Chapter Text
The ship rolled violently with the raging waves as Marco carefully balanced his bucket. Other marines were rushing to help secure the deck and tie down their cargo, but Marco was relegated to swabbing floors.
Yet Marco didn’t complain. Most of the other Cabin boys were currently emptying their stomach into their own buckets as the warship braved the storm. Marco could count himself lucky that he had a strong stomach.
Another wave slammed into the side of the ship and it listed scarily far to the side. Taking comfort in the fact that the older marines didn’t seem concerned at all, Marco did his best to remain standing and keep from spilling his bucket of clean water and rags all over the floor. While his sea-legs had been gradually improving over the last month, nothing could have prepared him for a propper storm.
One of the navigators, a kind man named Nagi, was casually walking by with a cup of hot coffee as Marco struggled to keep on his feet.
“You hanging in there kid?” Nagi smiled as he paused his stride to put a steadying hand on the young kid’s shoulder.
“Yes sir!” Marco couldn’t help but grinning as he spoke. “It’s gonna take a lot more than this to keep me down!” The determined words would probably have carried more weight had the ship not jerked under his feet and thrown him off balance again, but the excited smile on his face was convincing enough.
“Good to hear kiddo. We are going to be sailing over a cold-coral reef soon, and the relatively shallow water is going to kill the worst of the waves, but in return we’ll have to watch out for coral and creatures that might puncture the hull.” Nagi’s calm and collected voice was accompanied by a gentle smile as he spoke. Nagi couldn’t help a small laugh as Marco’s eyes filled with excitement as the words reached him. Where most of the cabin boys would be concerned or worried, Marco seemed to be entirely unfamiliar with the concept of fear.
“Is it true that coral reefs are filled with boiler-eels?“ Marco questioned excitedly. Nagi’s calm smile never wavered as he thought for a few seconds before responding.
“Some reefs do, but no, not this one. There is a winter island nearby, chilling the water to the point where boiling-eels wouldn’t survive. Nail-sharks and Glow Corall are way more common here.” Marco seemed to hang off of every word that Nagi said. The navigator supposed it would only be natural that a kid from the Calm belt would be curious about the rest of the sea.
When the ship had crossed the Calm belt about a month ago it had been thrown off course by a huge whale that had decided to blow its blowhole just as the ship was sailing above it. They had been launched a fair distance and broken two masts when they finally did land not too far from a small island. It consisted mostly of farmers and artisans and Captain Jarren had ordered them to cast anchor there and spent the time making repairs before continuing their crossing into paradise.
It had been a small port where the people rarely saw ships larger than a 2 man fishing boat, so the marines had gotten a lot of attention. Farmers, carpenters, bakers and countless kids had gathered to greet the marines and offer their assistance. Yet after two days interest had begun to wane as the locals went back to their own work and left the marines to their business. Only a handful of kids were sticking around to pester the marines with questions.
Yet when the week came to an end even the kids had moved on to other things. Everyone but one frustratingly curious kid. Marco had remained at the docks, flooding the marines with an unending well of questions days after everyone else had moved on. It had started off as charming and endearing, but by the end of the fourth day quite a few of the marines’ patience was wearing thin.
Marco’s first question had been “Can I join your crew!?” and despite being casually brushed aside by Captain Jarren, Marco had kept at it. Every morning he would return at sunrise, repeating the same question. When he was inevitably dismissed by the captain he would flutter about the docks, lending a hand with repairs and restocking all the while flooding the marines with questions about the sea.
Captain Jarren had grown curious about the kid and his apparent lack of parents. Asking around the older islanders had informed him that Marco had been desperate to sail the seas since he was old enough to walk. Yet ships rarely crossed the calm belt, much less stopped on a small and insignificant island like theirs, so the opportunity to set sail was a rarity.
His parents had been fishermen and had always dreamed of sailing the world, but they had passed away while Marco was young. Ever since the kid had been rushing about the island helping out where he could. While everyone on the island offered him both shelter and food, the kid refused handouts and insisted on working to earn his keep.
After a solid week of the kid pestering them with questions, helping with repairs and quite a few villagers vouching for the kid's working spirit and responsibility, Captain Jarren had finally caved and Marco had been permitted to join the marines.
It had been a month since then, and Marco had been a constant source of both entertainment and annoyance with his unending pools of genuine questions and enthusiasm. The first time the kid left the calm belt and felt wind on his skin he had been damn near tears as he scrubbed the deck with a wide grin and unmatched enthusiasm.
Nagi couldn't help but be reminded of his own youth. The kid acted like a sponge, absorbing any and all information about anything and everything. From helping the doctors disinfect and treat wounds to listening to the navigators chart a course and read the wind, the kid was never far away as he listened intently.
“But we both need to get back to our duties.” Nagi smiled and ruffled the kid’s blond hair. While he claimed to be seventeen years old Nagi couldn’t help but think that his childlike joy made him seem even younger. As he walked away, Nagi called back over his shoulder.
“The cabin boy in charge of cleaning the hold today emptied his stomach on the floor of the mass hall, so the captain is leaving the hold to you while he is scrubbing.” Marco’s eyes widened as he gave an unsteady salute to the retreating navigator.
