan could do to make it any worse and he was tired of pretending that what his feelings for Harlock, whatever they were, weren't there. He was tired and frustrated and done with ignoring it all. 

Speaking of ignoring. 

He was still standing frozen in the hall while Harlock watched him, amusement etched across his face. At least Logan had dropped his hand at some point while he was lost in thought. Again. Logan shook his head back and forth a couple of times, trying to clear the cobwebs, and flicked his eyes back to the Captain's and nodded.

Harlock lowered his head in response, lips curving in a gentle smile and letting his outstretched hand slide just a little farther, gesturing for Logan to enter.

Logan stepped over the threshold, limbs feeling strange after having been stiff and motionless for so long, entering the room properly and folding his arms over his chest before turning around.

The door slid back into place and Harlock shifted to lean against the door frame, arms crossed and one foot planted on the wall behind him. He managed to look relaxed and powerful at the same time, intimidating even without his usual menacing attire. He had a slight smirk and his one visible eyebrow was raised in amusement. "So, what did you want?" he asked.

And that was when Logan realized he was in Captain Harlock's bedroom. Alone. In the middle of the night. With absolutely no excuse or anything to talk about.  

Shit. 

Chapter Text

Shit.  

There was something seriously wrong with Logan's brain. Something had to have happened to him since boarded the Arcadia. Maybe he was going crazy, just like the rest of Harlock’s maniac crew. Why else would he have walked into the Captain's room? In the middle of the night. For no reason. 

Now he was stuck, that piercing gaze focused intently on him, and no idea what to say.  

The Captain seemed unconcerned with Logan's silence. He leaned against the wall, patiently watching while Logan's gaze flitted around the room, mind raced frantically for some excuse he could give for being here. 

The room was simple and comfortable. The bed was in the far right-hand corner, plain with white sheets and a dark pillow-cover and blankets. The floors were the same dark, dull metal as the rest of the ship, though Harlock had no rugs on the floor like most of crews quarters did. There was a tapestry with a map of the known universe on the wall to the right of the door and another to the left with a strange pattern in earthy yellows, oranges, browns, and reds. A tall lamp stood in the far left corner between the wall and a chest of drawers made of dark-stained wood. Logan had expected the captain to be in much nicer accommodations than the crew, something far more comfortable to spend a century in, but it wasn’t any larger than anyone else’s quarters, maybe ten foot square. 

There was an open door by the foot of the bed leading into a small, dark room. There was a desk inside against the far wall underneath a large window, illuminated by the stars. A ring of light wrapped around a glass jar - old and cracked and filled with... dirt? 

Logan had taken as much time as he possibly could have perusing, but it hadn’t taken longer than a minute or two, and now he stood shifting on his feet and looking at anything but Harlock. The yellow light made his hair look more brown than black and shone directly in his eye, glinting brightly from beneath the cover of his shaggy fringe. His skin looked warm and rich and his clothes soft. The sleep pants were slim, taut across his muscular thighs and his sleeves were short, revealing lean, defined biceps. His scar was softer, paler, and without the thick leather and concealing cape, Harlock seemed broader and stronger - not so slim and angular. He was far too put together and attractive for being in his pajamas. 

"Umm..." He chanced a glance over at the Captain and found him smirking, waiting patiently.  Logan stuttered. "I, uh..." 

Harlock quirked a brow. "You...?"  

"I don't really—" Logan paused and huffed, his brain scrambled. He didn’t have anything else to say. His mind was blank, empty of anything but the languid, graceful, confident figure just out of reach. Three, maybe four, steps and he could brush the hair out of Harlock’s face, see that captivating gaze from up close and count the stars in his eye. But he couldn't move, could hardly breathe through the tension in his body.

Harlock pushed himself off the wall, unwinding his arms, and walked forward, cocking his head in question. "You don't know?” he asked. “You come to my room in the middle of the night, rousing me from sleep, and now you have nothing to say?"  

"No, I—" He was too close, too intense. Logan wanted nothing more than to close the gap between the two of them and touch. He knew there was a reason he shouldn't but he was having a hard time remembering why.

The Captain took another step closer. "Logan. Why did you come here?" 

"I— I don't know..." 

Another step.

Logan could touch him now, if he reached out. The room felt hot, much hotter than it had when he first entered. The Captain's gaze was searing and uncomfortable and part of him wanted to flee. He had gotten himself in too deep. He needed to leave. He wanted to leave. But his feet were rooted to the floor, fingers twitching with the need to grab hold and touch. 

