Sailing the Seven Seas *Starting/Not Accepting**

Mela

I froze for about half a second before nodding violently. Ryker beamed and laughed giddily. Captain smiled and returned to staring up at the sky. Something hard hit my shoulder. I hissed in pain and kicked the hailstone across the deck. Ryker picked up another and flung it at me. I hauled myself up in the nick of time. My expression went blank before I climbed up the rope, shouting at Ryker.

I tied the sails completely up, knotting the ropes securely. I swooped around to the others and repeated that, screaming that hailstones could rip them apart in seconds. Ryker quickly joined me, reknotting the ones I hadn't spent much time on. I couldn't dodge the hailstones, and now had several good sized black and purple bruises on my arms and neck. It hurt, but I wasn't going to choose comfort over the safety of the Calypso.

Huh. Never thought I'd use the words "comfort" and "Calypso" in the same sentence.

JEX

I looked up at Quinn and my heart fell. She really didn't deserve to have to look after a man in mourning, we were pitiful little things. I wiped at a few stray tears and swallowed hard.

Don't forget, but don't live in the past either. Cherish the memories, but don't look on them in sorrow. Hold those you love dear, but be ready to let go because everybody has a time... Rosa's words twirled through my mind, and I decided to take her advice.

"Quinn?" I said quietly.

"What?"

"I'm sorry I've brought you down with me. You've gotta be the most patient lass I've ever met in my whole life." I offered a weak smile, but it was short-lived. I was going to get the ring back, but for Quinn's sake as much as my own, I was going to try harder to let go. As much as I hated to admit it, she wasn't coming back... I wasn't quite done mourning, but I'd stop my moping anyways.

Crack.

Turtle exclaimed in pain as he was hit in the back of the neck by hail. Luckily it had been the hail crunching and not his skull, but that didn't mean its brethren wouldn't come in for a second attack. Eyes squinting, he looked into the sky. Mela and Ryker were swooping around frantically. The sails would hold all through the storm, and they'd been through worse, but them flying off wouldn't help. Turtle rushed up the ropes and started yanking on the right knots, tightening them.

"What the hell are you doing?" shouted Mela. "You could break something!"

"Don't be stupid, I had your job before I was a gunman!" Turtle yelled back.

"Really?" David nodded. "I don't believe you, but go ahead! For God's sake, don't pull them the wrong way!" With that Mela swooped off. Turtle scurried upwards, watching where and what he pulled. He was getting high; boy, it had been a lot of years since he was this high. His head swam. He didn't have a saftey rope...

He climbed, pulling on the ropes, anyway. Like much could happen to him. He let out a snort of laughter.

"Turtle, go down!" shouted a shirt-less Ryker. "Don't go to high, you're not built for this any more!"

"Shut up and hurry! I'll be fine!" Turtle yelled back. He was near the top now. He grabbed a rope and tied it around himself; it wouldn't do to nearly die and be found out. He tightened one last rope, and it was done; Mela was pulling on one of the side ropes to his left, and that seemed to be the last one. Turtle let out a sigh of relief and started climbing down. The swaying movement of the ship was alarming. He was hit over the head by another hailstone, and then on the hip.

"Hey sea," Turtle yelled. "You'll have to do better than that. Come get me!" Feeling confident, he let go of the rope with one hand.

And the rope snapped.

His fingers burnt from the friction, his heart was jumping through his chest. He fell down. Luckily he wasn't far from the deck; unluckily, he fell over a cannon.

Crack.

This time it was him.

Mela

I screamed as Turtle fell. Ryker was already one step ahead of me as I untied my rope, already running towards Turtle. He pulled him off the cannon, looking almost repulsed.

"What is it?" I shrieked as I closed the gap.

"He's... limp. I think there's something wrong with his spine."

I bit back a stream of swears and tears. "He shouldn't have been up there." I whispered, draping Turtle's free arm around my shoulder. I shuddered. Ryker was right- he was limp. Like a jellyfish.

Ugh.

