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-- 1 --
They were ten years old when they first met. Smitty was kicking a rock around the docks and John was sitting on a post with an old fishing rod. The sun was low in the sky and the two were the only ones around, everyone else had gone home for supper or to the tavern for a drink. Neither paid attention to each other until Smitty kicked the rock too close to John. He had taken a step forward to retrieve it when it was suddenly knocked into the waters below the dock.
“Hey!”
The boy barely turned his head, but Smitty could see a smirk on the corners of his lip. He huffed and looked around for another rock to mess with, but none suited his requirements to be the perfect rock. Giving up on his search, Smitty sat on a forgotten crate and watched the sun continue its descent past the horizon. He knew he had to head home soon, and yet made no attempt to leave.
“Hey, you!” Smitty jolted at the voice and glanced over at the boy. He had gotten off the post and was leaning over the dock, grinning down at the water. “Come look at this!”
Smitty narrowed his eyes. He was hesitant about going over, not wanting to be any closer to the ocean than he already was. He didn’t trust the boy, either, especially since he kicked his rock away. The boy seemed to notice his distrust and rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna push you in or anything, just come here! I think I see a mermaid!”
Curiosity got the better of him and Smitty hopped off the crate, walking over to where the boy knelt. He pointed to the water, their two reflections peering back at them. “Where?”
“You gotta get closer! I saw it just a second ago!” He motioned for Smitty to kneel down beside him. “I think it got caught on my hook.”
Smitty risked leaning forward to stare into the dark water. “I don’t see anything-”
His knees scraped against the wood of the dock as he was shoved. Before he could scream, he was already submerged under freezing blue, chest seizing up with fear. This was it, wasn’t it? He would die at ten years, and all because he was lied to by a dumb, stupid, rude little boy. Smitty reached up in a desperate attempt to reach the surface, to feel air again because all he could taste was salt in his lungs and it burned. His vision was darkening, blurring, going in and out and this was what his grandfather warned him about. His grandfather told him that the sea was cruel, that she took her time in dragging men down to the bottom of the ocean.
Something grabbed his wrist and pulled him up. Suddenly there was no more water and he was being dragged onto the docks by that dumb, stupid, rude little boy. That boy who was now crying as he helped Smitty cough up the water in his lungs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I thought you could swim! I didn’t want you to drown! I’m sorry!”
And it repeated like a broken record, the boy sobbing beside Smitty, who was too busy trying to breathe to let out a cry of his own at the thought of almost dying. Heavy footsteps shook the docks, announcing the arrival of whatever workers had been around to hear the boy’s scream when Smitty had fallen into the ocean and didn’t come back up.
“What are you doin’, lads?” someone shouted. “You shouldn’t be playin’ around here!”
Another worker knelt down in front of Smitty, hitting him on the back to help out the excess water. “Did you fall in, Smitty?”
Smitty was content to shake his head yes and let that be the end of it. He’ll be taken back home and never see the boy again.
“No, I shoved him,” the boy said. “It was a mean trick, I didn’t know he couldn’t swim!”
The worker sighed and gave the boy a disapproving glare. “Smitty is one of the few children that can’t swim, John. You shouldn’t be pushing strangers into the waters.” He picked Smitty up as if he weighed nothing, and he might as well have weighed nothing. The shock of drowning was finally hitting him and he began to tremble. “Come on, we’ll take you back to your mothers, the both of you.”
Smitty didn’t look at John, the dumb, stupid, rude little boy sniffling behind them as he was taken to his house. His mother nearly had a heart attack upon opening the door to finding him drenched and in the arms of a worker. John stepped up after he had been passed off to his father to take the blame for what had happened. Smitty couldn’t hear what his mother said, but knowing her kindhearted ways, it was probably her infamous “I’m not mad, just disappointed” speeches.
And probably a little extra, because the next day Smitty opened the front door to rapid knocking. John stood on their doorstep with his own mother, face burning as he glared at the small bouquet of flowers in his hands. The glare faded when he saw Smitty and he held the flowers out to him.
“I’m sorry for lying and hurting you. Ma says that yellow roses mean apologies, so here.”
