Chapter Text
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“Mayday! Mayday!”
Nothing.
“Please, is anyone out there?” The faint words were met with radio silence. The only noise a high pitched whining from what was likely a busted eardrum. Weak and dizzy, blood continued to drip into the water filling the cabin. The once brown floor now covered in pink.
Searing pain, a sinking boat, and all hope lost. There was little to do but wait. Wait for the inevitable. There was nowhere to go, no reason to have hope. Climbing to higher ground had been a struggle, and pointless as the vessel continued to dip lower and lower into the icy water.
That night, prayers went unanswered. The heavens laughed as they flashed their pearly white teeth and the crackle of a thousand laughs filled the air. The rain continued to fall all around.
There was nothing to do but wait until the water finally claimed her prize. Until the sea took it’s claim. Until the world went black.
It was unseasonably hot in Boston. Granted, summertime was hardly a perfect oasis in the northeast on a usual year, but that July had seen it’s hottest temperatures in over sixty years, and the city had been a sweltering mess. The usually pristine buildings along Freedom Trail were littered with blinding metal as each window had suddenly become occupied with ac units overnight. There had even been rolling blackouts as the power company struggled to keep up with the city’s demands.
Why Ariel’s Antiquities had insisted on holding their event outdoors was a mystery to Killian. Women and men dressed in their best, hoping that fancy clothes would somehow insinuate that they had money and could easily out bid their competitors. Unfortunately for them, their power suits became far less intimidating by the minute as sweat lines began to appear sometime just before ten. As the hours drifted on, people became puddles, their shoes sticking to the sidewalks.
Killian found himself near constantly tugging on the collar of his shirt, peeling it away from his sticky skin. Unlike him, his brother had refused to undo the top two buttons on his shirt and seemed even more miserable, if that were somehow possible.
The two men had been sniping at each other for the better part of the morning, and now with the sun at full intensity above them, they’d resorted to silence as they milled their way through lot after lot. The auction advertisement Killian had seen online seemed to have mostly a mishmash of memorabilia and collectables, with a few actual antiquities mixed in.
But unlike the other bidders, the two men weren’t there for random knick knacks. There was one specific item that had caught his eye on the online inventory. A tiny thumbnail the only indication of its existence and he could only hope that it hadn’t been from a previous auction.
For over an hour, Killian traipsed through the old fair grounds, Liam in tow behind him, searching with no luck.
“Killian, I hate to be the one to say this, but it’s not here. We’ve been to every lot and it’s just garbage.” He turned to see his brother giving him a look of pity, infuriating his very being. “Perhaps this is a sign.”
“A sign of what? False advertising?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I just-” Liam took a deep breath, pushing the air out on an audible huff. “I just worry about you.”
With that, all of the anger and frustration from the day left Killian’s body. He couldn’t be mad at Liam any more, not when he knew it was true. When he still had memories of waking in the hospital, of seeing Liam’s eyes red and puffy from tears. It was the first time he’d seen his brother cry since their mother had passed years before.
“Liam, this is something I need to do. I need to prove to myself that I can get back out there. I can’t let this cripple me for the rest of my life.”
His choice of words hadn’t meant to convey the irony, but as his brother glanced down at the metal and leather covering his wrist, Killian couldn’t help but notice the cruelty of the universe. That even the most benign of words could cause such pain, even a year later. How even thinking about that day caused his missing hand to throb in pain.
“Killian, you are one of the strongest people I know. You don’t have anything to prove. Not to me or anyone else.”
Gone were the days where Liam teased him and called him little brother. Now, he was lucky if Liam said anything cheeky around him at all. And while he didn’t have anything to prove to anyone else, the truth was that he needed to show his brother that he wasn’t broken. Not anymore. That he didn’t need to be coddled like a wounded duck.
Before he could respond though, a glimmer caught his eye from a passing bidder’s reflective earrings, causing him to whip his head to the left. And there, tucked behind an old telephone booth, 2 huge entertainment centers, and a large canopy bed, there it was. There she was.
He didn’t wait for his brother, his jogging nearly breaking into a full stride. She was hard to see, tucked away behind items too heavy to move, but even in his limited view he could see that she was battered and bruised. Still, Killian knew that with a little sweat equity, she could be a marvel. He let his hand run down the fiberglass, feeling the strength of the hull, despite the hole in her port side. A gaping wound about the size of a bowling ball.
She was damaged, just as he was, but together they’d mend each other. He was sure of it.
“That’s it? That’s the boat you brought us all the way out here for?” Killian could only smile to himself. “Brother, she’s a mess. Where’s the mainmast? And did you see that hole? There’s no telling what kind of dry rot is on the inside.”
“Yes. I know she’s not much to look at right now, but-”
“No. You can’t be serious. She’s better off torn apart for scraps.”
