Chapter Text
“No.”
“What? Don't tell me you're scared of losing.” Finn wiggled his eyebrows, clearly trying to taunt her again.
“I am not! I just reckon it's not a fair game.”
“Tsk tsk,” he shook his index finger at her, looking very smug. “Don't worry, I'll go easy on you at first.”
Calypso sighed. She didn't feel like trying to reason with a rock right now. But the only reason she'd come here in the first place was to repay a debt she owed to said rock, so she supposed she'd have to humour him.
“...Don't say I didn't warn you.”
“Alrighttt, bet!” He grinned, already reaching for the cooler next to them.
…
Some time later, Calypso found herself calmly downing another can of beer, adding it to the growing pile on the table. She'd lost track of how many rounds it had been, but she still had her wits about her. Truthfully, she'd barely felt anything.
Finn, on the other hand...
Her eyes landed on his drowsy form beside her. His fingers clutched the drink weakly, as if he were about to let it slip. His shoulders were slouched, his head drooping forward as he stared blankly at the beer in his hand.
Calypso stared at him for a moment. This was the guy who had challenged her to a drinking contest. She took another leisurely sip of her own drink.
He really was an idiot.
The two of them had moved to a table on the edge of the party, away from most of the crowd. The music was faint now, no longer shaking her nerves. She was glad about that.
A dizzy groan escaped Finn as he clutched his head. “Bro... No way...”
“Grew up around pirates, ‘bro’,” Calypso said matter-of-factly, swirling the beer inside the can. “You don't even want to know when I had my first taste of rum. This is nothing.”
Seeing the expression on his face, she felt the corners of her mouth lift, a chuckle threatening to escape.
But she quickly stopped herself. Guilt gnawed its way into her chest.
She didn't deserve to enjoy herself. Not after what she'd done. Not after what had happened to her crew and Capt'n while she got to live on. She'd only come to this party to repay a favour, per Finn's request.
..Maybe coming to a cheerful social gathering with her bleak attitude had been a mistake.
The pirate- No. She didn't deserve to be called that anymore.
The woman took another sip of her drink, fingers digging into the can hard enough to dent it slightly. The beer was too weak for her taste, closer to water than an actually good beverage, but it would have to do. Alcohol helped calm her mind.
Finn froze upon noticing her expression. And for once, he went strangely quiet. His shoulders stiffened, and a faint flush crept across his cheeks as he stared at her through his shades. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. (Woww this guy is capable of critical thinking?)
Instead, he raised his own beer and took another sip.
So he does know how to shut up.
Calypso set her drink down on the plastic table, resting her cheek in her hand as she studied him.
Finn McCool was not a malicious person. She'd suspected that at first, but the more she had seen of him, the harder it was to imagine him genuinely trying to hurt anyone without reason.
Still, she couldn't quite figure out what he wanted from her. Not treasure, clearly.
He'd gotten her cutlasses repaired , then he'd given her a dress and invited her to this party, which she'd expected to be some sort of humiliation ritual. Instead, she was sitting at a table drinking beer with him while his friends got drunk and did stupid shit in the background.
He clearly had plenty of people to spend time with. So why was he sitting here with her instead? Someone he barely knew. Someone who hadn't exactly given him much reason to like her.
…
She noticed the red tinge on his face had deepened considerably. Every now and then, he glanced at her through those sunglasses before looking back down at his drink, his expression becoming increasingly difficult to read.
The scene was strangely peaceful. The music from the rest of the party had faded into the background, and the desert around them was quiet save for the occasional burst of laughter from somewhere behind them.
She couldn't remember actually acting like a normal person her age. Someone who'd hang out with friends her age, go to parties and buy clothes at the mall. Of course she had her crewmates, but that was different.
Calypso watched him for another moment. “I have never seen someone get so red from drinking before. You look like a tomato,” she remarked, raising an eyebrow.
The gangster leaned back, head tilting towards the sky. “Yup. Drinking.”
His fingers twitched slightly around the can before settling again.
“So,” she started. “Why was Player fighting you?”
Finn's expression fell slightly, whatever hopefulness had been there disappearing. He began tracing the seams of his baseball cap, his words coming out slightly slurred. “I first... fought 'em cuz of a misunderstanding. And they wanted somethin' from me too.”
“Oh.” She recalled him promising to give Player what they had ‘come for’ if they beat him. “What was it?”
“A card, I guess.” He hiccuped, scratching his chin. The reply came painfully dry.
“Okay. What sort of card did they want-?”
Calypso was cut off when Finn suddenly raised a finger to his lips, shushing her.
“Shhhh, les not talk about Playr right now...” He pulled his hand away almost immediately, smiling lazily as a giggle escaped him. “They ain't even here.”