"Logan,” Harlock said. “Why?" 

Logan’s feet finally moved, taking a step backward and tripping over the Captain's boots. Logan stumbled and straightened, cheeks heating as he looked up and froze. They stared at each other for a long moment until the Captain sighed and turned away. 

"Go back to bed, Logan." 

"...What?" 

"Go back to bed,” Harlock repated. “Come back when you've figured it out." 

Logan's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. "Figure what out?" 

Harlock turned back around and just looked at him for a moment before sighing, voice weary. "Go back to bed, Logan."  

"...Okay." Logan straightened his shoulders left, turning around in the hallway to see Harlock standing next to his bed, staring down at the blankets with his shoulders slumped. The door slid shut and Logan couldn't see him anymore. 

Chapter Text

Logan's mind was in turmoil. The last few days aboard the Arcadia had been chaotic, mind-opening, confusing...

Heartbreaking.

Finding out that everything he had ever been told - about the Earth, about the Coalition, about the Homecoming War, about Harlock - were all lies had torn him apart inside. Nothing was how he had always thought, nothing made any sense anymore.

When the ship got close enough to the Earth for the illusion to fall away, he was so shocked he couldn't think, couldn't breathe. It took entire minutes for him to react and start to wonder what exactly was going on. Seeing their planet, humanity's home, in such a horrifying, lifeless state made his stomach churn, his heart drop down into his gut, his throat clench up with fear and sorrow. He could hardly get out the words to tell Ezra he was lying.

But he knew it wasn't a lie, he could see the evidence right there in front of his face.

How could they? How could the Coalition claim to have the only truth, to be the only ones who could bring peace and order to the scores of humanity scattered around the universe? Why give people hope through a lie? For power? To maintain their authority?  

"You believe whatever you're told," Ezra had said. Maybe he was right. Maybe Logan really was that gullible. He had meant what he said when confronting Ezra before the battle. You and the Coalition are wrong about him. I feel it in my gut, Ezra! He really had believed that it would be better to reset the Genesis Clock, to start over and try to fix humanity's mistakes from the Homecoming War.

But now everything was all mixed up. Harlock had worked for the Coalition, had even been part of the efforts to keep anyone from returning to Earth, initially. He had tried to make the Coalition's decision permanent by creating a literal impassible barrier, a real sanctified zone that no one could cross. At least then their law would have been real and no one would have been able to elevate themselves as the Elites had, the privilege to return to Earth while everyone else was stuck out in space, never to return home.

In a way, Logan agreed, agreed that Harlock’s actions had been right and justified, but he had gone about it the wrong way. He’d tried to control something far beyond his abilities, beyond any human’s right to control, and it had blown up in his face. His impulsiveness, his anger, his pride, had ruined him, ruined the Earth and with it everyone's hope. 

And Logan? He was furious. He could understand Harlock's anger witth the Gaia Elites. He could understand the hurt of finding out that those who you trusted and believed in were the worst kinds of hypocrites. It was the same feeling as when he’d watched the illusion around the Earth fall away, when he’d found out the Coalition had been lying to everyone for the last one hundred years. But why hadn’t he trusted his crew with his plans? Why hadn’t he told them the whole story so that they would know what they were getting into? It wasn’t right. It was irresponsible and it was no wonder that everyone was beginning to doubt him. 

That Logan doubted him. 

But even as he led Ezra and the Gaia soldiers to the bridge, even as he stared Harlock down with a gun pointed at his head, and even as he changed uniforms, effectively showing his loyalty - whose truth he was going to follow - Logan’s mind still rolled. Despite the anger simmering in his chest, Logan was already beginning to forgive him.

Because no one knew more than Logan how hard it was to pick up the pieces when your own impulsiveness caused tragedy. No one knew more than he what it was like to try and fix something, believing you were strong enough to do it, only to watch as it all fell apart around you in a broken heap.  

Maybe that was why he felt that strange connection to Harlock. Both of them had pasts filled with reckless decisions and horrible consequences and now they were both fighting to redeem themselves, clawing desperately for solutions to fix their mistakes, and nothing was going as planned.

Logan thought back over everything he had done since boarding the Arcadia, wondering if he could have done anything differently. If there was something, anything he could have done that would have brought him redemption. 

Maybe he should have stuck with Harlock, helped him plant the last detonator and use the Genesis Clock to start over. He certainly felt like he needed one for his own life.