Smitty cautiously took the flowers, fighting back the red that threatened to creep up his face. “It’s okay. I think if you had known, you wouldn’t have done it, right?”
“I wouldn’t have! Hell-” A sharp tug on his ear had John whining and changing vocabulary. “Heck, if I had known, I would’ve been dragging you away! It’s dangerous to be so close to the ocean if you can’t swim!”
“Well, maybe you can help Smitty here avoid the ocean, then.” Smitty turned his head up to find his own mother standing next to him, smiling knowingly. “I sure would appreciate it if he had a friend keeping an eye on him”
John’s eyes seemed to lighten up and he looked at Smitty expectantly. “Oh, alright,” Smitty sighed dramatically. “But only if you don’t shove me again. Or kick any of my rocks away. Or lie to me”
“Deal!”
He was so enthusiastic that Smitty couldn’t help but laugh. Handing the flowers off to his mother, he followed John out of the house and onto the street, ready to take the day with his new friend.
-- 2 --
The raid happened far too fast for anyone to react properly. Smitty was helping the fishermen drag in their nets when the first cannon shot sounded. It hit further inland, destroying a few homes in the process. The seventeen-year-old whipped around and was greeted with a ship already dropping anchor, its black flags waving menacingly in the wind.
Pirates.
A second cannon went off, this one hitting closer to the docks. Chaos was unleashed as people ran for cover, frantically trying to hide as the pirates jumped off their ship and landed on solid ground. Smitty and the fishermen took off, the younger flinching when pistols started shooting.
“Smitty!” He skidded to a stop before he could crash into John. “What’s going on? All I could hear was cannons back at the tavern-”
“Pirates, there are pirates , John.” Smitty grabbed his friend’s arm and started to pull him towards the direction of their houses. “We gotta go, we need to get home now!”
The streets were in mayhem. People were fleeing from their homes, unsure of where to go and running about like chickens with their heads gone. The pirates were cutting down those in their way, regardless of who they were. Blood seeped into the earth, red mixing with brown and tainting the soil. As Smitty passed the rubble of houses falling to the cannons, he could only pray his own wasn’t the same. His mother, all he had left in the world, was safe and away from this disaster.
Before they could round the corner, another shot shook the ground. Smitty lost his balance and fell, groaning in pain. He didn’t want to open his eyes, knowing what he’d see ahead of him. That cannon hit too close to them, and they were too close to home. He didn’t want to see it.
Not that it mattered. When he opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of John being held at gunpoint by a pirate. Smitty panicked and stood up, already stepping forward to yell at the man, but the pistol only pressed closer to John’s head.
“Not another move from you,” he snarled. “Start walking to our ship or else the lad here gets it.”
“Smitty,” John’s voice was calm, collected, though Smitty knew better. He knew John was a mess on the inside. “Just run. Run right now.”
“If he runs, you die. Both of you.”
“Shoot me first and he’ll have enough time to get away.” John almost seemed to be taunting the pirate. Smitty took a step back and the pirate’s gun was trained on him instantly.
“I’m going.” He held his hands up and took another step back, ignoring the frustration on John’s face as he was forced to walk. Another pirate eventually picked up the slack and snatched Smitty by the arms, holding them behind his back and escorting him to the ship. They were led through the rubble of their town, the shouts and pleas still echoing among the cackles of the pirates. The main streets were deserted, everyone fled into the jungle on the island or not having the chance to. Smitty swallowed and kept his gaze on the sky and tried not to focus on what he stepped on as he walked.
He was thrown below deck alongside John, where a few others were held captive. The second they were alone, John turned to Smitty and hissed “What were you thinking ?”
“I wasn’t going to let them kill you!”
“You could’ve gotten away!”
“And go where? Home? That’s gone, John! They would’ve found me anyway and taken me. I would’ve ended up the same, except without you!”
John glared at him and turned away. Above them, they could hear the pirates dragging others onboard, their laughter too loud to hear much of anything else. No one was thrown down with them.
Eventually, the ship seemed to slowly lurch forward and Smitty’s stomach dropped. They were leaving. Home, just like he had said, was gone. And now they would be on a pirate ship, in the middle of the sea, for God knows how long.
