Chapter Text
Stiles clung to the crows nest as the ship pitched violently in the storm. Not a storm like any they had ever seen but then they were on a voyage of discovery. The weather had been devastatingly hot the further south and west they sailed, always chasing the setting sun. Sun… Was it only a day ago he was cursing it? Bemoaning his red human skin to his wolf crewmates who laughed and smacked his raw red shoulders suggesting he ask the Captain for the bite if he was so upset. Even the other human crew had laughed at that one and Stiles had thumbed his nose at the lot of them before climbing up to his high vantage point. It had been he who warned the crew. He who saw the wall of the storm approaching looking like the veil of Death itself come to wrap its shroud about them. They had hauled in the sails and tried to ready the ship for it but the storm easily outpaced them, swallowing them up like the act of the gods it was.
Stiles wiped the rain from his face, glancing around them as the ship seemed to drop out of the sea, the trough between enormous waves sinking fast and taking them with it as the waves around them rose higher than he could see over. White-knuckled in terror, Stiles clung onto the ship as if he could somehow keep it atop the waves. The ship pitched to the side, a rogue wave smashing across the bow. Stiles’ own screams were drowned out by the yelping cry of several of the wolf crew as they were swept overboard and vanished into the inky roiling waters. Someone below was yelling Stiles’ name, he couldn’t climb down now. They were fools to be out yelling for him. He hunkered. If they thought him gone they will save themselves. Closest to heaven, Stiles prayed for every soul on board, every friend, every shipmate, every single person aboard his brother.
The storm must be drowning out the honest prayers of a sailor. The ship shuddered like a living thing, over the screams of the wind he heard a splintering as if some great beast had torn the boat in two. Stiles screamed as the boat heaved over, the mast and himself slamming into the water that seemed to reach for him with frothy claws and for a moment nothing but silence. Stiles swam for what he hoped was up. Disoriented and lost by the darkness. He broke the surface, gasping, yelling. Calling out for anyone!
ANYONE!?
A dark shape in the water resolved into a piece of deck planking. Stiles clung to it desperately, still kicking his legs and praying for any of his wolf shipmates to hear his screams. He didn’t want to be alone – he couldn’t do this alone! He had nightmares still of the giant fish with sharp teeth his fellows had caught. To them a bite was a joke, they could fight tooth and claw even in the brine but Stiles… He had no claws and only blunt teeth. He could try and talk and confuse it but from what he saw those great beasts hardly cared for conversation.
A wave swamped him and he gritted his teeth against his lack of breath, swirling end over end under the water as he clung to the plank – it would surface. He would surface. He had to!! Stiles might not be a wolf but he was a survivor. He’d survived the journey thus far – better than most! He was thinner but they all were, he’d live. He’d LIVE. HE HAD TO LIVE!! Surface and sweet air that was as full of water as the sea itself but he breathed it. Coughing and gagging he felt the waves surge around him as the wind screamed. Stiles clung to the plank, he clung to life. He would live.
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