#m.wood|44

[devils-pirate-crew]

"How did it go?" Smitty perks up from his sedentary position, noticing Siegs returning to their group. He casts a glance sideways at Nico and Nick as they walk back up the street to The Electric Eel, the former talking warmly to the latter, who's still a little stiff in demeanor. "Seems all's well that ends well? We can forget about everything?"

Jonas checks to make sure he's out of earshot, then stoops down to Brendan's level. "Look, you moron," he whispers through gritted teeth, loud enough that it rouses Woody from his slumber, "You're fucking lucky I saved us from having to pay Suzuki out the ass. You had one fucking job, Smith, and you blew it."

"Who's Smitty blowing?" Miles announces (from his spot with his head in Smith's lap) a little too loudly for the quartermaster's liking, who silences him with a swift whack to the top of the skull.

"Nobody," Siegs groans. "I'm going to be talking to you tomorrow when you can actually think straight. Come on, we're going back to the ship." He pulls himself up again, opening one arm to support Wood's weight as Smith hoists his drunken crewmate off him, seemingly not wanting much to do with him after the entire debacle a few minutes prior. "Dawson, we'll get Marino to look at that for you?"

"Yeah," the pilot's mate agrees, despite wanting absolutely nothing to do with Marino - but he supposes it is medically necessary, right now. It still doesn't help the waves of chills that settle over his shoulders, one by one, or the way Dawson's heart rate picks up at the idea of the surgeon, with all his instincts telling him to run, run before and run unless and run.

But that's not important, is it? It's stupid. He should get over it.

He should get over it.

Arber's just like him, right? And they didn't - he's still -

Dawson takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and biting down hard on his lip to ground himself. "Uh, should we get going?"

Siegs adjusts the drunken gunner on his side, then nods. "Let's."

They thus set off for the Jersey Devil, Jonas with Miles leaning on his right shoulder, Dawson tagging along a step behind and to the left, and Smith taking the rear as far away as he can be that still looks like he's possibly part of the group. Dawson shoves his right hand into his pocket, finding his share still tucked neatly away. His stomach turns, and it's not just because of the new cut he's got (although the bandages Juraj had put on earlier were doing great work in absorbing the blood from that, so his shore wear luckily hadn't been stained).

The Voices in his ears have reduced to soft muttering around the edges of his consciousness, someone died for you again, someone died because of you again, you should have been the one, this is not enough. The pilot's mate swallows sharply, picking at the bandages on his left palm to try to distract himself from them, try to distract himself from how he sees a hole in a dead man's head every time he closes his eyes, framing the water of the Cove behind him.

Just making up stories. That's all it is. Hell, maybe Smith was right - maybe Dawson dreamed all of this up, the kindness he'd been shown, the connection Arber had placed, the warmth of Juraj's soup, all of it. Maybe they were trying to kidnap him after all. Maybe the Voices were lying. He doesn't quite know what to think anymore, it's all so confusing.

[devils-pirate-crew]

The group merely stands there for several minutes, Juraj clinging to Arber and mumbling in Slovak into his shoulder to decrease the chance of senseless violence, Dawson blocking the duo from Miles, and Miles sitting up on the ground, still clearly disoriented from everything going on. Dawson closes his eyes for a moment, pointedly ignoring the searing sensation around his ear, ignoring the slick feeling blooming at the base of his jaw. It's not the time to be hurt, right now. He takes a deep breath, hoping for Smith to get back here sooner rather than later, and fixes his gaze right on Arber's cheek, where the graze wound seethes with soft strands of pink, almost like smoke. Weirdly enough, Arber seems barely fazed by it, instead staring wide-eyed at Dawson.

He knows.

And Dawson's pretty sure he hears an echo when the Voices confirm it.