“Player...” He continued, lowering his voice as if he was about to reveal some grand secret. “I don't like ‘em. They have a couple o' shady secrets for sure. I feel it in my gut. Do ya really wanna be hanging around someone like ‘em?”
Well, now he was just flat out drunk, acting like an even bigger fool than usual. The only thing worse than Finn McCool was a drunk Finn McCool. Calypso sighed, turning her head away from him. “I... trust them. They certainly have their faults, but they were there with me when...” Her voice trailed off.
She didn't want to finish that sentence. And she definitely didn't see a lot of Player, only glimpses of them in Vermillion Village as they scampered about for their quest. As a matter of fact, she hadn't even had a proper talk with them after that tragic day.
Finn gave a small, sad pout at her answer, but he didn't press any further. “Aight,” he mumbled gruffly after a moment, yawning. “Maybe I've been thinkin' wrong about 'em as a person. But I still think they're hidin' something.”
He reached for the cooler again.
…What the hell are you doing, Calypso?
Her fingers clasped around his warm wrist, firmly but not squeezing. Though, based on the strength he'd shown in battle, she doubted squeezing would really hurt him anyway.
“No more. No more alcohol for you tonight.”
Finn paused, head slowly turning towards her hand. She couldn't see his eyes behind those dark shades, but judging by how completely still he'd gone, he was definitely looking at it. Then the damn grin he usually wore slowly made its way back onto his face.
...He must have been terribly drunk. His cheeks were practically glowing red now.
For a moment, she thought he might just shrug her hand off. He certainly had no reason to listen to her, and he definitely had the physical strength to do so. She remembered how much trouble she and Player had had going up against him. Even with her full strength, pushing against him that day, she could feel that he barely budged.
How they had managed to win, she'd never know. Luck had truly been on their side that battle. Or maybe Trotter's spirit had finally answered her prayers for strength.
So imagine her surprise when he didn't move her hand. He didn't move a single muscle, merely grinning like he'd won the damn lottery.
So, uh..what now?
“Calypso...” he breathed, looking more elated by the second. One could practically feel the heat radiating off his face. “Does this mean...?”
“...What the hell are you saying, Finn?”
Finn didn't answer that question. Instead, he tilted his head, letting his face flop against the plastic surface of the table with a miserable little whine. “I wanna fight you again...”
He sounded absolutely pathetic about it, like she'd just told him they were all out of his favourite candy at the store.
“Please...?”
What a weirdo. Why was she still even talking to him?
Calypso considered punching him in the face for a second time, but she didn't exactly want to pick a fight. His... lackeys? Friends? Whatever they were, they were scattered about the party amongst the regular villagers. Punching their leader right in front of them was a sure way to make this party a lot more awkward for her.
Yeah. She definitely needed to find one of his buddies so they could look after him. The guy was speaking straight nonsense right now, and she was not about to deal with whatever drunken idea he had next.
...And did he just get her name right?
Calypso turned her head, eyes scanning the partygoers. Finding his people shouldn't be that hard. She'd noticed a couple of guys dressed in a similar fashion to him earlier.
Her eyes landed on one wearing a red baseball cap and shades. He was currently trying to climb onto a camel tied to a nearby fence.The animal promptly took his sunglasses off instead and swallowed them. The man stared in horror before immediately trying to reach into its mouth to retrieve them.
Hm..Maybe not him.
Her gaze shifted to another one, this time wearing a green baseball cap with a megaphone in his hands. He seemed to be conversing loudly with several villagers and another gng member.
He looked more responsible than the last, at least?
The bar was in hell.
“Stay put.” She gave Finn one last look before releasing his wrist and getting to her feet, earning a disappointed pout from him.
Her legs had fallen asleep. She had to lean against the table for a moment, waiting for the pins and needles to subside. Alcohol had a way of relaxing not only her mind, but her body as well. A little too much sometimes, depending on how much she drank, and it could leave her feeling considerably more sluggish than usual. Calypso already found herself dreading the walk back.
She had repaid him by coming to this party and keeping him company. Once she got this sorted, this would no longer be her problem. She would leave, and hopefully that would be it between the two of them. They would both return to their ‘regular’ lives, and that would be that.
She didn't want to bring her misfortune upon him or his companions. Whatever strange thing seemed to follow her, she had already lost enough people because of it. She wasn't going to let it take anyone else.
It was like tending to a diseased plant. Sometimes, you had to cut off the infected branch before it spread its rot to the rest. And perhaps she was that branch.
Yes.
Calypso looked over at the guy in green again, preparing to give a shout or walk over to him. But the sound of a chair softly falling onto the sand stopped her in her tracks. She turned, sighing to herself as she found Finn attempting to get to his feet.