The hold had been off limits to everyone except Captain Jarren and the senior officers ever since the prisoner transfer three days ago. Only the oldest cabin boy had been allowed to enter and clean and Marco had felt his curiosity burning. He couldn't pretend he understood who the prisoner was, or why everyone was so on edge about him, but he had longed to at least get a look at the “Terribly dangerous pirate”.
The other cabin boys had whispered something about a white beard, but when Marco asked they just told him it was a dangerous pirate. This might be his only opportunity to get a look at a real pirate.
Hurrying along, Marco made his way further down into the ship as the relentless waves rolled against it. He made sure to stay well out of the way of the more senior members of the crew as they passed him. The marines were very stuck up about all the rules about seniority and authority and such. Marco didn’t really understand the point, but there were a lot of things he didn’t understand about the world. And if he wanted to learn he would have to play by their rules for a while.
When he made it down to the hold the guard by the door had clearly been expecting him. Nodding simply the armed marine unlocked the heavy wooden door and swung it open, ushering Marco into the dark room. Taking a deep breath, Marco tried to suppress his excited smile as he entered the dark room and the door shut behind him.
Pausing just beyond the door to let his eyes adjust, Marco examined the nearly empty room. The hold was located along the side of the ship, so if they had wanted to give the proisoners any light they could have fitted the room with a window. But judging by the interior of the room, comfort of their prisoners were never a priority.
The warship was not made to keep many prisoners, but there were four sets of chains attached to the wall. Each set consisted of two chains with manacles, one for each arm.
Three of the sets were empty, but on the far end of the room Marco could see a hanging figure. The person’s wrists were chained above them, just high enough so that they could not rest their weight on their knees, but too low for them to comfortably rest on their feet. Their feet were also chained together with a thick and heavy chain.
At first Marco thought that the pirate was unconscious, but a quiet grunt of pain as the ship rolled gave the pirate away. Whoever they were, they had to be pretty dangerous if they were kept like this, but they didn’t look particularly scary. Marco couldn’t help his curiosity as he approached to get a better look at the pirate.
Long tangled black hair draped around the sharp face of the man as his muscular arms were chained above him. A similarly muscular yet slim chest was visible through the loose remains of what Marco could only call a robe.
Bruises coated almost all he could see of the Pirate’s chest, and dried blood was flaking off his skin from various cuts across his body. Raising his gaze from the battered chest and back up to the sharp face, Marco was startled to see a cold eye meet his own. The pirate’s face was twisted in a deadly grin as the man glared daggers into Marco’s very soul.
Yet despite how scary the pirate attempted to look, Marco couldn’t ignore the deep bags below his eyes. His left eye was still closed, stuck shut by the copious amount of dried blood that coated the left side of the man’s face. The pirate was pale and looked exhausted rather than terrifying like Marco had expected him to be.
“Got anything to say kid?” Venom and suspicion coated the raspy voice as the pirate grew tired of Marco’s silent examination.
“I thought you were supposed to have a white beard.” The question escaped Marco’s lips before he managed to silence it and he could see incredulous confusion flood the pirate’s eye.
“What?” The pirate’s confusion seemed to shake something in Marco’s mind. This wasn’t some strange creature or terrible monster hanging before him. This was a person, covered in blood and drawing shallow breaths as the rocking of the ship clearly pained him.
“The other said something about a white beard, so I assumed you would at least have a beard.” Marco said genuinely as he met the pirate’s eye. The man was silent for a few seconds before he burst into raspy laughter quickly followed by a groan of pain as his ribs protested the movement.
“Ow kid, you can’t make a hurt man laugh like that.” The sharp grin had disappeared in favor of a smaller yet more genuine smile as the Pirate rasped his reply. It really didn’t sound like he was doing very well.
“Do you want a drink? I havent started cleaning yet so the water is clean.” Marco said as he gestured with his water bucket. The bucket was just as clean as the water barrels in storage, and while the senior marines would have thrown a fit at drinking from a bucket Marco didn’t think the pirate would mind as long as he removed the rags.
Suspicion gave way to surprise as the pirate eyed Marco and the bucket, but Marco could tell when thirst won the internal battle and the pirate gave a small nod. Stepping closer to the pirate, Marco raised the bucket so that the man could drink. He did his best to keep both the bucket and himself steady as the ship rolled with the waves and let the pirate drink.
Once the pirate finished, Marco lowered the bucket and made to take a step back only for the man to jerk and place his head on Marco’s shoulder with his mouth against the young marine’s neck.
“I could tear out your throat and kill you even with my hands bound, kid.” The marine’s deep voice was a lot smoother as he spoke calmly against Marco’s neck. “You shouldn't get close to dangerous people.” With those words the pirate drew back and sagged against the wall, suppressing a sound of pain as he put more weight on his raw wrists. Marco stood frozen for just a moment before surprising the pirate by taking a step closer and reaching for his face.
The pirate couldn’t quite suppress the flinch as Marco reached for his face, but Marco just placed the back of his hand on the man’s forehead.