Killian couldn’t explain to his brother the draw that he felt. He’d been searching auction houses for months. All of the boats he’d seen were either grossly overpriced, or faced the Goldilocks conundrum. Too small. Too big. But this one, it was just right. From the instant he’d seen that tiny thumbnail picture on his laptop screen, he’d felt it deep within his gut. He was meant for that boat, just as she was meant for him.
“And what kind of name is Jewel of the Real?”
“Realm.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s Jewel of the Realm.”
Killian’s hand brushed over the faded wood, tracing the faintest outline of where an ‘M’ used to reside.
The rest of their time there was a bit of a blur for Killian. Liam trying his best to talk him out of buying The Jewel as people threw their paddles up in the air, capturing the trinkets on the stage. Killian fighting with a man two rows ahead of him for the winning bid, going over the maximum price he’d set in his head. Giving the auction house the delivery address, ignoring the way his brother huffed as Killian wrote them a check.
But none of that mattered, because in the end, she was his. The auction house delivered her a few days after his check cleared. The address he’d given them was for a warehouse another expat had told him about. Cheap monthly rates and all of that. What Will Scarlet had neglected to mention was that the warehouse was actually an abandoned building in a rather questionable part of town. Killian never should have trusted the man with a deposit sight unseen. The building lacked windows or doors, and Killian immediately knew he’d been had by the huxter.
He’d scrambled to find another place to fix up the Jewel. The drydocks at the marina were expensive and lacked space for him to spread out with tools, not to mention the absence of privacy while he worked. It was bad enough that people stared at his hook while he was picking up food from the local pub or out with Liam and his wife. He’d be damned if he was going to have people watch him work on a boat one handed. He even considered trying to work out of his friend, Robin’s, garage but the thirty two foot boat simply wouldn’t fit. No matter how imaginative he got with his sketches.
In the end, it was the most unlikely of allies that came to his rescue. The last man he ever expected to aid him with the Jewel. Liam owned a shipping company, specializing in European imports, with English ales and German lagers making up the bulk of his business. The main office was based in downtown Boston, but there was also a small warehouse down by the port where items were stored as they awaited inspection. His brother, still not happy with his decision made him an offer anyway. Come to work at Jones Shipping Monday through Friday, and he’d have the warehouse all to himself in the evenings and on weekends to work on the “abomination.”
Killian accepted begrudgingly. He wasn’t necessarily in need of a salary. He had the monthly stipends from the Navy to live on, the only benefit of losing his left hand, and the idea of becoming a corporate stooge maddened him to no end. He’d already sold his soul once, and they spit him back out once they deemed him of no further use. He wasn’t quite ready to lose the rest of himself to a full time day job pushing paperwork, schmoozing potential clients, and taking orders from Liam. But the perk of Liam’s harbor warehouse was too great to pass up.
So he took the job. He started on a Monday and the boat was delivered on the following Tuesday. Liam had neglected to mention his need for a key, so after driving across town, Killian ended up having to turn around without seeing her. The next day he’d nearly ripped into Liam when he saw him, but seeing three other men in suits sitting in front of Liam’s desk made him rethink his anger. Or at least rethink giving his brother a piece of his mind at work in front of people he’d only ever met at staff parties. He’d already had to deal with stares and questions from a rather bold intern. The stress from his own self-consciousness only amplified his frustration with Liam.
He finally got the key from Liam later that afternoon, along with another gift that he wasn’t particularly fond off. One that actually left him offended. One that he threw back in his brother’s face as he stormed out of his office, not caring one bit what anyone thought of him. Not when his brother obviously thought so little.
He was too upset to even go check on The Jewel at that point, choosing to head to a pub near the harbor instead. The Rusty Anchor was a fan favorite for expats. It’s where he’d met Scarlet, which unfortunately didn’t actually say much about the place. He’d met a few good blokes there as well though, like the bartender Robin. They’d become friends in a grief counseling group. It was mandated for Killian, but optional for the other man who was grieving his wife. Listening to Robin talk at their monthly meetings had helped put Killian’s loss into perspective. Suddenly his missing hand didn’t seem so catastrophic.
Robin had invited him to the pub knowing Killian was new in town with few friends, and the two men had formed a bond in the months since. In a way, he felt closer to the man than he did to Liam. Like he could tell him anything without the brotherly judgment that always radiated from the elder Jones.
After a few pints and a good talk with Robin, Killian had calmed. Liam was still a moron, but that wasn’t on him. And as Robin said, he just had to continue to remind himself that the only reason he was even working for his brother was so that he could fix up the Jewel. As soon as she was sea worthy, he could leave his job without breaking his word to Liam.