Trying not to panic, we carried him to the mast, where I tied him in. When my hands started to tremble too violently, Ryker put his hands over mine and tied it with me. I choked down a sob and curled up at the side of the boat, the space swells of water skipped over when they flew over board. Ryker joined me, rubbing my arm.

I liked rainstorms. Not hailstorms. It was official.

Captain Clare Davies did not panic, no matter the situation.
So when one of her best crewmembers and--she admitted it--friend fell from an unknown height and landed with a crack atop one of their iron cannons, she merely staggered for breath for a moment before regaining her composure and walking over to where Mela and Ryker had taken him.
The mast of the ship was where he now lay, and where the three onlookers now stood, solemn.
Clare's voice was soft but stern. "Someone go fetch the doctor. Now."
Ryker scurried off and Mela watched with a hand over her mouth, as if she was afraid to breath. There was a time the Captain would have reacted like Mela, but that time had long past.
She knelt down by Turtle, biting her lip and trying to avoid the tears that were trying to escape her grey-blue eyes. Please don't let him be deceased, she thought.
Hail storms...this had been a first for the Captain, but the lesson had been learned. The price of the lesson was not yet sure. Only the doctor could tell them. Would Turtle live?
Clare bent down and kissed his forehead, stood, and walked to the railing of the ship.
She waited for the doctor to arrive.

You would think everything would be dark, being dead. But there was colour everywhere. Huge lights sliding over each other on his lids.

Turtle's back was numb, and he was somewhere between consious and unconsious. Subconsious, he remembered. He tried to laugh but couldn't move; he laughed in his head, and cried. He couldn't die; could he break his spine, and be worse than dead? He hated himself already. Maybe Mela and Ryker had everything in control. Maybe he shouldn't have helped.

He could feel hailstorms hitting him, getting smaller, it felt like. He could hear sounds humming around his ears. He couldn't make out what they were, but they were loud. Someone moved in the way of the hailstorms. He felt a whisper over his head, and a splash of sea water over the face felt like a scolding but soothing hand on his forehead. Don't insult the sea, darling, it whispered to him. Then there was a kiss. Just a press of lips on the skin. Turtle's breath whooshed out of him. He could breathe again! He had hardly noticed the lack of breath, but now he had it there was big difference. His back was no longer numb, but throbbed painfully. There was a bite of wood into his shirt.

Booms of footsteps stabbed his ears, feet running towards him and a knee next to his shoulder. A finger tested his pulse. He sure hoped it felt something. Otherwise, it was packed up with a needle through the nose and tipped overboard. That for eternity... Turtle unmovingly cringed at the thought. But he could feel his legs, his arms, the pins and needles over his feet. He let out another breath. Everything was going to be okay. A tear trickled out his eye from the pain of his back, and then he slowly floated into unconsiousness again.

Quinn

"I'm sorry I've brought you down with me. You've gotta be the most patient lass I've ever met in my whole life," Jex confesses with a weak smile. As irritated as he's making me, it's good to hear how patient I am. I smile back; I can't stay mad at him for long. Hell, the longest I've ever been mad at someone was a half hour!

"S'fine. Just try not to be too sad over Rosa, 'kay?" He nods and I smile wider. His eyes are so warm. After a moment of watching them, I hear a loud thud and the panicked voices of Ryker and Mela. What's going on? "Gotta go," I say and rush out the door with my sword.

Ryker and Mela run past me as I close the door. "What's wrong?" I yell after them.

"It's Turtle," Mela shouts. "He fell!" Oh no. From the looks of things, Turtle fell more than a few feet. I wait for Ryker and Mela to come back, half so I can go up with them, half because I'm nervous about what I'll see. The two rush back with the doctor and I follow them to where Turtle's body is. He lies motionless on the hard wood.

Crack.

One last sound, and Turtle knew it was all good and done. His back was fixed - it was strange, he hadn't anticipated that healing would be part of the deal. But then again, as a newborn with no choice, he hadn't really anticipated anything. With the noise, a sharp pain spiked up his back, as painful as anything he's experienced in his life. But it was over in a second, and for that he was grateful.