“You have a fever. Has anyone cleaned your wounds?” Marco asked as he looked for the source of the dried blood on the man’s face. His search was interrupted as the pirate laughed once more, only this time it sounded a lot less painful.
“You are not the smartest kid, are you?” The pirate laughed as he pulled his head away from the hand on his forehead. “I’ll be fine, kid. A few scratches won’t kill me.”
Marco didn’t think the pirate looked very convincing as he hung limply from his wrists, but he was not about to fight the prisoner about it. Marco gave the man an unimpressed look before he sighed and stepped back. He still had a lot of floor to clean, and if he didn’t finish by dinner time he wouldn’t be getting any.
Settling into his work, Marco set about scrubbing the bloodstains out of the wooden floor. He managed to hold his tongue for approximately sixty seconds before curiosity once again burned too strongly in his mind for him to hold his tongue.
“Is it true that strong pirates can’t swim?” Marco didn’t look up as he worked, but he hoped that the pirate was paying attention. Judging by the slight sound of rattling chains the Pirate had probably been startled by the sudden question.
“Where did you hear that kid?” The pirate asked, sounding amused. Marco should really learn his name so that he didn’t have to keep calling him “the pirate” in his mind.
“One of the shipwrights said that the devil cursed pirates so that they can’t swim.” Marco said as he worked on a particularly tough bloodstain. It was probably a few days old and had seeped deep into the wood.
“Ah I see.” The pirate said, and Marco could almost hear the smile in his voice. “It’s not quite right. Anyone can be cursed so that they can’t swim, but only if they eat a devil fruit.” At that Marco raised his head and gave the pirate a suspicious look.
“That sounds like something you just made up.” He said with an unamused expression, only for the pirate to grin widely in what Marco could only believe was genuine amusement.
“You are sailing the grand line, and magic fruit is where you draw the line. You must be new.” Marco felt his face heat up with embarrassment as the pirate chucked at him. It didn’t help that it was true. Marco knew next to nothing of the world beyond the calm belt.
“Well it’s not my fault that the magic fruit sounds like a lie.” Marco muttered as he got back to his work.
“Hey kid, I didn’t mean to offend you.” Marco would have forgiven the man had he not still heard the wide grin in the tone of his voice.
“I’m sure you’ll get to see a cursed pirate sooner or later. Although it’s probably going to be sooner.” Marco turned back at the last muttered remark and cocked his head in confusion.
“Why would I see one soon?” Marco questioned as another wave rocked the ship, nearly toppling his bucket and swinging the pirate against the wall.
“My family has quite a few cursed idiots that are coming to save me.” The pirate’s grin was confident and full of conviction as he spoke. And Marco couldn’t help but find himself believing in that conviction.
Marco spent quite some time scrubbing the floor of the hold. The cabin boy who had been cleaning it before him had not been doing a particularly good job, and Marco had had to fight against sevray days old bloodstains.
Not that Marco was complaining. The longer he had an excuse to remain in the hold, the more questions he had been able to ask the pirate. The pirate had masterfully avoided answering anything personal, simply ignoring Marco’s attempts to learn his name. But he did entertain Marco’s endless questions about the Grand line.
By the time Marco had finally scrubbed out the worst of the bloodstains out of the floor, the pirate had told him about everything from giants to fishmen. He was pretty sure that the pirate was making half of it up, but he wasn’t going to question it and risk the pirate stopping.
Marco was still slaving over one particularly stubborn stain when the door to the Hold opened, casting blinding light into the dark room. Shielding his eyes and blinking against the light, Marco could make out the silhouette of Captain Jarren and Miss Julia his lieutenant.
“You are still here kid?” Jarren’s soft voice called out in surprise as he lowered his eyes to where Marco was kneeling on the floor.
“I’m trying to get out the older stains.” Marco replied probably a bit too casually for a cabin boy addressing the captain. Luckily the Captain was not as stuck up as a few other senior members of the crew.
“Older stains you say.” The Captain huffed as he walked in and ruffled Marco’s hair. “Seems like the other cabin boy ain’t doing his job properly then.”
“That’s no problem! I’ll get it all cleaned up.” Marco answered dutifully. He never intended to get another cabin boy into trouble. Captain Jarren smiled approvingly before gesturing to Julia.
“We are going to be having a chat with the pirate, so how about you go get yourself dinner and return to finish up down here in two hours?” Jarren smiled casually as he spoke, but Marco frowned as he considered his reply.
“Sir, I have deck duty in the morning. If I have to wait two hours before I finish the cleaning I will barely get any sleep before…” Marco trailed off. He didn’t want to complain to his Captain, but Julia spoke up.
“If the other cabin boy has been slacking in the hold, perhaps deck duty at dawn would be good for him.” Her sharp voice always sounded like a scolding, but Marco had come to realize that that was just how her voice sounded. After a month of being on the ship he had started to be able to tell the difference between a real scolding and a simple remark like this.
“Brains and beauty. That is why I keep you around Julia.” Captain Jarren smiled as he turned back to Marco. “You heard her kid, someone else will take over your duties tomorrow. Now run along and get yourself some dinner.” With that final dismissal Marco gathered his bucket and rags before scurrying out of the hold.