Finn was on his feet now, his head lowered as a shadow cast over his face. He caught himself against the table, swaying slightly as he looked at her. “Wait.”
“...What is it now?”
And then he did a backflip.
For a second, it seemed like he had actually stuck the landing, feet planted firmly in the sand.
Then he promptly collapsed onto the ground with a groan.
Sigh. Calypso wasn't really even surprised anymore. Her eyes drifted towards the green-clad man on the other side of the party. He seemed so far away from here. She glanced back down at Finn's crumpled form.
She wasn't sure she trusted him to stay out of trouble all by himself, but she wanted to leave this party, so she would have to hand him over to someone before he managed to do something even more ridiculous. She'd feel guilty if something happened to him because she'd simply left him there.
The woman crouched down beside Finn, who had gone strangely still. “Hey.” She nudged him. “Can you move?”
A snore was her only response. Has this dumbahh seriously fallen asleep?
“Alright, then.” She dragged a hand through her hair
She slipped one arm beneath his torso and the other beneath his knees before carefully scooping him up. Calypso had done this a couple of times before, back when certain members of her crew had managed to get helplessly drunk during their own little party celebrations. So it wasn't exactly a new experience.
And Finn really wasn't as heavy as she'd expected, either. Still, she had to concentrate. Her limbs felt loose and sluggish from the amount of alcohol she'd drunk, and the last thing she needed was to trip and send both of them tumbling into the sand.
Once she was sure she had a steady grip on him, she started making her way around the edge of the main party, towards where she'd seen his pals. One arm was tucked securely beneath his back, supporting most of his upper body, while the other rested beneath his knees. His weight wasn't particularly difficult to carry, but it was still awkward with him being completely limp.
Finn's head bobbed slightly with each step, his baseball cap threatening to slip off whenever she moved. One of his arms hung loosely against her side, his hand occasionally brushing against her clothes. She tightened her grip beneath his knees and shifted him a little higher against her, making sure he wouldn't slide out of her arms and fall pathetically to the ground like a stone.
She deliberately took a wide arc around the crowd, keeping away from the middle of the festivities to avoid any unnecessary attention.
Just repaying a favour by helping someone in need. Nothing else.
She continued walking, trying to keep her head down. She really didn't want anyone misunderstanding this situation.
By the time she finished taking the long route towards where she'd seen his pals, they were gone. One was completely out of sight, while the guy with the megaphone had moved to the centre of a rowdy crowd, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Now how was she supposed to reach him?
Calypso tried calling out to him and even waved, but her voice was completely drowned out by the excited chatter of the partygoers and the music. She looked around for anyone else she could ask for help. Her eyes eventually landed on Jerry, who was happily yapping away to an older person sitting quietly off to the side.
...
“Jerry?” she called, walking up to him. The penguin turned around,
and Calypso's heart jumped right into her throat.
“Put the rocket launcher down!” she spluttered incredulously, nearly dropping Finn in her surprise. “Who gave you that?!”
“The nice old guy!” he chirped, throwing the weapon up in the air and catching it.
Calypso wanted nothing more than to drop Finn right now and take the launcher out of his wings before something or someone blew up.
All of a sudden, the rocket launcher spawned out of existence with a faint pop.
What the...? Calypso's eyes widened. That was certainly a party trick she'd never seen or heard of before.
“...Sorry. I gave it to him.” The older man cleared his throat.
He was a strange one. Tall, too, with curved greying horns on either side of his face. He wore thick long sleeves and a bandana despite the desert heat, and only had one arm. He looked familiar. Calypso was sure she'd seen him in the village before.
“How are the cutlasses?” he asked, arching a brow at the dude passed out in her hold but choosing not to say anything about it. “I have experience working with sword gears. Had a gear business back at... home. And my son’s best friend is- Ahem. Uses a sword.”
Ah. Was this the buddy that Finn was talking about? He seemed a lot more friendly and proper than his gang members.
“Good as new, thank you...”
She turned towards Jerry again, who was now staring at Finn.
“Is he dead?”
“He will be when he wakes up. I'll make sure of it.” She huffed, throwing the unconscious gangster a disapproving look.
“Ah... Okay!” Jerry gave her the closest thing to a thumbs-up that he could physically do.
“See you next time! Terry's gonna come fetch me.”
“...Alright. Please don't blow anyone up.” She shifted her gaze quickly to the stranger, then back to Jerry.
“Bye Calypso!!!!”
...
The woman walked around the outside of the party, continuing her search for his people. Where was the rest of his gang? Calypso just wanted to hand him over and be done with it.
Now that she thought about it, she had no idea where Finn lived.