"Ow," he said. There were gasps, and even a scream that was quickly cut off. He opened his eyes.

There was the captain, standing off to one side; then the doctor, absolutely astounded and seemingly scared stiff. The other crew members were standing around with hands over their mouths. Turtle shakily stood up, using the mast to drag himself up. He stretched his arms and legs, then rotated his neck. The crew were still staring at him, just their gazes had moved up a few feet.

"What?" he said.

It seemed the Captain recovered first. She opened her mouth, worked it a little, and then something very unexpected came out.

"Holy shit," she whispered.

Turtle blinked.

Mela

I fell to my knees, Ryker right behind me. I put a hand over my eyes and took a deep breath before slowly standing, hugging Turtle tightly, and then twisting up the ropes so I could make sure the knots were holding steady.

I came back half a second later to tell Turtle "Don't scare me like that, old man!" Ryker chuckled and helped Turtle to his feet. A hailstone hit the back of my head. I grabbed it before it could fall and threw it at the clouds, yelling that "blast it, stop hitting me with balls of frozen rain!"

Ryker exploded laughing. I threw a hailstone at him and rolled my eyes. Now that Turtle was, y'know, not dead, me and Ry could get on with our epic battle. Over what, I didn't know. I just knew that whatever it was, he was going DOWN. I pecked Turtle's cheek -he was like my second daddy, of sorts- and grabbed Ry's arm, tying him in again. As he began to protest, I made my eyes big and poked my lower lip out.

"For me?" I asked sweetly.

"Fine," he said, softening. I beamed. I hadn't expected it to work.

But then again, you never knew what would work with Ryker.

"Turtle, how the hell did you survive that? That should have killed you!" The Captain hissed.

"Are you dissapointed?" David demanded.

"No, but -!"

Salt water washed over the deck, knocking Turtle backwards.

"Just get off deck. Go to my room and lie down."

Turtle blushed.

"Oh, for God's sake, we've been on this boat together for years, Turt! Just get in there and sleep. A bed's better than a hammock for someone that's supposed to be dead."

Turtle sighed, pushed a hand through his white hair, and trundled down into the Capain's room. He threw the door open and sat gingerly on the bed.

"What -" he was sitting on something. He stood up again, looked at the bed, and picked up a ring.

There was a gasp.

Immediately, Turtle was alert and his hand was on his knife. He pulled the weapon out, and looked for the source of the sound.

The bathtub? It couldn't be. But yet it could. Turtle advanced, knife ready. Before he got there, a man sprang from the tub, holding his hands out.

"Don't - I'm sorry, I was just - don't kill -" The man was looking at Turtle's hand, where the ring was, his eyes locked on it. Turtle brought it to eye level and showed it to the man.

"Is this yours?" he asked. The man nodded. "Stay where you are. Don't move or you won't see this ring, let alone anything else, again. Okay?" A nod. Turtle came over, took off his belt and tied the stow-away's hands together behind him. He bumped the man along with his knee, and as he was doing so he examined the ring. Subtley, he slipped the ring on one of the man's fingers.

"Don't loose it again," Turtle whispered in the stow-aways ear. "Because you won't find it again. I don't know what it means to you, but it means something. Take care of it."

With that, he brought the stow away onto the deck.

"Another one," Turtle sighed. "Boy, am I good at finding these."

Mela

Turtle came out, a man in front of him that I didn't recognize.

God. Another one?

I shot a look at Quinn and lowered myself to the deck, Ryker steadying my rope. Quinn had gone white. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. I was definitely going to be sleeping up on deck tonight. Ryker raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "Oh, you've got to be joking." I didn't blame him. I glared at them all (save Captain) and hauled myself up the mast.

The hail had died down, so I let the sails unfurl. I was bruised, cut and had ropeburns, but we had made it through the worst of the storm. A rush of cold water splashed over my shoulder, and I melted twice. Burning pain was frozen, aches silenced.