Making his way up to the galley Marco had briefly wondered when the pirate was fed. He had been down in the hold almost the entire afternoon, but nobody had given him anything. And if the Captain was going to question the pirate for a few hours he probably wouldn’t be fed now either.
Marco had spent quite a few nights of his life going hungry, and it was not a fun experience. He could only imagine how it felt for the pirate who was no doubt injured and starving where he was chained to the wall.
Marco had never liked seeing others in pain and discomfort. Yes the pirate might be… well, a pirate, but he was still human. And while there was a lot that Marco hadn’t known when he joined the Marines, he understood what it meant to “Question a pirate”.
He had been scrubbing sevral days old bloodstains out of the floor for hours as dried blood coated the pirate. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on, nor did it take a genius to understand that he should keep his misgivings to himself.
When Marco finally made it back down into the hold the ship had fallen quiet. Most of the marines were asleep as the night-crew ran the ship. The guard outside the hold looked to be on the verge of sleep as he opened the door and let Marco in. Marco was glad that the guard wasn’t paying too close attention to the two buckets he was carrying.
As the heavy door closed behind him Marco took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. The sound of labored breathing could be heard over the creaking of the ship as it rolled in the storm.
Marco felt his stomach twist as his eyes adjusted enough to make out the dark stains on the floor around the pirate. The fresh bloodstains were still seeping into the wood as a slow trickle of blood dripped from the pirate’s chin.
The pirate was hanging limply from the chains, his chest was rising and falling in shallow breaths. Walking closer Marco saw the bloodtrail that dripped from a badly bruised, possibly broken nose down to the floor.
As Marco stared at him, the pirate forced his right eye open and leveled Marco with his best unamused glare. Marco would probably have been more intimidated if the pirate wasn’t in such obvious pain.
“I’m not in the mood right now kid.” The pirate’s voice was rough between gasped breaths. Marco set down his buckets and removed the carefully placed rag that had hid its content. Pulling out the tancard Marco filled from the other buckets clean water.
“I brought you something to eat,” Masco said as he pulled out the bread-rolls and dried meats he had managed to steal from the kitchen.“but if you are not in the mood I also brought some painkillers and disinfectant to clean your wounds.”
The pirate eyed the food with a look Marco could only describe as a mix between suspicion and desperate longing. Before the pirate could answer, the painful growl of his stomach gave away his thoughts. Smiling softly, Marco dipped the cleanest rag he had into the water before wringing it out.
“If you let me clean up the blood on your face first, the food will taste a lot better.” Marco waited patiently for the pirate to give him a sign of agreement before he carefully wiped the blood off his face.
Once he cleaned up the blood Marco gave the nose a closer look. It thankfully looked more like a bruised nose than a broken nose, and Marco was hoping he was right. He also cleaned up the blood that had dried to keep the pirates left eye shut, and when Marco took a step back to discard the rag the pirate finally opened both eyes. His breathing also seemed to come a bit easier as Marco cleared up his bloodied nose.
“It’s not much, but it was all I could sneak out of the kitchen.” Breaking off a piece of the bread roll, Marco held it up to the pirate’s mouth. After a brief moment of hesitation the pirate opened his mouth and hungrily took the bread.
As he held up piece by piece and the pirate ate hungrily, Marco came to the realization that he probably hadn’t been fed much since he arrived three days ago. As he finished the first of the bread rolls, Marco offered a sip of water from the tankard.
“You are gonna get in trouble when they notice the lack of blood.” The pirate spoke softly as Marco was retrieving another bread roll.
“Well, you did say I wasn’t the smartest kid out there.” Marco smiled as he held out another piece of bread. “Besides, they ordered me to clean the hold, so they can’t complain about the lack of blood.” The pirate let out a soft laugh before greedily taking the bread.
They continued in silence until Marco had no more bread to offer. While the pirate still looked exhausted Marco thought he seemed a bit more alive than he had seemed earlier.
“I still have some painkillers if you want them.” Marco said as he retrieved two pills from his pocket and pulled out his stolen bottle of disinfectant from the nearly empty bucket.
“Hah, You are spoiling me kid.” The pirate smiled. Marco was still concerned at the slight fever that the pirate had. “I can take the pain just fine.” Accepting his words, Marco put away the painkillers and set about disinfecting the countless cuts and other injuries that covered the pirate.
“Hey kid? I’m Izo, what’s your name?” The pirate asked between hisses as the disinfectant burned in his wounds.
“I’m Marco.” He muttered as he tried to clean the raw skin around the cuff on Izo’s left arm.
“How come you are a marine Marco?” The question took Marco by surprise.
“Ships rarely sail past my home island. So I suppose I just joined the first ones who would take me” The pirate hummed in thought before another hiss cut him off.
They fell into a comfortable silence after that. Marco eventually finished treating Izo’s wounds and busied himself by cleaning up the bloodstains he had been sent down to clean. Izo seemed to attempt to relax, but if he relaxed his legs from their awkward position he would be putting all his weight on his raw wrists.
Flipping the empty bucket over, Marco placed it below Izo in an imitation of a stool. It’s far from a comfortable seat, but it is just high enough to let Izo take the weight off his crouched legs and raw wrists. Izo shoots him a look of gratitude as he sighs and relaxes to the best of his abilities.