And maybe that was really what Harlock really wanted - not to start the universe try again without humanity‘s ego, but for the Captain himself to try his own life over again, to not make the same mistakes, to try and do better the second time around.

Maybe Harlock just wanted a past he could be at peace with.

But Logan wasn’t really sure about any of this and his eyes couldn’t focus on much of anything as his brain jumped from thought to thought in a chaotic race to find some useable conclusion. 

And then Ezra told him about Nami.

He knew Ezra was lying about how she had died. He knew how Ezra had felt about her, how much he had been driven nearly insane because she had never loved him back.  

Logan bent over onto the floor and sobbed, but it didn’t last long. He felt drained. His mind was blank and his chest felt hollow, like his heart had just disappeared, and he never could remember much of what had happened after that. Just little flashes here and there.

It was all too much to deal with and all he just wanted to get away.

How he ended up on the Earth, he really didn't know, stumbling around in the hot wind and dust blowing against him. It was miserable, but he forced himself to keep walking, to keep looking. He needed answers. He need a truth he could believe in, that he could follow wholeheartedly.

He needed someone to tell him what to do. 

He was so distracted, so blank and unseeing, that he didn't notice the ground dropping away in front him, and he fell.

Hard.

It took a moment to get his bearings, a groan slipping past his lips as he finally looked up, and then everything in his head finally went quiet. 

Chapter Text

"I thought I had destroyed everything. There is redemption; this is what it feels like. I'm free!"

Logan watched Harlock's eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed with the knowledge that his mistakes had not ended in total tragedy. 

Hope still exists to grow. We can still fix this. 

The last few hours had been busy and scary and messy, but throughout it all Logan's mind had been completely calm. He finally knew the truth, the truth about everything, and he had made his decision.

He was a little upset with himself that it had taken Ezra's betrayal to give him that final push, that he hadn't been able to trust his gut or find the strength on his own. It had been pure chance that Logan ended up on the Earth and had seen how it was healing. If not for that, he would still be back on Ezra's ship, following the Coalition's orders to destroy the Arcadia and its crew, effectively ending the chances of anyone ever going back home. 

The thought that he had been so close to ruining everything with his gullibility made his stomach churn. First, by blindly followed Ezra's orders, then by blindly believing Harlock, and then Ezra again right after having been told he was gullible. 

Will I never learn? 

Well, he would now. This time he was acting under his own choice, entirely under his own beliefs, and for the first time since the accident that had taken Nami's body and Ezra's legs, Logan felt at peace. And as he told Harlock about the Earth, showed him that not everything was lost, that they didn’t have to start over for there to be redemption, the realization of what Harlock had meant when he had visited the Captain's room hit him like a brick. 

Come back when you've figured it out. 

Harlock's steadiness the first time Logan had pulled a gun on him back in the collapsing canyon finally made sense - he had probably known from the beginning that Logan was no there for the reasons he had said, that he would betray them, and he knew why Logan had gone to his room in the middle of the night. Because Logan wanted, wanted desperately, but Harlock would never take someone to his bed knowing they were planning to betray him and his crew. He would never take someone to his bed who didn’t share his ideals and his goals. 

He would never take someone to his bed who didn’t even realize that’s what they wanted. 

Harlock had known everything from the start, and yet... 

He told me to come back. He wanted me to come back. Does he still?   