In a slightly better mood, he headed a few streets over to the warehouse, ready to take a full inventory of all of the repairs she’d need. The hole in the hull was obvious, as well as new paint all over, and she needed a new mast and sails, but there was always the concern of dry rot. That was the biggest worry. Having to replace every plank of wood and all of the fiberglass on the boat would defeat the entire purpose of restoring her.
Not to mention the difficulties he’d face using his hook. He was more than proficient with it for everyday use after eight months of practice, but some things still tested his limits. As he walked up to the warehouse, thinking about how he’d hoist the sails on without tearing them, he was completely lost in thought, oblivious to the man standing next to his boat. He was more than a little embarrassed by the shriek that escaped from his lips, but upon realizing that it was Liam there waiting for him, his distress turned to anger again. Especially when he saw the box from earlier on a nearby table.
“Killian, before you say anything, it’s not what you think. I never meant to imply-”
“What? That I’m a freak. That I’ll scare away all of the clients?”
“Actually, it was quite the opposite. I got it for you.” Killian looked down, unable to meet his brother’s gaze. “What? You don’t think I see you? The way you shrink in on yourself when you’re out with Elsa and me?”
Liam had him there.
“Look, Killian. I just thought that maybe it would help you to feel more comfortable. I never meant to insinuate anything by it.”
Perhaps he had overreacted. In his mind’s eye, it was just the cherry on top of a horrible year. The whole world judged him. Wasn’t it only a matter of time before his brother saw him as a disfigured beast as well? Except, that wasn’t what happened. He’d made a snap judgement, and thought the worst of Liam in the process.
“You’re right. I... it’s harder than I expected it to be sometimes. I thought,” he had to fight to keep his emotions in check as he remembered those first few weeks in the hospital. How he’d lost more than just his hand. “I thought it would be easier than this.”
“And I’m sorry that I didn’t handle it in a more sensitive way. I think I was just so excited to show it to you that I assumed you’d be just as enthusiastic. Obviously, it’s not all that functional, but it’s remarkably realistic and Elsa and I just thought it would make you more comfortable dealing with clients.”
Killian laughed to himself. A sad little thing. It was very realistic in a way that nauseated him when he first opened the box. Even now, as he walked over to it and lifted the top, he couldn’t help the catch in his throat. The prosthetic hand looked incredibly realistic, right down to the synthetic hair on the back of the silicone. There was a metal clip that popped into place in his arm sleeve and a metal wire that hooked into his shoulder strap, just like with his hook that allowed some slight mobility in the hand. It opened and closed, allowing him to grab objects if he needed to, but it wasn’t nearly as advanced as the mechanical hands he’d seen in the clinic. Although this one probably didn’t cost the same as Liam’s house either like the mechanical ones, which was a plus.
He lifted it from the box, testing the weight of it. It was slightly heavier than his hook, something that would take some getting used to. It was also probably going to end up being longer when all was said and done. Wearing suits might be a problem. He’d have to wait until he got home to check.
Liam, for his part, didn’t seem to want to make it any bigger of a deal than he already had. Instead, he changed the subject back towards The Jewel.
“Do you want the good news or the bad first?”
He’d already had a hard enough day. He didn’t need the bad news at all, much less first.
“The good.”
“Well, she’s not a total loss. I’ve been checking her over, and the bulk of the damage seems to be located here, in the hull where this hole is. The fiberglass is badly splintered around it. I’ve been trying to work out what exactly could have caused it, but aside from an act of Poseidon himself, it makes no sense. Whatever made the hole, it came from the inside of the boat. The furniture inside the cabin is also ruined. Smashed to pieces or rotted away. But the rudder and keel are still in perfect shape.”
Killian leaned in closer, allowing his hand to move along the edges of the hole. Liam was right. The edges was splintered towards the outside of the boat, and the fiberglass around it was all badly cracked. The auction house had sent him home with documents explaining that the ship had been docked at the marina and it had been hit by some object during a storm. They’d clearly been mistaken.
“And the rest of her? What shape does she seem to be in?”
“Well, the wood planks on the deck could use a good sanding, but if you’re just talking about integrity, I think she’ll hold up just fine.” Killian and Liam both climbed the ladder Liam had set up, allowing him his first good look at her. “You know about the mast and roping already. A full redo on both of those. But come look at this!”
Killian followed, letting his hand glide upon the metal railing. For the first time, it felt real. Look at this! It’s the original certificate showing the builder. You realize what this means don’t you?”
“That you’re excited she’s older than you are?”
“No! She’s vintage Killian! Once we fix her up, you can sell her for twice what you paid for her! Well done little brother.”
Killian took a deep breath, already out of patience with his brother for the day.
“Liam, I see three things wrong with what you’ve just said. First, it’s younger brother. Second, when exactly did this become a joint endeavor? Just a week ago you thought the very idea of my purchasing her was the single greatest mistake of my life. Thirdly, and listen closely Liam because I’m not going to say this again, I am not selling this boat.”