It took Marco nearly an hour to get the bloodstains out of the floor, but he spends almost an additional hour meticulously cleaning around the room in order to let Izo rest on the overturned bucket for at least a while longer.
But eventually Marco has to leave, or else the guard outside is going to grow suspicious. Muttering an apology as he wakes the sleeping Izo, Marco retrieves the overturned bucket and the rest of the evidence before he takes his leave.
When he finally made it back to his hammock he was exhausted. Yet as he laid down in his swaying hammock he couldn’t stop thinking about Izo. He hoped he would get proper medical attention soon. A few of the cuts probably needed stitches, but Marco didn’t have the equipment to deal with that
Despite his many thoughts, Marco couldn’t stave off the alluring embrace of sleep for long. Soon he found his eyes drifting shut and the sound of creaking wood and snores around him faded to nothing as he fell asleep.
A deafening crash ripped Marco from his dreamless sleep. Tumbling out of his hammock he was joined by the other off duty marines who were in various stages of waking up. Tugging on their uniforms and shoes Marco was about to ask what was going on as another crash echoed through the ship as something heavy violently collided with the hull of the ship.
The shout of “All arms on deck! Pirate attack!” echoed down the halls as Captain Jarren bellowed his orders. All the marines rushed to their battle stations. Marco got dressed and rushed towards the canon deck where his own post was. Lugging around powderkegs and cannonballs required little training and he was no stranger to hard work.
Rushing through the hallways Marco dodged out of the way as marines rushed past him. He was just about to make it to the canon deck when a terribly loud scraping sound ripped through the ship accompanied by the ship jerking almost to a halt.
For a moment the marines fell silent, everyone looking to their neighbors as their eyes asked countless voiceles questions. What was that? How bad was it? What were their orders? Then, after a moment that seemed to stretch eternally a shout echoed from the depths of the ship.
“Breach in the hull! Taking on water!”
Chaos erupted across the ship as the shipwrights rushed to the depths of the hull and fighters abandoned swords in favor of buckets and planks. Marco was at a loss of what to do. He hadn’t sailed long enough to be told what took priority in a situation like this.
Making a snap decision, Marco decided that emptying water from their only means of survival took priority over shooting pirates. He sprinted deeper into the ship to lend his aid to the bucket chain that was no doubt forming.
However Marco barely made it to the end of the hallway before the ship was noticeably listing in the water. They must be taking on a lot of water to sink that quickly, and no amount of buckets would be able to stop that. Marco was about to slow down and think when another order came echoing down the halls.
“Abandon ship. Lower the lifeboats.” Marco had barely rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and everything was already going wrong. Another loud crash sounded as yet another cannonball slammed into the side of the ship and Marco was knocked off his feet.
Struggling to get back up, Marco was shoved to the side as the other more senior marines were pushing their way up to the deck to make their escape. Stumbling to his feet, Marco was about to follow as a terrifying thought slammed into him.
Izo was still chained in the hold.
The hold was located along the edge of the outer hull at the middle floor of the ship. The ship was listing heavily to that side and taking on water.
Cursing loudly Marco turned and began sprinting deeper into the sinking ship. He had to push against the other marines fleeing the opposite way as he ran down the hallway. Luckily the hallway down to the hold was mostly empty, the guard clearly having abandoned his post as soon as the order went out. The entire hallway was listing more and more sideways as Marco ran.
Rushing forwards Marco’s hands pressed against the door only to find it locked. Cursing below his breath, Marco pulled out his lockpicks from his pocket and took a deep steadying breath. Finding his balance in the listing ship Marco began working on the lock. He needed to stay calm and focused. Jus like when he used to break into the bakery back on his home island to steal bread.
Yet another horrifying scraping sound echoed through the ship along with a violent jerk. The ship was scraping against something. It was probably the coral Nagi had spoken about. Marco desperately hoped that the storm had calmed enough to not simply topple all the lifeboats. Nagi had mentioned a winter island closeby, right? They wouldn’t just be drifting until they starved, right?
Twisting his fingers in a final motion Marco felt the lock give and quickly pulled his lockpick free. As soon as he moved to open the door it burst outwards as a wave of freezing cold water washed outwards against his ankles.
Rushing into the now heavily listing room, Marco came face to face with a crack in the hull, ice cold water bursting through the crack and showering the entire room that was slowly filling with freezing water.
Izo was luckily chained on the far wall, meaning he was the furthest away from the water that burst through the wall, but that also meant that Marco had to run up the slippery and tilted floor. The ship was taking on water quickly and it was listing more and more towards its side.
As soon as Marco pushed past the bursting water he saw the chained man desperately pulling against the chains. Izo looked like a trapped animal with its leg stuck in a beartrap, desperation and panic clawing on his pale face as his body shivered from the cold.
As Marco rushed forwards Izo jerked away but Marco didn’t have time to be careful and calm as the water was rising quickly. Grabbing the man’s arm and pulling the wrist into reach, Marco plunged his lockpick into the lock. After a moment of panic, Izo seemed to understand what was happening and did his best to keep his hand still for the young marine.