But now was not the time to go seeking the answer to that question. They had work to do. 

~~~ 

The rest of the day was a wreck. Julian succeeded in hacking the news feeds and showing everyone the Coalition's lies and Arcadia kept the Jovian Accelerator from destroying the Earth. And, somehow, Logan managed to get the ship away from the Gaia armada, bringing everyone to safety lightyears away from danger. They were free now to do as they wished while they waited for the day they could return home. The crew was celebrating their victory, making plans for the future over drinks and good food, and they had all welcomed Logan back into the fold with bright grins and playful punches.

But despite their forgiveness, Logan found himself sitting alone near the ships dark matter core, far away from the festivities and head bowed, unable get the day's events out of his head. 

He was all alone, now. Ezra was dead, Nami was dead. The last of his family was gone and he was all alone. And on top of that, what he had thought was simple indifference had turned out to be so much worse. 

Ezra had tried to kill him.

And Harlock had killed Ezra.  

Logan hadn’t had an opportunity to react then, the first shot of the Jovian Accelerator had come right at that moment and the day hadn’t slowed down since. Right after Ezra had died, Logan had sat in silence for a minute, mourning, but he had known there was more to do. They weren’t safe yet. So he had picked himself up off the floor and walked to the ship's helm.  

He hadn’t been surprised that Harlock had held a gun to his head, that Harlock hadn’t entirely trusted him yet. Logan would have done the same thing, so he wasn’t sure why he’d pulled his own gun. Maybe he just needed the comfort of knowing that he could shoot the Captain if he wanted to. Maybe he needed to show that he was angry that Harlock had killed his brother, as necessary as it had been. Maybe he just wanted to be Harlock's equal for once, rather than at his mercy or overpowering him completely with an army at his back. 

But, truthfully, it was probably that Logan had finally made his decision to follow the Captain, had proven that was the case, but had still been doubted.

It hurt.

Logan had come back - just like Harlock wanted - had helped him find redemption, not even once showing a desire to harm him or the crew, and yet Harlock had questioned his loyalty, his honesty. What could Logan have gained from lying anymore, what purpose would it serve? Harlock should have known all of that, so why had he still threatened to kill him? 

I found something else to believe in.  

It was the only thing Logan had ben able to think of to say, the only thing that would show his conviction. He had made his decision; he trusted Harlock, he trusted the crew of the Arcadia, he believed in their goal to bring humanity back home and he believed that they were doing the right thing. Logan believed in them enough to follow them, he wasn’t just running away because he no longer had a family to return to. He trusted what his gut was telling him - that Harlock was the right person to follow, to stand beside. He believed in the Captain.

And he still wanted. He wanted desperately. 

Logan had tried to convey all of that in his expression as the two had stood face-to-face, guns cocked, imploring the Captain to believe in him in return. Hoping Harlock would understand and choose to trust him.

They had stood there for a long moment, just watching each other, before Harlock had huffed slightly, a corner of his lips twitching, and finally spoken. 

About time. 

And now Logan sat by himself in the bowels of the ship, mourning the betrayal and hatred and loss of his brother. Mourning Nami's death. Missing home, wherever that was. And yet, more powerful than all of that, he felt something else. Relief. Peace. Happiness. He had found his redemption, had found a way to fix his mistakes, at least the new ones.

He could never make up for what he had done to Ezra and Nami, but he had made up for his betrayal of the Arcadia, for how his foolishness had almost ruined everything. And he had found a new home. The ship's crew had welcomed him back, although there were a few who did so begrudgingly.

But he had Harlock's trust, and that was enough for most of them. So he was here on the ship and it had become his home, the crew his family and friends, Harlock his real Captain. He had finally decided what he wanted and he had all of it. 

Well, most of it. There is still one thing left to take care of.  

Logan sat quietly, staring blankly at the floor and searching for the courage he needed to take the next step. He wanted more out of this new life, but that required a boldness he wasn’t sure he possessed. He didn’t notice Harlock stepping into the room and leaning against a pillar of machinery, arms crossed and watching him with a small, gentle smile. But he did hear when the Captain spoke a few minutes later. 

"Logan." 

Logan looked up. 

Chapter Text

"Logan." 

Logan looked up.

The Captain was leaning against some machinery, arms crossed and lurking in a shadow, but his eye was gleaming. He had removed his cloak, his utility belt, his sword, and his leather jacket, dressed down in his boots, pants and a soft gray shirt. His arms were pale and his hair was messy, uncombed after the chaotic day. He even looked a little tired, his shoulders unaccustomedly hunched over and his body looking like it was leaning against the wall for support rather than out of laziness or a display of nonchalant arrogance.

Logan's mouth went a little dry, unprepared for the Captain's sudden appearance, especially since he hadn’t yet decided what he would say or do when next they met. He sat silently for a moment, watching the Captain and being watched in turn. "You look tired,” he said, eventually. 

Harlock tilted his head forward in agreement, but said nothing.

Logan shifted a little in his seat, not sure how to carry on the conversation, scrambling for something to say. "...You did well today, fighting and leading the Crew. I mean, you probably already know that, but sometimes it’s nice to hear a compliment. Although, I guess you might not want it from me since I don't really know that much about being a Captain, but I think you do well. At least, you got me to figure myself out and— " 

"Logan,” Harlock said, interrupting Logan's rambling. 

"Yeah?"

"Have you figured it out?" he asked, an odd note to his voice. He sounded... hopeful.