So now Calypso was at a loss. She wasn't sure if leaving him unconscious on the sand in the night was a good idea. But she also wasn't sure if his buddies were around to take care of him.
There was one place she could think of to go now, but she'd been trying to avoid that conclusion.
The pirate camp. Back with her.
Was this a bad idea?
…Yes. But she wasn’t sure what party people would do in this situation. Is it normal for them to crash at each other’s places?
But she'd just let him crash for the night. When he was awake the next day, she'd kick him out, and that'll be all. Calypso adjusted her grip on Finn and started walking again, this time back towards the camp.
The walk back was quiet as the music from the party slowly faded out, the silence occasionally broken by a slight snore from him. It was starting to get cold now that the desert had settled into night, but his body was warm through his clothes.
Suddenly, she felt Finn stir slightly, so she slowed her steps.
His head tilted towards her. For a moment, he simply stared at her from behind his dark shades. “Ah... Hey there.”
“...You're awake. Are you able to walk by yourself?”
“Uh... Nah. I think I'll need to be held.” He shifted comfortably in her arms, his voice lazy and slurred. “By you specifically, though.”
Calypso came to a stop, fighting the strange feeling crawling up her chest.
He was just drunk, and drunk people weren't in their right minds. But Finn McCool wasn't a regular person.
“Warm...” Finn sighed dreamily.
“Finn McCool.”
“Mhm?”
“Where do you live?”
His mouth curled into a lazy, contented smile. “‘Dunno...”
“You don't- You don't know where you live?”
“...Don't wanna go anywhere.”
“And why is that?”
But before he could answer, Finn passed out again, a satisfied smile still on his damn face. His head lolled against her shoulder, and he went completely limp again.
Oh. She'd wanted to ask him where she could drop him off.
Calypso stared down at him, utterly unimpressed. Wasn't this the gang leader who'd easily held off two experienced (and armed) opponents with nothing but a wooden bat?
After a few moments of walking and cursing under her breath, the familiar pirate camp came into view.
Moving past the smaller tents, Calypso headed towards the one she'd been using. She looked down at Finn in her arms, then back at the other tents scattered about. She'd never moved any of her crew's belongings after that day. They remained untouched, their things left exactly as they were when they'd left for the temple.
She'd been scared of ruining it all. Scared that if she moved anything, even a little, she'd have to accept that they weren't coming back.Because of her. So she froze time.
She carefully set Finn down on the mat inside her tent, making sure his head didn't hit the floor before placing a pillow behind it and throwing a blanket over him. He shifted slightly in his sleep, mumbling something incomprehensible before letting out a loud snore.
Wouldn't his gang come looking for him? And when they did, would they assume she'd kidnapped him? it definitely wouldn't look particularly good from their perspective. She had brought him all the way back to her camp while he was unconscious, after all.
But Calypso wasn’t sure what else to do with him in this situation. She had no idea where he lived, and leaving him alone in a desert party while he was that drunk seemed like a recipe for troub;e. So for now, she decided to leave him in her tent and hope his companions didn't come looking until morning.
She headed off to Trotter's tent next door instead. It was the largest tent in the camp, rectangular in shape and greyish in colour.
The inside was just as she remembered. Scrolls and small crates were scattered across the floor of tattered mats. His hammock and a small pile of pillows sat in the corner. A chest filled with trinkets he'd collected from his adventures over the years rested nearby. Nothing was particularly valuable in money. Only in sentiment.
Capt'n...
She closed the tent flap behind her, hands dropping to her sides as she stared at the scene. How long had it been since he'd left her?
Her fingers dragged slowly across each surface as she walked around, picking up the thin layer of dust that had begun to settle. But she quickly retracted her hand, staring at the faint dust coating her fingers.
No. She didn't want to taint his memory with her ‘filthy’ red hands.
Calypso looked away. She changed into her sleepwear, folding the dress with care and setting it aside. Then she climbed into Trotter's hammock, pulling the blanket over herself.
It felt so strange being here again. Everything was exactly where he'd left it, and yet somehow, it felt like a lifetime had passed.
She closed her eyes.She'd only meant to stay here for tonight. Tomorrow, she'd deal with Finn. She braced herself for the usual visions, nightmares, or sleeplessness.
...
The haunting silence was broken by a terrible snore from the tent next to her. Which was her tent. The tents were only separated by a thin layer, so the sound easily travelled to her.
...
It seemed Finn McCool was able to irritate her even in his sleep.
Calypso exhaled softly, laying back in the hammock, staring at the tented ceiling above.It wasn't quiet. It wasn't exactly tranquil.But at least it wasn't empty.
Not anymore.
For the first time in a while, the pirate drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.