“John…”
His friend noticed the way his voice faltered. “Hey.” He rested a hand on Smitty’s shoulder. “We’ll get out of here soon. Somehow, we’ll make it out. We’ll...we’ll go back home and rebuild it.” John looked at the few men from their island. “We’ll make it out.”
Smitty wanted to believe him. He wanted to close his eyes and wake up back home, where his mother was lighting the fireplace and telling him to get up. He could only hope that they’d escape and go back like John had said. “How can you be so sure?”
John smiled. “I’d never lie to you, Smitty.”
-- 3 --
It had been four years since the destruction of their home and three years since John had become captain of his own ship with Smitty as his quartermaster. Both were important dates since both were constant nightmares he had. Sometimes he’d imagine that the previous captain that had enslaved them did kill John, leaving Smitty alone to fend for himself. Other times he’d dream that John died during the attack. Whichever the case, John died.
He stared at the swaying lantern above him as he tried to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. He hated remembering how John had become captain. The last one tried to kill him, shoot him point blank because he wanted to prove that he could. Smitty didn’t think twice before running him through with a cutlass. He wished he did. He wished someone, anyone , could’ve killed him first. That way he wouldn’t have had to pass the title of captain down to John and they wouldn’t be sailing as pirates on the Golden Deceit.
In a way, they never made it back home. They didn’t know where home was. They simply sailed, doing whatever a pirate did along the way, minus the random attacks on innocent towns. They knew better than to do that. At some point they completely ditched the crew that had taken them, stealing the ship for themselves. During their travels, they met many men willing to join. Of the many, they befriended Craig, a navigator of the British Navy who was more than happy to join their crew, and Anthony, a stowaway who proved useful in battle. Somehow, the pirate life became their life.
Smitty hopped out of his hammock and shuffled his way to the top deck, being sure not to wake any of his crewmates as he walked. He hurried over to the door that led to the captain’s quarters before the man at the wheel could spot him and slipped inside. It was bad enough the crew was starting to question his and John’s friendship on their own, he didn’t need to give them more reason to.
John was sitting in a chair close to the window, looking out at sea. When Smitty entered, he glanced over with a soft smile. “Hey, Smit.” He didn’t need to ask to know why the other was here, simply waving him over to sit on the bed. Smitty collapsed against the pillows and sighed. He didn’t know how John slept in a bed, personally finding the hammock more suitable for rocky waves.
“John.”
“Yeah, Smitty?”
“Don’t die on me.”
His friend chuckled. “I wasn’t planning on it, but alright.”
Smitty sighed and closed his eyes, listening to the silence settle around them, only to be interrupted by the crashing of waves against the ship. He groaned and covered his ears. “I hate the ocean.”
“And the sky is blue.” John grinned at the odd look Smitty gave him. “Sorry, thought we were pointing out the obvious here.”
“It’s not funny, John. I’m afraid of it. It’s going to kill me one of these days, I just know it.”
A beat of silence, maybe two, before John was standing and making his way over to the bed. Smitty shifted to the side to make room for him, already comforted by his best friend’s presence as he laid down next to him. “It’s not going to kill you. I’ll protect you, alright? I always do.”
Smitty rolled his eyes and dropped his head onto John’s shoulder. “Excuse you, but I think I do most of the protecting around here.”
“Fuck off, just because you saved me from some skeleton pirate-”
“ Five times .”
“Does not mean you do most of the protecting.”
He laughed at the offense in John’s voice, closing his eyes. “Whatever, loser. I know you’ll protect me.”
The gunshot rang through Smitty’s ears. He stumbled forward, catching himself on the railing and collapsing against it. Faintly, very faintly, he could hear John’s scream. Craig was yanking the traitor back by his hair, Anthony already rushing forward and knocking him to the ground. Smitty tried to focus on something, anything, but everything was foggy and he could only see the red seeping onto his hands.
He knew they couldn’t trust that guy. He told John, pleaded with him to kick the newcomer off the ship, but John only laughed and called him paranoid. Now here they were. He was dying, all because of this…
Because of this dumb, stupid, rude little boy.