Up until that moment, Logan hadn’t really thought about how Harlock was dealing with the tension between the two of them. He’d been so caught up in his own thoughts that that he hadn’t stopped to think about what Harlock might be thinking. Logan had kind of assumed that he would be summarily rejected once he was able to clearly state his feelings, but now that he saw Harlock's curiosity, his almost - nervousness? - he wondered if maybe he wasn't the only one getting all twisted up inside. He stood up, looking the Captain squarely in the eye. "Yes." He took a deep breath. "I want you. I want you so much it hurts."

He paused and Harlock looked at him steadily for a moment before pushing himself off the pillar, unwinding his arms. 

"I think about you constantly,” Logan continued, “always wondering where you are, what you're doing, what you're thinking; what you think about; what you think of me. It's driving me crazy."  

Harlock was walking toward him now, slowly, eyes blazing with something that looked like desperation.  

"I saw the recordings from the cameras of you fighting today,” Logan said, voice breathless and awed, barreling on to try and get everything out. “You were beautiful. You fought with such grace and power; it was amazing."

He was close now, very close, and he reached toward Logan with eyes that turned from desperation to burning hunger.   

"And you killed my brother and that hurts and you didn't trust me and that hurts even worse, but you're so strong and determined and ambitious and mysterious and I can't stop looking at you and I want you and -"  

Harlock kissed him. His hands slid along Logan’s jaw and into his hair, tugging him forward and crashing their mouths together with a whine. He thrust his tongue into Logan’s mouth, wet and hot and hungry. Logan's arms wrapped around Harlock's back, grasping onto his shirt and twisting into the fabric as he pulled them together. They melded together from knee to shoulder. Harlock's hand pressed against Logan's lower back, pushing their hips together, and Logan gasped, heat and longing coursing through his veins.

They clung to each other, kissing passionately. It was rough and powerful and Logan poured all his frustration from the past few weeks, all his fear, his confusion, the aching of his heart, and the burning thirst of want he felt for Harlock, into the kiss. His fingers grabbed at Harlock's back and shoulders, his arms, and tugged at his hair, desperate to show Harlock how fiercely he wanted him, how firmly he had made up his mind.

Harlock's hand stayed planted on Logan's hip, fingertips leaving bruises in his skin, and the other tilted Logan's head where he wanted it, thumb digging into his cheek. But despite the lack of frantic movement, Logan could sense the emotions roiling in him. He explored Logan's mouth thoroughly, held Logan tightly, securely, like he was worried Logan would change his mind and leave. Logan felt his fear, how he was trying to show Logan in return just how fervently he wanted, how desperate he was to be trusted and wanted in return.

So Logan kissed him back all the harder, eager to show him he understood, that he felt that way too. 

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually the kiss began to slow, lips pressing more gently and their grip on one another relaxing. Harlock pulled back and rested their foreheads together, breathing each other's air. They stood like that, enjoying the other's presence for a while.

But it couldn’t stay silent forever and Harlock was the one to break it. "I was afraid you might not come. That you might not want me." 

"Why?" Logan asked, wanting to understand Harlock's uncertainty, his doubt and anxiety.  

"Because you might not trust me," Harlock said. 

Oh.

Harlock had known from the start that Logan had boarded the ship with dishonest intentions, which meant that anything Harlock had said or done in relation to Logan since then had been him trying to protect the crew; he might simply have been trying to confuse and distract Logan, not actually meaning any of it. And even if that had not been the case, the Captain had still kept many secrets, secrets that even his crew didn’t know, let alone Logan, so there was no telling whether or not he was telling the truth now.  

And yet, Logan was not much better. He had come aboard as a spy, intending to kill the Captain and ruin their plans. He may have have changed sides, but not until after having betrayed them all and gotten them sentenced to execution. How could Harlock know if it was simply another part of an elaborate ruse to gain his trust and strike him down at a later date?  

Neither of them had any reason to trust the other and yet here they both stood, close enough to kill. 

"I don't trust you to tell me the truth all the time,” Logan said, slowly, thoughtuflly. “I don't trust you to not keep secrets from me. I don't trust you to not make reckless and crazy plans." 

Harlock's breath hitched, his fingers digging into Logan's hips and his eyes shut tight.  

"...but,” Logan paused. “I do trust that you care about this crew, this ship, and that you will protect them with your life. I trust that you have the best interests of humanity at heart and good intentions. And I think I believe you when you look at me like you want me as much as I want you." 

Harlock's eyes opened and he moved back a little, looking fown at Logan with cautious hope.  "I want you," he said, hardly above a whisper. "I want you." He leaned forward and buried his face in Logan's neck, breathing out the promise again with his arms wrapping around Logan's back. "I want you." 

Logan held on, pushing his face into Harlock's neck in turn, breathing in his scent and finally relaxing, happy just to be near him and know his feelings were returned. 

Chapter Text

They stood in the engine room for awhile, just breathing in each other's space, but the exhaustion from the busy day got to them quickly and neither of them wanted to continue standing upright. They needed rest but neither of them wanted to leave each other, so Harlock grabbed Logan's hand and brought him to the Captain's quarters. Logan, having hoped for the same thing but too nervous to ask, went along silently. 