Smith doesn't return soon enough, in Dawson's opinion. But he does, eventually, with two captains and two quartermasters in tow. Siegs sticks by Nico's side in much the way Gallagher presses himself to Suzuki's shoulder, the captains on the outsides with the quartermasters between them. In front, Smitty walks backwards, gesturing wildly as he leads the way, talking in words that disappear to the sound of the lapping of the waves and the Voices' frenetic mumbling. When he realizes he's within earshot, he falls quiet, seeming to believe the situation would reveal itself.

As soon as the five reach the four, everyone starts shouting, peddling their own versions of the truth. Dawson can't distinguish any of it through his rising, pounding headache. Suzu and Gally corral Arber and Juraj away towards Nattinen while Nico and Siegs tug Dawson over to Woody, Smith following on their heels.

"What the fuck happened?" their captain hisses, looking between the group.

Dawson opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by Smitty. "I shot that guy," the gunner lies. "But I had a good reason for it!"

"You better," Siegs rolls his eyes. "Do you know what kind of hot water we're in?"

"They were kidnapping Dawson," Smith explains. "We stumbled upon them - literally, stumbled - as they were taking him back to their ship. The one with the cutlass had Dawson at swordpoint and told us either we pretended nothing happened or he was going to kill Dawson and then the rest of us. Woody," he slaps his friend on the back, "Bravely lunged forward, armed with just his dagger and liquid courage, and tried to fend him off. The cutlass guy hurt Dawson, but Woody saved him. I fired my pistol at them to try to get them away, and - it's an unfortunate circumstance, it really is, but if we're willing to forgive the attempted kidnapping of one of our crew members, we shouldn't be punished for their crewmate's death."

Miles nods to this interpretation of the facts, understanding that it's his best shot at not getting his ass kicked. "Thank God he's okay," he mumbles towards Dawson, the adrenaline coursing out of his system as he slumps onto Smith again, fully spent.

Nico looks at Dawson and shakes his head pointedly. "Keep an eye on them," he instructs the pilot's mate, already turning away. "Jonas, we've got some business to do." With that, he pulls the quartermaster along, crossing the distance between the two groups. Suzu and Gally, too, seem to have obtained the information they needed, and stride the other way to meet Nico and Siegs in the middle. The outlines of Juraj and Arber, sitting on the docks next to each other over the dead body, almost seem to ripple in the wind.

Dawson feels like shit. And not just because of the cut on the side of his face - what's one more to the collection - but there's an unwelcome emotion growing in his chest, one he can't quite name. He looks to Smith, who's pulled a passed-out Miles down to the ground and has Woody's head in his lap, then back to the duo on the other side of the negotiations, where Juraj's resting his head on Arber's shoulder, looking at the wound on Arber's cheek with concern. Dawson raises his fingers to his ear to check on the bleeding and grimaces when he finds them sticky and red.

Red is good, though. Red means you're still alive.

[devils-pirate-crew]

As Arber and Miles tussle (and Juraj heatedly explains to Brendan that a bullet in the skull is not death under natural circumstances, no matter what he might think), Dawson considers his options.

First choice is to actually run away and pretend this isn't happening. The problem is, this is happening, and it's happening because of Dawson.

He's dead because of you.

If he booked it to The Electric Eel, there's a good chance he could fetch someone who would actually be qualified to stop all of this. There's also a good chance that someone would be incredibly intoxicated. And another good chance that someone (probably Arber) would beat the absolute shit out of someone else (probably Woody) before he got back. So that's out.

Someone died because of you. Again.

The next idea Dawson gets is to try to get Juraj and Brendan to help him separate the other two. Given how they're arguing, though, Dawson is surprised that hasn't escalated into blows yet. Makes sense, though - even though Smith is a gunner, he is easily one of the most cowardly sailors on Jersey Devil. He'd roll all the way over for a single penny. And Juraj's the cook for Santé, so he probably doesn't have much in the way of weapons on him (well, except for Arber).

It's all your fault.

So that leaves only one option.