He wanted to laugh at the memory resurfacing. John crouched in front of him, and he was that little boy again. The one who didn’t think before he spoke, who pushed strangers into the water because he thought it was funny, who was too trusting and not cautious.
John shouted something to the crew, possibly a demand to get their doctor because he came rushing forward with his box of tools that Smitty hated to look at. He started to slip out of consciousness, head nodding and jerking whenever the doctor gave him a sharp slap on the cheek.
His captain held his hand, squeezing it as he whispered apologies into his hair, bringing him back to the day they first met. As he fell into darkness, he realized it was probably the best and worst day of his life.
-- 4 --
Smitty winced as he settled the barrel into its corner below deck, placing a hand over the scar the bullet wound had left a few months back. John had forced the spy to walk the plank, then shot and left him for the sharks as they sailed away. He learned to not accept every stranger that offered to work on the Golden Deceit after that, the guilt never leaving his eyes whenever he looked at Smitty for the longest time.
“Easy there, Smitty,” Craig said from behind him as he kicked a crate into its place. “We don’t need you reopening those stitches. Again. ”
“The doc will have a tantrum if you do,” Anthony added from his perch on his hammock. “The lad can only do so much for you.”
Smitty waved their concerns away. “I’m fine, you idiots. This was the last barrel anyway. Now it’s time for some well-needed rest.” He hopped into his hammock and let himself swing violently, settling down into the blankets with a sigh. “God, I’m gonna miss land.”
“You say that every time,” Craig laughed. “Doesn’t it get better at least?”
“Not at all. You seem to forget I’m leaving land to travel on my worst nightmare.”
Anthony snorted. “It’s hard to forget when the captain is reminding us every day to keep an eye on you.” Smitty felt his cheeks redden and glared at his friends as they left for the top deck. He huffed and settled back into his hammock, closing his eyes with a hum.
“Smitty.”
John’s voice shook him out of his slumber. He cracked an eye open and glanced up at his captain. “Heya, John.”
“We’re getting ready to set sail.”
“Where are we going?”
“...You trust me, right?”
The question did not comfort Smitty. He found out later he had good reason to be concerned as he stared at John while standing over the map he had bought from some stranger. “Are you kidding me, John?” His friend tried to say something but Smitty didn’t give him a chance. “A Kraken, no, not a Kraken, the Kraken. The damn beast that took out Captain Delirious’s ship and countless others! You want us to hunt for that ?”
“Look, I know it sounds bad-”
“I sure fucking hope you know it sounds bad!” Smitty slammed his hand against the table, startling the few men that had gathered around to listen to the conversation. “You’re sending us to our deaths, John!”
“I’m not! I wouldn’t let anything happen to you guys!”
He let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, sure, because we can trust you, right? Just like how I could trust you to protect me like you said you would.” Hurt flashed across John’s face. “Or how I could trust you to keep your word when you said we’d go back home. Or how I could trust you to do something so goddamn simple and not try to drown me!” He was playing unfair and he knew it, but he didn’t let up. “You lie, John! You’re a liar, and you’re going to kill us all!”
Smitty pushed off the table and stormed off, leaving behind a shocked crew and a pained John. He refused to speak to anyone, ignoring those calling his name and shrugging off anyone who tried to touch him. When Craig told him they would be sailing for the last sighting of the Kraken, he retired early to his hammock. He had never yelled at John like that before. The two were always understanding of each other, even when they had their differences. Smitty squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that would block out the fearful thought that they were changing, and if they were changing, then their friendship would end.
Someone approached his hammock later on and Smitty ignored them, not wanting to speak to anyone. “Smitty…” John’s voice was soft and almost weak. “I swear on my life, Smitty, I won’t let anything happen to anyone on this ship.” Smitty didn’t respond and listened as John left.
“For your sake,” he muttered into the darkness. “I hope that’s true.”
Like everything else, it wasn’t.
There was no battle with the Kraken but instead a ghost ship, a ghost galleon to be exact, and it wiped out half their crew before they could get away. Smitty felt the cold of the morning sink into his bones as he covered another fallen crewmate with a cloth. These were men he had served on the seven seas for over a year now, and they were gone. He had seen some as a father, others as a brother. They were family. And they were dead.