It was nerve wracking, wondering what would happen once they arrived in the room. Logan spent the walk over fidgeting and anxious, not knowing if they were going to take things any farther than the heated kiss they had shared. But Harlock just pulled him into his room and shut the door, taking off his shoes before sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked up at Logan after a minute and said, "I have some extra sleep pants, if you would like to borrow them."

Logan nodded and Harlock retrieved them from his chest, grabbing a second pair for himself. Logan turned away from him self-consciously and changed into the soft, loose pants before Harlock pulled back the covers on the bed and climbed in, pulling Logan in with him. They curled into one another, entwining their limbs and clinging to each other. Harlock was on his back with Logan's head resting against his chest and their legs tangled together. Harlock curled his head down and buried his nose in Logan's hair. They laid there silently, lights out and warm and content under the covers. 

It was Logan who broke the silence, many long minutes later. "You know, my brother died today,” he said, hushed in the quiet room and heavy with emotion. “We broke and revealed the biggest secret in the universe and I have permanently left the only life and home I've ever really known. And yet... And yet I am more relaxed, more content than I have been in a long time." 

Harlock hummed, thoughtfully. "Why is that?"  

"Because... Because I've found something worth believing in, worth standing up and fighting for,” Logan said. “I thought I was paying penance for my mistakes, that I didn't deserve freedom, so it was only right that I follow orders, even ones I wasn't sure I agreed with. But I think the only way for me to make up for my sins is by being free so I can use that freedom to help others find freedom.” He pauses, biting his lip and frowning. “I wouldn't admit it to myself but I was never really happy with the Coalition. Something always seemed a little... off. I thought that obeying them would redeem me, would make me better, but I was just another mindless soldier and I wasn't doing anything worthwhile. Exposing the truth, though, showing the world the lies of the Coalition and allowing people to think for themselves was something worth doing, something good to make up for the wrong I've done. I think you said it right earlier, that this is what redemption must feel like."

It was a lot to say and to process and Logan wasn't really sure he had gotten all of it right. He wasn't sure he had said it well. The problem was, he wasn't quite sure all his thoughts were straight even in his own head, let alone well enough to articulate them.  

Harlock lay quietly for awhile, thinking, and Logan waited, not in any kind of rush. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet and uncertain, like he wasn't sure he should be saying anything at all. "What are your sins?" he asked. 

Ordinarily, such a question would have felt invasive and rude but Logan knew why Harlock asked. Logan already knew the Captain's sins and there couldn't be anything worse than destroying an entire planet; Logan's sins wouldn't seem like much by comparison. It was only fair that Harlock should know Logan's mistakes since he knew Harlock's. If they were going to trust each other then they needed to know each other. Their sins were part of who they were.  

So Logan talked. He told Harlock about his family, how his parents were botanists and how they all met Nami. He told him about his parents' deaths, how sad and lonely he had been for awhile, how Ezra had changed and become so cold and distant, only made worse when he started to realize that Nami didn't want him in return. He told him about the accident in the greenhouse, about his impulsiveness and foolishness, how he had ruined two lives and sent his own spiraling down a dark path. How Ezra had gone from cold and distant to cruel and imperious and about the mission he gave Logan, the job that might just offer him a chance to redeem himself. How Logan had taken to it with fervor and hope, jumping at the chance to make things right, to fix the mess he’d made. And maybe, just maybe, Ezra would love him again, even just a little. 

He talked and rambled and vented, fighting tears and trying to explain just how much of a mess he had been when he’d stepped aboard the Arcadia, trying to make Harlock understand him a little better.

Harlock listened in silence, unmoving and patient. When Logan finally ran out of words to say, Harlock waited a moment to be sure he was finished before pulling Logan tihgtly into his chest and murmuring gently, "And now you are free," and Logan squeezed him back, relaxing into his arms. 

For the first time in a long time they were content, happy. Their troubles, their wars had ended for a time. They were among family and friends who cared about them and protected them. They had chosen this life, had chosen their path not always knowing what they were getting into, but they had chosen freely. Things had not always gone the way they had predicted or hoped for, there had been horrible and awful moments they never wanted to go through again, but the experiences had made them stronger, wiser, and those choices had brought them here. To each other. To the Arcadia. To truth.

To the opportunity to do with their lives what they wanted, whatever they wanted. They could go and do and say whatever they wished and no one could stop them, no one had the right to tell them otherwise. No one controlled them and nothing bound them. The weight of their sins and lies and mistakes had been lifted and left them with endless possibilities and the freedom to choose any option they liked. 

They were free. 

Chapter Text

EPILOGUE 

Logan woke slowly, awareness seeping in. First, that he was warm and comfortable. Then, that he wasn't alone. He shifted a little, remembering the night before and wanting to snuggle deeper into the arms wrapped around him, basking in their safety and warmth. Harlock's hands wound tighter around him, pulling Logan closer into his chest. The movement made him aware of a third thing: pain.  

He’d kind of forgotten about all of his injuries in the rush of the day before, too happy last night to stop and think about it. But now he was reminded in a rush of clarity. He turned into Harlock's body with a low groan, sore muscles tensing. His nose and cheek throbbed, as did the grazes on his arms from being shot. His chest ached and any movement sent sharp pangs up his side - definitely bruising from Ezra's chair slamming him into a wall and maybe even a cracked rib or two.

