Chapter Text
Jean Moreau drifted in and out of consciousness, aware of the feeling of waters from a vast ocean encompassing him; it lulled him back into sleep like a lullaby.
It felt closer than usual, but he was barely cognizant to realize why. The ocean had been his only friend these past months, she was always there. It made him feel less alone. His loneliness was something Jean tried not to think about, but it refused to leave him. Ever since Kevin’s escape from * The Raven ,* it lingered like the ache of bruised ribs. Briefly, Jean remembered Kevin’s voice. It felt like he was with him, but Jean knew that wasn’t possible. He didn’t even dare hope for it– he stopped hoping long ago, especially in matters regarding Kevin Day.
“Jean… you have to fight. I can’t lose you.” Kevin choked on his words, tears threatening to spill over. “Please don’t hate me for sending you away. It’s your only chance at survival.”
There was another voice– the voice of a woman he didn’t recognize. “Kevin, it’s time to go.”
“How will we make sure he gets to them, Renee?” Kevin asked, voice cracking uncharacteristically. Kevin always had himself together, he never wavered unless it was hidden in the darkness for only Jean to see. This had to be a dream.
“We will stay on a separate dingy until we see The Trojan. Then we will retreat to the ship and let them take him,” the woman– Renee said soothingly.
“I don’t want to leave him again,” Kevin said quietly as Jean felt his fingers gently caress his face– mapping it out one last time.
Jean lurched up, desperate to see Kevin. The pain overtook him instantly, coming from too many places on his battered, broken body. He was able to register that he was on a little boat, drifting alone through open waters before he lost consciousness again. His last thought was a wish, a plea, that a swift death would be bestowed upon him as he slipped into unconsciousness once more.
Captain Jeremy Knox stood on the stern of his ship,
The Trojan
. He relished the feeling of the salty sea breeze in his hair and on his face. It ruffled his long deep red captain’s jacket and billowed his sleeves. He tilted his face to the hot afternoon sun, basking in her golden rays on his freckled skin for just a moment before returning to the task at hand. Raising his spyglass to his eye, Jeremy scanned the horizon for ships. There were rumors of enemy pirate ships being close by, and he couldn’t let his guard down for a moment. The lives of so many depended on his every move. He took the title of Captain like a clergyman would take his oath to God. His crew was his family in every way that mattered, and he would not lose sight of that for a second, never again.
Jeremy thought perhaps he had looked at the sun for too long. There was a moving speck far out on the horizon. It was tiny, and certainly not a ship. This far out to sea, there was no way it could be a fisherman or anything of the sort. Perhaps it was a piece of a ship, or maybe it truly was nothing. Seeing things was an occurrence that happened more often than he liked to admit, but that’s what his crew was for.
“Alvarez,” Jeremy called. He was never commanding with his crew, he didn’t need to be. They listened because they wanted to and respected their Captain. “Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or is there something out there on the starboard side?” He handed over his spyglass to the woman. He trusted his first mate with his life.
“Aye, Captain. It looks like there is something out there. I would bet it’s just a piece of wreckage though. Can’t be much,” Alvarez responded.
“Best to be safe. I’ll keep an eye on it. Let Morgan know up in the Crow’s Nest.” Jeremy trusted his Sailing Master, Xavier Morgan, to assess any threat; he hadn’t led them astray yet.
Jeremy watched the mysterious object like a hawk. As they approached, it was clear it was a small dingy. Morgan confirmed there was nothing else on the horizon as well. As they got even closer, it was clear there was a person on it, and they were unresponsive. "Man Overboard!" Jeremy yelled, calling the crew into action. In an instant, the ship came to life. Crew members were calling out as they expertly hoisted lines, working together seamlessly.
"Captain!" Alvarez called out. "Seems to be a man, lots of injuries and unresponsive." Her concern was evident on her face.
Jeremy was at the helm. As much as he had faith in his crew, The Trojan was his. It was his job to steer her. But, it meant he was unable to see any details of this man, not that it mattered, Trojans always helped anyone in need of it. "Bring up the boat, I don't think we can carry him up without risk of further injury." If they were alive – but he didn’t dare voice the thought. As captain, he prided himself in being a beacon of hope in an unforgiving world.