Dawson takes a single long breath to try to steel his nerves, then dashes forward into the fray. He ducks Miles's dagger, which swings wildly in an attempt to defend himself from losing even worse than he currently is, and pushes the both of them back.

Miles flails a little bit before falling back down again with a grunt. "The fuck?"

Arber, too, stumbles backwards, a little taken aback, but regains his footing. His cutlass slices downward, cutting into the bandages just in front of Dawson's left ear. The pilot's mate is dimly aware of how something burns, there, and how the bandages are starting to fill with blood.

Aren't you lucky?

"Fucking quit it," Dawson spits out, glaring between the both of them. "Can we not try to kill each other for five fucking seconds?" The entire group falls into a stunned silence. Dawson takes it as his cue to continue. "Smitty, go to the fucking tavern and get Nico and... Suzu," he recalls the name Arber had used. "And their quartermasters too, while you're at it."

"Gally," Juraj adds in.

"Nico, Suzu, Siegs, Gally," Smith recites the list.

"And make it fucking fast," Dawson commands. Brendan looks at the mess one last time, then brushes past Dawson's left side as he scampers off up the road, eager to make himself useful. With him out of the way, Juraj stands back up again, wiping his hands on his pants.

Woody, from his position on the ground, groans. "You're gonna let them kill me, Mercer? Is that what you want?"

Arber, who'd spent the last however long merely staring at Dawson, springs back into action, brandishing his cutlass with both hands, careful to hold it a significant distance away from the pilot's mate. "Shut the fuck up," he growls, "Before I pound you into the fucking dirt!"

"On za to nestojí," Juraj murmurs, wrapping his arms around Arber and resting his chin on the gunner's shoulder, coaxing him another step back. Arber glances to the side at Juraj, a little skeptical, but nods, his eyes flickering back to Dawson's left ear, as if he sees something that nobody else can in the dim lighting of the Cove.

So, so lucky...

[devils-pirate-crew]

Dawson, PLEASE explain to your crewmates that Arber and Juraj weren't trying to kidnap you. You don't need to tell them anything about any spirits, just say they were helping you and it's all a big misunderstanding before someone else gets hurt

Dawson glances between Arber and Miles, who are bickering loudly, then temporarily swallows his fear and clears his throat.

"Um, guys?" he mumbles, waving to try to get their attention. "Can you not - um, try to kill each other for a few seconds? This is one giant misunderstanding, I swear!"

"I'm glad we all agree," Smith chimes in.

Dawson sighs very sharply at him, Arber and Juraj sporting twin grimaces of exasperation. "Look, um, Woody, Smitty, I really appreciate that you guys want to keep me safe, but Arber and Juraj were only trying to be nice... Um, I, uh, accidentally fell down a hill, and they helped me out a little bit," he explains, gesturing to the bandages wrapped around his left side. "Can we please not keep trying to kill each other over this?"

Juraj looks down to the body in his arms, trying to choose his words to fit the situation. "...I think that was an option exactly one gunshot ago."

"There aren't any hills in the Cove," Brendan mumbles.

"You mean - " Woody hiccups, shaking his head. "How are you friends with them? Are you leaving us?" His dagger shakes visibly in the moonlight as he swings it to point to Dawson again. "You're leaving us, aren't you? Just like everyone else! Just like every-fucking-one else..."

"Holy shit," Dawson cards his fingers through his hair. In the darkness, Miles's features remind him of another man who'd held him at swordpoint, years ago. He swallows it down again. "I'm not - I'm not Marino, okay? I'm not going to run away at the first possible opportunity."

Miles coughs up a sarcastic laugh at that. "We saved you, Mercer. Whose arms carried you home? Who took the night watch to keep an eye on you when you were crying about how the angels were asking you to join them? Who kept you safe?"

"You're acting like - " The pilot's mate exhales sharply. "Like I can't even talk to anyone who isn't on our goddamn ship!"