“It’s an old lock. Only three pins. Keep your hands steady and just feel it out.” Izo said in a voice that barely hid his panic. Marco didn’t reply, just focused on picking the lock. He had picked similar locks before whenever anyone lost a key back home.
Ten seconds passed and the water was quickly chilling him to the bones as the floor listed further and further sideways.
Twenty seconds passed and Izo was starting to panic again as his feet were slipping on the tilting floor and the rapidly rising water was lapping at their ankles.
Thirty seconds and Izo began talking again as the water reached Marco’s knees.
“Oi, kid, the hallway is getting flooded. You need to get out while you can.” Marco ignored the pirate’s rising panic as he tried to get the last pin of the lock to open. His voice was shaking, but Marco didn’t know if he should blame it on the panic or the freezing cold of the water.
“Marco, you need to go! You are going to-'' With a final twist of the lockpick the cuff popped open. Had it not been for the water that supported them as the entire ship tilted, Izo would have been left dangling in the air from just his left wrist. Luckily, or unluckily depending on how long this was going to take, the water was rising quickly enough for Izo to keep the weight off his wrist by swimming.
“Shut up and let me focus.” Marco barked as the floor disappeared under him and he was left to tread water as he swam over to the other wrist and tried to find the lock. Just as he was about to insert the lockpick into the cuff a loud crash echoed through the wood as the ship made impact with something, slamming Marco against the wall next to him.
Marco had just enough time to take a deep breath before a new rush of water flooded the room as the ship sank down onto a solid surface and came to a stop. Opening his eyes against the saltwater, Marco was surprised to find a pinkish light emerging from the now gaping hole in the hull of the ship.
The hole was large enough for a fully grown man to pass through, and Marco could see the reef of jagged coral on the outside as it gave off a pearlescent pink glow.
Looking back at Izo, Marco was horrified to see him clawing at his throat with his free hand. He probably hadn’t gotten to take a deep breath before the room fully flooded. Reaching for the pirate’s chained wrist, Marco came to the terrible realization that the crash had knocked the lockpick out of his hand.
Frantically looking around, the small metal piece was lost in the chaos. Without it, the only way of getting the cuff was the captain’s key, but he had probably abandoned ship. And that wouldn’t matter anyways if the pirate drowned.
Survival was the goal. To achieve that they needed a key and they needed oxygen. Marco couldn’t get the key, but he could give the man oxygen. That would buy him time to solve the next problem afterwards.
Grabbing a hold of the panicking man’s face, Marco sealed his lips over his and emptied most of his lungs. The pirate’s eyes went wide with concern, panic, realization and probably a lot of other emotions Marco didn’t have the time to analyze as he turned around and dove down towards the opening.
Bursting out into the frigid sea, Marco could take better stock of the situation. The ship was perched on one of the huge coral reefs, laying on its side not too far below the surface. Countless fish of varying sizes and colors were swarming around them.
Pushing off the corral below him, Marco swam towards the surface with all the desperation of a drowning man. Perhaps he had given the pirate a bit too much of his air after all.
Breaking the surface, Marco took a desperate breath as he looked out over the sea. The storm had thankfully calmed down, but the darkness of night made it hard to make out where the lifeboats were.
Filling his lungs with air, Marco screamed for help. Marines or pirates, it didn’t matter who heard him Marco needed help quickly if he was to save the pirate. A burst of fire lit up as a small speeder roared towards him and Marco waved his arms to get the attention of the person racing towards him.
A young man in a cowboy hat stood on the speeder, bright orange flames licking up his legs and swirling in the air around him. Yet he didn’t seem to be panicking so Marco decided t\not to worry about it. Before the stranger managed to say anything Marco cut him of.
“Izo is trapped down there. I need the key to his cuffs. The captain has it.” Marco pleaded as he felt the seconds passing by. Every breath he took was a breath that Izo was missing and he needed to get back down there. The young man seemed to understand the pressing need for action and gave Marco a short nod.
“I’ll get it. Keep him alive!” And with that the fire grew brighter and she speeded away. Marco took one long calming breath, before properly filling his lungs and diving down again.
The way down to the ship seemed impossibly longer than it had been on the way up as Marco fought against the water. Diving with two lungs filled with air was difficult enough, not to mention the many fishes that swarmed in his way. As he reached the corral Marco had to waste a few precious seconds searching for the crack he had exited from as a school of colorful fish were swirling around the ship and obscuring his vision.
When he finally made it back into the dark hull of the ship, Marco was relieved to see that Izo was still moving. He was tugging against the chain on his left wrist with desperation written clear in his face. Marco did his best to get the pirate’s attention without startling him. The last thing they needed was for Izo to drown because he was surprised and took a deep breath of sea water.
Waving his arms in the dark water Marco finally managed to catch his attention. As Izo turned around to face him Marco was quick to swim up close and make his intentions clear by gesturing first to his own mouth and then to the other man’s.
Izo nodded and Marco sealed his lips over his and emptied his lungs into the pirate again. Pulling back Marco still saw panic and desperation in the man’s expression and he wanted so desperately to offer some words of comfort, however all he could do was give the man a thumbs up and a cheap imitation of a smile before he had to flee again.