His eye, or lack there of, was the worst though, a violent and powerful pain something like a throb and a sting. He’d taken the eye patch off before sleeping the night before and now he brought his hand up to his face and covered the empty hole gently, flinching a little when it sent sparks of discomfort dancing through his head. 

Harlock pulled away and rested his palm across Logan’s cheekbone and temple, covering his hand. His voice was teasing but there was sadness in his eyes. "We match." 

 Logan huffed a laugh. "Yeah. Did yours hurt this bad?" 

 "Probably,” Harlock shrugged. “It’s hard to remember after so long." 

 Logan blinked. "Oh. Right. God, I keep forgetting you're over a hundred years old. Do you think... Will you die? Can you die?" 

"I'm not sure,” Harlock said, brows furrowed. “But something feels different now, since Mimay merged with the ship. I don't know, it's just- Before, we were all bound together, to each other, so it was like two parts of the same body coming together. Like... if a soul left its body and then went back into it. But the Arcadia took her in, the black matter joined with her, and that changed the nature of our bond, even more so when Mimay came back again. And the Arcadia let you control her, let you act as the captain. I'm not sure, but I don't think I'm bound to her or to Mimay anymore. Maybe... maybe I'll be back to normal now, age and die just like any other human being. I don't know, just a theory."  

Logan was silent for a moment, thinking. "Well... I hope that's true. I know it sounds bad, but I want you to be able to die, someday. Living forever sounds so lonely." 

"It doesn't sound bad,” Harlock said, “it sounds nice. I've already lived more than a lifetime, nearly two long lifetimes and it looks like I have at least one more left. That's plenty for me. I don't think I would want any more, especially if you weren't around to live them with me. I- I've only had you around for a short time but I'm already starting to wonder how I ever made it this long without you. I need you Logan, need you here with me." 

Logan's felt a lump forming in his throat, sadness over the terrible loneliness Harlock must have lived through, the pain of having no one consistent around besides a ship and an alien for an entire century. How awful must it have been to continue watching his human crew mates die, one after the other, year after year, knowing his day wasn't coming, that there was no escaping, no end to his own grief and pain. His plan, his mission and his desperate need for redemption had obviously kept him going, kept him sane, but the sadness in Harlock's eyes was profound. There was steel in him, a strength that couldn't be ignored, but behind that bravery and ambition was a shadow Logan had only seen in the eyes of the old and weary. It was strange and disconcerting to see eyes like that on a face that seemed so young, only a few years older than Logan himself. 

Logan never wanted to see that sadness ever again. He wasn't even sure if he had ever seen Harlock smile, not one that wasn't laced with bitterness or irony.  "Well,” he said. “I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here, with you, as long as you want me." 

Harlock smiled, closing his eyes and leaning forward to press their foreheads together. "Thank you, Logan." 

They lay like that, neither wanting to leave the warmth of the bed or each other's company, until Logan's stomach complaining about the lack of food it had gotten recently reminded them how late it was getting, that they had a ship to run. Logan’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and buried his nose in Harlock's collarbone.

Harlock chuckled, stroking his hand down Logan's spine. "Perhaps we should get breakfast? I have not eaten in at least a day and I am rather certain you haven't either. You're going to need nourishment if you are to heal properly. And I would like you to be as healthy as possible. I have plans for you." He sat up and slid to the end of the bed, walking over to his chest to pull out clean clothes.

Logan pushed himself up slowly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and bracing his hands on his knees. "Oh, plans? What kind of plans?" he asked. 

Harlock grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked at Logan intently. "We were both exhausted last night, wrung out in more ways than one, and you are injured and in pain, even if you seemed to have forgotten it until you had a chance to slow down. But I did not bring you to my room for entirely innocent reasons, Logan. I plan to keep you here and I do not intend to spend each night only sleeping."

Logan's mouth went dry and his face went hot, heart thumping in his chest. He barely managed to squeak out a tiny "Oh?" before his throat closed again. 

Harlock walked back to the bed, standing in front of Logan with a stack of clothes in his arm. He reached down with his free hand and grabbed Logan's chin in his fingers, tilting his face up. He leaned down, an inch from Logan’s nose and heat radiating off of him. "Yes, Logan. I have spent a lot of time thinking about this and as soon as you are healed I plan to make my imagination into reality. If you’re not okay with this make it clear to me now. When I told you I needed you, when I said I wanted you, I meant more than just your presence and your companionship. I want you." 

Logan swallowed hard. He had known that Harlock bringing him back to his room was likely more than just an innocent desire for company or a means for emotional comfort. But hearing the words out loud was sending liquid heat coursing through his veins. He stumbled over his words, hardly able to think straight enough to form a sentence. "I- I want that too, Harlock. I've always wanted you. I want everything." 

Harlock's eyes roved over Logan's face, searching, and when he seemed satisfied with what he found, his eyes turned from intensely curious to just plain intense before they slid closed and he tipped his face down the last few inches to press his lips to Logan's. They kissed gently, oh so gently, the barest whisper of touch once, twice, a third time. Then Harlock turned his face slightly and pressed his cheek against Logan's, whispering a soft and fervant promise. "I'm not letting you go, Logan. Never." 

Logan reached up and twined his arms around Harlock's shoulders, pulling him into his chest and holding tightly. 