Arber exchanges a look with Dawson that roughly reads This idiot doesn't know the half of what actually happened. "We're not going to take him away," he reassures, before his tone turns acidic. "Unlike what you just did to Joonas," Arber gestures backwards to Juraj and Santé's dead crewmate. "I should kill you to make it even!"

"Fucking try it!" Woody roars back, brandishing his dagger clumsily. "I'll fucking put a hole through all of you!"

The gunshot wound on Arber's cheek almost seems to be emanating pinkish tendrils of energy that drift backwards with the wind and wisp away behind his ear - or maybe it's just the light playing tricks on Dawson. "You fucking wish, you piece of shit! When I'm done with you, they're gonna have to scrape you off the docks!"

"Can we all agree this was just an unfortunate accident?" Smith asks, sheepish. "No harm, no foul?" The chorus of "No!"s from everyone else silences him.

Arber lunges forward to lock his blade with Miles's, both pirates spewing obscenities at each other. Dawson looks around at the town, but it seems the residents in the area want nothing to do with this, having retreated into their houses and turned off the lights long ago. The only source of relief would be from The Electric Eel, where the party is still in full swing... but it's so far up the road...

Fuck.

[devils-pirate-crew]

GET DOWN GET DOWN GET DOWN

Arber shoves Juraj back at the same time as Dawson drops to the ground. The bullet whizzes past, drawing a line with blood on Arber's cheek. Behind them, something hits the wooden planks of the dock.

Arber leaps forward, enraged, and pulls Woody down, cutlass's tip pressing on Miles's throat. "Give me one good reason I don't fucking kill you right now," he growls.

Smith grabs the pistol that had fallen out of his crewmate's hand, tucking it hurriedly away in its holster on his waist. "Because we're all friends?" he tries, chuckling awkwardly. "I'm sure this was all an accident, right, Woody? You didn't mean to fire my gun?" His eyes are full of pleading; he seems desperate to be anywhere but here. "We were all just joking around and we forgot it was loaded?"

"What the fuck," Arber deadpans, looking up at Brendan.

Miles takes the opportunity where he's not being watched to first realize he has a dagger hidden on his belt, then draw it, then knock Arber's cutlass out of the way with it, rolling out of his reach and pulling himself up, a little unsteady. Arber curses when he looks back, returning to his initial stance of pointing his sword at Miles, which the other pirate reciprocates with his significantly shorter dagger.

Meanwhile, Juraj dashes back to where a lump lies on the dock. He squats down to look at it, then gasps. "Arber!" he yells. "That fucker shot Nattinen!"

"What?" Arber yells. If Dawson looks closely, he can almost swear he sees wisps of pinkish energy seeping out of Arber's wound. He definitely can hear the echoes of Arber's spirits muttering to themselves, though it's quiet under the panicking of his own Voices.

"You fucking killed him!" Juraj gestures to the body on the dock, glaring at Woody. "That's one of our crewmates and you killed him!"

"You're trying to steal Dawson!" Miles roars back, gesturing to the pilot's mate with his dagger.

"Can you not point that at me," Dawson mumbles, taking half a step back.

"Are you sure he's dead?" Brendan asks, bouncing nervously from one foot to another as he approaches Juraj.

"I'm pretty fucking sure," Juraj retorts. "Given the hole straight through his skull." He lifts the limp body's head up. The reflection of the water through the gunshot wound etches itself onto the backs of Dawson's eyelids.

"That does look bad," Smith comments, lackadaisically and almost apathetically, stopping a few feet away to look down at the body. "Well, it looks like he bumped his head really badly when he fell! I'm sure we can all agree it was an accident? Things like that just happen sometimes, you know..."

"What the fuck," Juraj closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"How about I accidentally beat the shit out of you," Arber spits out, side-eyeing Brendan.

"How about you don't kidnap our crewmate?" Woody shouts in reply.

"We weren't fucking kidnapping him, moron!" Arber thrusts his cutlass forward slightly to emphasize.