Mm. Wonderful. Now I could figure out why the heck I didn't know about this.

JEX

Good: I had the ring.
Bad: I was caught...
Horrible: I had just endangered Quinn's life.

That was a very, very productive ten minutes. Shoot me now! I begged silently, refusing to look at anybody, Quinn included. If anybody asked, I had been on the ship since... well I didn't have a story planned out yet, but Quinn wasn't the one who saved my hide.

I stared past everybody, into the storm, a stupid grin spreading across my face. I was out in the storm, if even for a few minutes; if I was going to die, here was the place to go. I took a deep breath, ignoring the others entirely. They weren't talking to me yet anyways, so what did it matter if I was paying attention or not?

They're deciding you fate? Well, maybe I wanted my fate to be a surprise. Oh, and God, I take back that "shoot me now" thing... I'd really rather live. Did I mention I think that in those two minutes I was on deck, I swear I went insane? Well, judging by all of that, I did.

Don't worry Quinn, I won't tell 'em anything. I promised her silently. She had enough riding on her shoulders as it was.

Quinn

Oh no. No no no no no. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but why in the middle of a storm and so far from land? I don't know what I thought would happen...maybe that he would just get off when we reached the place we would fight the two men and get that jewel. Even then, I wouldn't want him to leave.

I feel cold, not hearing what anyone says, not bothering to listen to what they'll do with Jex. I shoot him a panicked glance, but he isn't looking at me or anybody. A sorry, guilty expression is plastered on his face.

During a pause in the conversation, I say, "What if we just let J-the stowaway off when we reach land?" Everyone looks at me like I've gone crazy then keeps talking. What will they do to Jex? What if I'm found out? They'll kill me; I'll be good as dead. Jex wouldn't talk though, I know he wouldn't.

Captain Clare Davies, as stated before, did not like being defied. Being defied once, twice in the same week was utterly terrible, and made her want to lash out on something or someone with a vengeance only capable of a moody female Captain.
She had to admit, Turtle was great at finding these scum that seemed to hide amongst her crew.
"Turt," she said, "where'd you find this"--she resisted calling the man a nice array of words--"man?"
Turtle shifted. "In your room. In the bathtub."
Clare's intense anger worsened. This piece of scum had been in her room?
Her next words were a growl. "Tie him to the mast."
Quinn gulped, "Isn't that a-a-a little harsh?"
The Captain narrowed her eyes into slits.
"I don't believe so," The Captain murmured before turning to Turt. "What do you think, Turt? I'll let you decide, since you saved me from having this scumbag in my room for much longer."
Turt hesitated.

"Take away his warmest layers of clothing. Better than the mast, tie him to the railing of the stairs leading down under the deck, where most of the crew will pass him each day. He'll be like that for fourteen days. Two cuts of bread each day. One cup of water. Let him go and set him to work," Turtle said. He looked at the Captain, hoping he'd made the right choice. He wasn't good at making right choices; please let it be harsh enough, but please let the poor bugger get through this. Passing the crew each day... was going to be tough. But the Captain smiled.

"Good. Tie him to the railing. Let's get one visit in before bed time," she said. There was laughter and racous calls from the crew. Quinn, however, looked panicked.

"Turtle... Turtle!" he - she, remember that, Turtle! - grabbed his shirt looking decidedly feminine in the middle of a storm. Her eyes were big and desperate, but also a little angry. "Don't let them beat him too hard!"

"Quinn," he said slowly, grabbing her wrists in a strong grip. She struggled. "I'm watching." She was still struggling. Turtle lent right in until his intense eyes were just centimeters from hers and their hair mingled. "Trust me."

She stopped struggling. Turtle went away holding his back, which was throbbing.

"Are you okay?" Quinn called.

"No," Turtle replied. "I'm supposed to be dead tonight." More quietly, so no one but him could hear, he said, "And I bet there are going to be questions about that."