"Aye, Captain. On it," Alvarez responded. "Dermott, we're bringing him up!" Alvarez's voice carried across the ship, ensuring the Quartermaster, Laila Dermott, heard.
"Drop some lines!" Dermott called to the crew, "We are bringing it up."
The crew quickly answered her direction, dropping enough rope to attach to the boat. "I'll go down," Alvarez announced before swinging down a rope into the boat. She was nimble, and easily able to land next to the incapacitated man, despite her muscular stature. She did a quick scan of his injuries. There were a lot, far too many. He had stitches in several places. Despite the bandages, blood was soaking through. Without the stitches he surely would have bled out by now; she checked his pulse to make sure that wasn't the case. "He's alive. But in bad shape." She quickly attached the rope to the sides of the boat. "Ready, bring us up," she called to the crew.
"You heard her, bring them up. Slow and steady," Dermott responded. The crew moved like a well-oiled machine. They were in sync, keeping the ship level. There was a fair amount of weight, so they took their time. Eventually, after a lot of lifting, the boat was on the deck.
The crew swarmed, everyone wanting to gawk. “Stand back!” Alvarez commanded. “Wait for your Captain’s orders.” The crew quickly obeyed, no one wanted the ire of the first mate, she was strong and more than capable of keeping the crew in line.
With a path finally clear, Jeremy headed towards the dinghy. As he approached, the world around him came to a screeching halt. He would recognize the battered face anywhere, especially the tattoo that graced his cheekbone. The dark ink of the number 3 stuck out against the skin too pale to belong to a pirate. It was Jean Moreau, better known as ‘Three’, Quartermaster of The Raven, and member of the self-proclaimed ‘King of Pirates’ perfect crew. The most violent pirate ship to sail the seas. He was Jeremy’s enemy, someone the man had sworn to kill if they ever crossed paths. His anger overtook him, something that rarely happened. But like a switch was flipped, ‘Captain Sunshine’ was no more. “Take him to the bilge. No food or water until I say. No one is to speak to him, treat him like a prisoner,” Jeremy spat out, his vehemence evident.
He didn’t notice how the crew flinched at his words nor did he heed the looks of surprise and even anger that crossed the crew’s faces. Trojans helped others, especially those in need. Every single member of the crew had been in a bad position before they were rescued and joined their Captain. Some were liberated from slave ships that had been intercepted. Some were freed from dangerous homes, arranged marriages, and natural disasters. Paying that kindness forward was their first rule aboard The Trojan and something their Captain embodied.
“Captain,” Alvarez challenged, “He’s injured. We need to see to that and make sure he’s well.” She rarely spoke against the Captain, but she would not stand for the ill-treatment of a clearly broken man. It went against everything The Trojan stood for. She was well attuned to her crew; if sometimes keeping the peace meant that she had to challenge her Captain, then so be it. “From what I saw, it doesn’t look good.”
“I am your Captain. And I believe I’ve given you orders. You can send a surgeon, but make sure the bilge rat is bound and checked for weapons first.” Jeremy’s tone wasn’t kind as he stared down the wounded man.
Alvarez, as well as several others, flinched at his use of ‘bilge rat.’ It was the lowest insult that could be awarded to someone on a pirate ship. A lowly creature confined to the dark and damp bilge of a ship. Their only use was in instances of imminent starvation when some pirates resorted to eating them to survive.
Jeremy seemed unperturbed at Alvarez’s glare, or his crew’s reactions. “Let it be known that anyone who goes against my orders will be penalized accordingly.”
There was a finality in the Captain’s brusque words cracking from his usual demeanor of unadulterated smiles. Jeremy made his way towards his quarters, pausing as his hand twisted the door knob.
“Trust me, this is for your own good,” he said absolutely, his gaze finally landing on Alvarez. With that, he flung open the door to his quarters and slammed it shut behind him.
The crew stood on the deck and gaped, shocked at the Captain’s behavior. Wary glances were given to their new prisoner until Dermott intervened.
“All right, you heard the Captain! Everyone back to your posts.” When no one moved with her words, she added a concluding, “Now!” The crew burst back to life as if nothing had happened.