Miles's dagger arm shakes with rage. "Sure you fucking weren't!"

Dawson takes another step back. Some of the Voices are screaming at him to run far, far away from this mess; others are insisting he help his crewmates and turn on his new friends; and others still want him to do the exact opposite. The screaming of the actual people involved, outside of the Voices, isn't helping matters either.

Honestly, looking at this mess, Dawson kind of wishes he got shot instead.

[devils-pirate-crew]

"You didn't bring anything with you, right?" Juraj asks, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

"I don't think so," Dawson mumbles. He checks his pockets - the satchel with his salary is still there. He should probably give them something for this mess. When they leave him, he decides. Yeah. Judging by Juraj and Arber's general state of existence, he very much doubts that they'd allow him to pay them, but it's the least he can do. "Um, should we get going?"

Arber nods. "Suzu made it sound like a search party was going out for you, so it's probably for the best." He heads for the open doorway.

"How long are you guys staying here?" Juraj tilts his head towards the exit, clearly implying that Dawson go in the middle, between the other two pirates.

The pilot's mate shrugs, getting the hint and following Arber. "Don't know," he replies. "Nico said it's a restocking stop, but honestly, I bet we stick around until Quinn kicks his brothers out."

Juraj laughs as Arber climbs the stairs and throws the hatch open, peeking his head out. "All clear," the gunner calls, offering a hand to help first Dawson, then Juraj up. The trio cross the deck of Santé and Dawson takes a moment to admire her size and beauty once again before they hop off the ship, hitting the solid ground of the Cove. "Which way's your ship?"

"Not here," Dawson glances around. "I think we're at the other dock."

Arber nods, squinting towards the town. "I think most of your crew should also be at the tavern, so we should be able to just drop you off and go back."

"The spirits told us to talk to Jack and Cole," Juraj reminds his crewmate as they start moving again.

"You think we want to be associated with them?" The gunner rolls his eyes. "Cole's probably half-naked and singing some sea shanty horrendously out of tune while standing on a table so he isn't shorter than everyone else. Or he's been kicked out by Quinn and the rest of the tavern's workers... and is half-naked and singing some sea shanty out of tune in the street. I say we just make a break for the Jersey Devil."

As Arber and Juraj deliberate, two sailors stumble down the main street of the Cove. One's head turns to the trio, and, with a shout, he detaches from his buddy, staggering towards them, the other pirate standing there in shock for a moment before jogging to catch up, much more in control of his limbs than his friend.

"The fuck are you doing with Dawson?" As the two approach, Dawson bites down on his lip. The smell of alcohol is strong on them. Yep, Woody drank away his entire salary in one night, and, from Smith's completely bushed expression, he was the one chosen to babysit.

"We're taking him back to the ship," Juraj responds, casting a glance to the other two to play along. "He - "

"You're taking him to your ship?" Miles sways on his feet, a little unsteady, as Brendan catches up to him and offers his shoulder to lean on. Miles's eyes widen as he looks down to his friend's waist - with an unusually deft move for even sober Woody, he snatches the pistol strapped to Smith's side before the older pirate can react. He points it in the vague direction of Juraj. "You're stealing him? What the fuck did you do to him?"

Arber steps casually in front of his crewmate to protect him, staring the pistol down, eyes to barrel, as he pulls his cutlass out, tip glimmering dangerously in the starlight as he levels it with Miles's throat. "We're not stealing him, asshole," he grits his teeth. Dawson closes his eyes, trying to ignore the rising in volume of his Voices as well as Arber's spirits.

"Heyyy, let's put that down," Smith tries, batting at Woody's hand to knock the pistol away, even as he looks at the others with an expression that screams I don't want to be in this situation just as much as you do, please believe me. "No reason to use that! Everything's okay! The Crown isn't here! We're all friends, it's all good..."

"Friends? They're stealing Dawson!"

Brendan sighs. "They're not - "

Miles's finger closes on the trigger.

The pistol goes off.