As Marco pulled himself out of the sunken ship, a large shadow above him caught his attention. He felt his stomach drop at the sight of a large shark with a thick horn on the front of its head. That was probably the Nail-shark Nagi had mentioned, Marco thought briefly as he swam upwards. As he did he noticed more of the sharks swimming around to investigate the new addition to their frigid reef.
Breaching the surface once more, Marco barely had the time to take a deep breath before the roar of the bruning spreader approached him once more. The man in the hat crouched down before the speeder even came to a halt, concern written clearly on his face as he held out a key.
Marco was doing his best to calm down and control his breath in the frigid water. The combination of the frigid cold and the constant swimming was making it harder and harder to properly fill his lungs. The man looked like he wanted to say something but was unsure of what to say. Marco however didn’t have time to wait for him to gather his thoughts as he grabbed the key, took a deep breath and dove back down.
It was getting terribly difficult to swim. His body was frozen stiff as he swam down to the glowing corral, desperately hoping that the shark would leave him alone. His mind was becoming muddled by the freezing cold and he could feel his heart beating throughout his entire body.
Wasting another handful of seconds to find the entrance, Marco made his way back into the dark ship. This time Izo was already looking in his direction, probably eagerly waiting for his next breath to arrive and Marco didn’t have to waste any time getting his attention. As Marco swam towards him he held up the key.
His eyes went wide as Izo realized what he was looking at and he quickly presented his chained wrist as Marco reached him. With the key it took no more than a few seconds to open the lock and free Izo.
As soon as the hands were free, Marco dove down to the chained legs to free them from each other, only to find that the key was way too small for the lock. Wanting to scream, Marco swam back up to press his lips against Izo’s once more.
As they separated Marco shook his head as he gestured between the key and the chains that chained the man’s feet together. Izo simply nodded before he began swimming towards the exit using just his hands. The heavy metal chain between his legs was slowing him down, but it was not enough to stop him.
Following closely behind him, Marco could feel his lungs burning as he exited the ship for hopefully the final time. Kicking off the coral Marco easily overtook the Izo as his exhausted arms struggled against the added weight and restrictions of the chains.
Swimming up towards the surface Marco barely made it three meters up from the coral when a hand wrapped around his ankle and violently pulled him down. The surprise forced a gasp out of him just as a shark shot past him like a torpedo. Had it not been for Izo pulling him down, the Nail-shark would have slammed into his chest horn first.
Marco suddenly became aware of the fact that all the smaller fish had disappeared, no doubt hiding from the predators. Another Nail-shark torpedoed past him as Izo tugged him out of the way. Paralyzed, Marco realized that that would have been a deadly force if it had hit him. All at once the calm Marco had been desperately clinging too disappeared, and when he turned to meet Izo’s face it became clear that the pirate was not handling it much better.
Izo tugged him along, ripping Marco from his panic as the pair began to ascend as quickly as they could. Marco could just about make out the shape of a lifeboat above them when something rammed into him. Izo’s quick reaction was the only thing turning the fatal blow into a glancing blow as he tugged Marco out of the way.
The crushing blow to the side of Marco’s head knocked what little air was left out of his lungs. Suddenly everything was a blur. He barely felt something wrap around his chest as his hands feebly tried to cover his mouth to prevent the water from filling his lungs. His vision was going dark around the edges and everything was becoming blurry and cold. He faintly hoped that Izo had better luck than him.
And then just as suddenly as he had started drowning his head was pulled above the water and he coughed violently as he desperately drew cold air into his burning lungs.There was shouting and lights that Marco could’t focus on. The only thing that mattered was the next breath of cold, refreshing oxygen.
Suddenly he was being pulled out of the water and into a smaller boat. It wasn’t one of the marine lifeboats. It wasn’t painted in the white and blues that they insisted on putting on all their stuff. It was a dark boat, and Marco felt the grain of the heavy wood below his fingers as he was propped up against the edge.
Marco’s senses slowly began coming back to him as adrenaline and panic drained from his system. First the cold as his body shivered violently under the gentle yet freezing wind. Sound and sight returned at about the same rate as Izo was pulled onto the small boat by the two other people in the boat. Marco’s head was ringing painfully as his eyes tried and failed to focus on the strangers around him.
Marco couldn’t be bothered to look closely at either of them as his body shook itself apart. This was probably what shock felt like, his mind supplied helpfully. As if that knowledge was going to stop the shaking. Every tremor sent another spike of pain through his ringing head.
“F-for f-fuck s-sake give the kid your f-fucking jacket T-Thatch.” The shivering voice of Izo cut through the ringing of Marco’s mind. Lifting his eyes and attempting to look at his surroundings Marco felt a heavy jacket be draped over his shoulders and wrapped around him.
Looking to his side, Marco’s eyes met those of a broad-chested man with a huge pompadour and a pointy beard. The large man, Izo had called him Thatch, gave him a smile before placing a comforting hand on Marco’s shoulder and turning back to the others.
“Izo, sit the fuck down that shark took a chunk out of your fucking leg.” The final person in the boat, a boy probably only a few years older than Marco, said sharply as he was trying to get the former captive to take a seat.