When their bodies had been lowered into the sea and a shanty rose to bid them goodbye, Smitty went to John’s quarters. The captain was sitting in his chair, head in his hands and weapons on the floor. He looked up when Smitty entered and nothing was said for a minute.
“You lied,” was all Smitty said before he left the room.
-- + 1 --
Smitty didn’t sleep in John’s quarters like he used to. He didn’t stand beside the captain wherever he went, didn’t joke with him or smile at him, let alone even speak to him. The crew noticed but said nothing. John said nothing, and Smitty said nothing. Whenever he saw John, Smitty could hear a voice hiss in the back of his mind. Liar, liar.
He didn’t trust anything that John said. He was always waiting for another broken promise, another death, another reason to hate John. And yet, he couldn’t hate him. He knew his friend was trying his best, knew from day one that it was all he ever did. But emotions won over logic and so he continued to ignore John until he just couldn’t do it anymore.
They finally had shore leave. What remained of the crew had dispersed on the island, some to recruit, others to spend their time in a fine woman’s bed. Smitty found himself in a corner of the tavern, drinking just enough to get a buzz going but not too much to lose himself. He didn’t realize John was next to him until he was leaning against his friend’s shoulder, talking to him as if he hadn’t spent the past few months ignoring his existence.
“Hey, Smitty,” John slurred.
“What’s up, John?”
“I have a confession to make.”
Smitty shifted so he was looking at John. The red across his cheeks was unmistakable from the rum he was drinking. “Whatever you say probably isn’t true, considering how drunk you are.”
John shook his head with a slight smile. “No, no, this is true. You see…” He leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I love you.”
Smitty’s heart stopped and he pulled away. “Yeah, you’re definitely lying now. Do I have to take you to some witch doctor to get you to stop? It can’t be healthy-”
“I’m not lying,” he drawled. “I really do love you.” He held his hand up and inspected it closely before taking one of his rings off. “Here.” He held it out to Smitty. “Wear this. I’m too drunk so if I wake up and see you with this one, it’ll tell me I confessed.”
Smitty stared at the ring before slowly taking it, admiring the blue gem on the front and the way it seemed to wink in the lantern’s light. “Are you sure you’ll remember?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve had this planned since day two.” He scrunched up his nose. “I mean one.”
Smitty smiled weakly and slipped the ring on, twisting it around his finger with a sigh. “John, I...I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you love me.” John blinked, then shook his head. “No, no, say you forgive me. I can live if you don’t love me, but not if you don’t forgive me. I’m sorry. For lying to you a lot. I just...never...never wanted you to get hurt.” A hand carefully rested against Smitty’s scar on his side. “And that’s all I seemed to do, was hurt you.”
Smitty swallowed around the lump in his throat. “You didn’t mean it.”
“It still happened. And I’m really sorry.”
“It’s alright. I forgive you. And love you.” Smitty tilted his head up and pressed a kiss against John’s jaw. “C’mon, let’s get a room and call it a night.”
He had to lead John to the room they rented, giggling as John seemed to make as much noise as possible until they got into bed, where they both passed out. John was the first to wake the next morning, groaning at his headache and the weight on his chest. He looked down to find Smitty sleeping on top of him, just like old times, but there was a twist this time around. John glanced at their intertwined hands, the blue gem on the ring Smitty was wearing glinting in the morning light.
John tried to keep from screaming. He had confessed. He confessed to Smitty and judging by how close Smitty was, the other felt the same. He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face as he ran his free hand through Smitty’s hair. He tended to lie, yes, lie a lot. But it was the whole truth when he said he loved Smitty with all his heart.
The other stirred at his touch and yawned, lifting his head up to look at John. At this man who had once been a dumb, stupid, rude little boy that had shoved him into the ocean because he didn't know he couldn't swim. Now he knew everything about him. Smitty smiled softly at the thought.
"What are you smiling about?" John asked.
"I'm smiling over just how much I love you." He leaned in and kissed John slowly, not quite ready to leave the room and face the real world.