~~~

Life wasn't perfect. Sometimes the two were so alike that it spurred the most horrible of fights. Running a ship and a crew was stressful and chaotic and tiring and some days they could barely even get a glimpse of each other in all the busyness. They were in danger sometimes - some diehard members of the Coaltion never gave up on trying to find them and inevitably one of them would get hurt, leaving the other upset and emotional and ridiculously overprotective in the weeks following to the point of exasperating the other. They got irritated over little things and fought over them more than they needed to and from time-to-time one of them was just in a bad mood for no reason at all and couldn't keep their mouth shut. And sometimes they just needed a break from each other and Logan would go back to his old quarters. 

They always came back to each other, though. They could only take so many nights alone in an empty bed before one of them would walk through the dark corridors and climb into the other's arms, whispering apologies. Nothing was ever more important than the other person, nothing was ever so serious that they couldn't forgive one another eventually. 

Logan learned how to be Captain and Harlock started leaving more of those duties to him, especially as they got older. Eventually they let someone else take over as captain entirely, staying on the ship as advisors and friends to the crew. But the Arcadia was where their hearts lived, where they both had found happiness, found each other, and they couldn't leave that. The Arcadia was home and it was freedom and they would never sacrifice their freedom. Only one thing was more important to them than that - each other. They had fought and bled for each other, to have each other despite all of the obstacles that had stood in their way, and had defeated them all, even the ones within themselves, and that was worth protecting, worth keeping no matter what happened or how flawed and messy and hard it was sometimes. They had chosen what they wanted and they were never going to let go of that. 

~~~

"Maybe we wanted to believe it - in a perfect home - one that existed just out of reach... We'll never see tomorrow if we're blinded by lies today. We searched throughout the universe for answers. It's time we searched within ourselves."