Thatch released Marco’s shoulder and stepped over to Izo’s side, wrapping his arm around him and pushing him down to get the weight off his feet. Marco could see the dark red blood running down Izo’s right leg as the younger man pulled the robe to the side to examine the wound.
“I’m f-fucking fine Haruta. I-is the k-kid all r-right?” Izo forced out between coughs and shivering as he tried to break free from Thatch’s hold. “T-the fucking thing nailed h-him in t-the head.”
That would explain why Marco’s head hurt as bad as it did. A concussion would make it hard to focus, and Marco was finding it harder to focus than he should have. His mind felt as if it was drifting off in different directions. Shock didn’t normally do that, right? Shock didn’t make your head feel like it was still stuck somewhere below the ocean, being pulled along by the waves.
“You with me kid?” Fingers snapped in front of his face as Marco’s mind surged back into his own body. The Thatch was kneeling in front of him, trying to get his attention with a concerned frown on his face. That was a bit strange. Pirates were supposed to be heartless murderers according to the other marines. Yet the concern in Thatch’s eyes looked so very real.
“Earth to kid, do you hear me?” The man repeated when Marco failed to reply in a timely manner. Forcing his clattering teeth to cooperate Marco spoke to the best of his abilities.
“I- I’m p-pretty sure I am c-concussed. Or in s-shock.” His voice was a lot less confident than he had intended, and he was pretty sure he was slurring at least some of his words. Yet it seemed to be understandably enough for Thatch to let out a small laugh.
“Yeah I’m pretty sure you have a bit of both kid.” The calm tone did wonders to calm Marco’s racing mind. If the pirate was this calm then they were probably fine.
A warm hand was placed on Marco’s forehead only to be followed by a muttered curse.
“Whitey’s frigid tits you are freezing. Let’s get back to the Moby and get the two of you a warm meal.” Marco zoned back out again, letting the world happen around him as he shivered uncontrollably. The mention of what he assumes was a ship was simultaneously comforting and concerning. On one hand the promise of the warm interior sounded like a blessing. But at the same time he was being taken to a pirate ship.
Marco didn’t know much about the world, but even he knew that pirates and marines didn’t get along. Yet caring seemed to be far beyond his capabilities at the moment. He could feel the small boat rocking as oars were lowered and Thatch started rowing. The rocking of the boat that would normally be soothing was making Marco feel sick.
He could hear the roar of the speeder from earlier and suddenly the small boat moved as if someone was getting on board. The calming sound of voices rang out as the pirates greeted who Marco could only presume was their friend and suddenly warmth was embracing Marco’s shaking form.
He couldn’t help the groan of comfort that slipped past his lips as a warm arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him close to an unnaturally warm body next to him.
At some point Marco’s eyes had slipped shut, but as he tried to open them he was met by bright light and a wave of nausea. The person he was leaned up against was saying something. Dragging his sluggish mind out of whatever corner it had disappeared into, Marco began picking out the words in the sea of sounds around him.
“-sked me to get the key before he just dove again.” Marco’s muddled mind was able to connect the voice to the man on the speeder. The one who had gotten the key from the captain. Frowning, Marco wondered where the captain ended up anyways. He hoped the rest of the Marines made it out of the ship before it sank.
“Kid’s f-fucking crazy.” Izo’s shivering voice was filled with a strange mix of concern and amusement from where he was huddled on the other side of the unnaturally warm stranger. Marco could hear the smile on his face despite how he had to fight the clattering teeth to get the words out.
“I d-don’t know if he’s brave or stupid.” The warm person let out a laugh at Izo’s words only to fall silent at Marco’s slurred reply.
“A bit of both.” Marco forced out between shivers and pressed his pulsing head closer to the warm body next to him. Laughter filled the boat as the hand around his shoulder tugged Marco closed to the heat.
“Let me see your eyes, kid.” The young man who had been treating Izo’s leg earlier was tapping on Marco’s face. When Marco simply turned his face away the light taping turned into a firm yet gentle hold that tugged his face towards the young man. Prying his eyes open, Marco had to struggle to get his eyes to cooperate.
“How’s the damage Haruta?” The warm man asked and the young man let out a hum.
“Hard to tell out here in the dark, but he’s not actively dying.” Haruta replied as his fingers moved to examine Marco’s pounding head. Marco winced as the fingers hit a particularly sore spot, sending a pulse of agony surging through his skull.
“Ah sorry Kid. The nailshark got you good, but it seems like it was more of a glance than a full hit.” The young man gave a calming smile as he let go of Marco’s face and gently patted his shoulder.
“I’m sure it’s pounding like a bitch right now, but you’ll be just fine. Try not to fall asleep.” Haruta said as if Marco had any control over when his exhausted and shivering body decided to shut down.
“Haruta, If you are done harassing the kid you can help me with the oars.” Thatch said as he rowed. As Haruta argued about doing his job and the pirates devolved into lighthearted bickering, Marco let his mind drift. It was hard to gather his thoughts enough to follow the conversation, but the pirates didn’t seem all that bad. He could probably afford to close his eyes and relax for just a moment