“Well you are my little brother. And I’m just trying to protect you. Why do you think I worry and watch after you so much?”
“You don’t need to worry about me!”
“Well apparently I do!” There was something about the way Liam’s voice, the way it broke as he screamed the words that tugged at Killian’s heart. “You almost died! I waited and waited while they searched for your body, sure that there was no way you’d survived that storm. And then I waited and waited again at your bedside in the hospital, praying to God that he didn’t take you away from me like he had mother. So don’t you dare tell me that I can’t or shouldn’t worry about you!”
Killian had to will back the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He knew that Liam had been at his bedside in the hospital, but he had never thought of what it must have been like for him getting the call that his brother was lost at sea in a storm. He spent a great deal of time clinging to some wreckage, just trying to stay afloat as the waves crashed over his head, and his body plummeted over and over for what felt like years. Once the storm had passed, he found a piece of the destroyed ship large enough for him to crawl on top of and he let the exhaustion take over. When he woke again it was to intense agony in the hospital ICU.
“Liam, I’m not out there anymore. I’m not adrift at sea anymore. I’m here, and I’m fine.”
“But you aren’t. You aren’t here. You say you are, but I think a part of you died out there that day, and I-” Liam gave up all pretense of hiding, letting the tears flow free, “I think part of you wants to get lost again. Why else are you so intent of fixing up this boat?”
“That’s what you think? That I want to put in all of this work just to go out and vanish into the ocean? Liam, I’m doing this to prove to myself that I can. Because the idea of going back out there sends a bolt of terror through my spine right to my very core. I need to show myself that it was just a freak accident. To get back up on that proverbial horse.”
Liam said nothing, just walked back down to the stern of the boat and down the ladder, walking straight out of the warehouse, leaving Killian alone with the guilt of everything he’d put his brother through. Even as children he was always managing to get into trouble, and poor Liam had always been the one to pick up after him. As he heard Liam’s car start up from the open warehouse door, he couldn’t help but wonder how much more Liam had left in him.
If it weren’t for the fact that he had work at eight in the morning, he very likely would have found himself back at Robin’s, downing a full bottle of rum all on his own. As it stood, he had a debt to Liam, far more than for the agreement he’d made for the warehouse space. He owed his brother everything, and though he couldn’t give Liam the one thing he wanted most, he could give him everything else. He could be the prodigal son in a way. Arrive to work everyday in nice clothes, rubbing elbows with Boston’s elite.
So instead of heading back to Robin’s he went down into the ship’s cabin. The space was small, not that he expected much. The boat was only thirty two feet long, and not that tall. There was enough space for a small kitchenette with a tiny sink and grill top. Across from that stood what should have been a small dinette area. Where a table and bench seat should have been was nothing but wood scraps and moldy torn fabric.
He nearly gagged when he opened the door to the tiny lavatory. The toilet was covered in black mold, or what he hoped was mold as nothing else seemed like an attractive option. And then he went to the bedroom area up at the front of the boat. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect, knowing that the hole was in that area. What he found was nothing though. The bed and mattress had been removed, as well as the padding in the seat next to it. The wood forming the cabinets and closet had been torn out as well, leaving behind only the impressions of where they once fit in.
It was evident that the Jewel needed work when he bought her. And he knew that had he known at the time just how much work she needed at the auction house, he likely still would have bought her. But as he stood there, in the torn apart interior, he couldn’t help but feel scammed by Ariel’s Antiquities. They’d purposefully positioned her in a way that no one could see just what shape she was truly in.
Repairing her would take longer than anticipated, which only meant more time working for Liam. Exhausted, Killia headed back to his one bedroom apartment, crashing nearly the moment his head hit the pillow. The next morning, he rose well before the sun, even without the use of an alarm. Apparently you could take the man out of the navy, but not the navy out of the man.
After a nice run, Killian readied himself for the day by showering. Once dry, Killian placed his sleeve over his stump, followed by the hook he’d become so used to. He then picked out one of his better suits, not that he had all that many to choose from, dressed, combed his hair, and stepped back to take stock of himself in the mirror. It wasn’t a look he was used to. In fact, the last time he’d been dressed in such a way had been his mother’s funeral. He was still a teenager, Liam barely an adult himself, wearing suits they hadn’t yet grown in to.
Not wishing to dwell on that thought any longer, he headed for the door, grabbing his keys from the bowl on the side table.
And that’s when he saw it. The gift that Liam had given him the day before. His brother had left it in the warehouse in his haste to escape, and Killian had grabbed it on his way out, still not sure how he felt about it. He’d never really intended to wear it, not for everyday office use at least, but as he stood there in his suit, feeling completely uncomfortable and out of place, he decided to, just for once, do something for Liam.
It took him a few minutes to undress, removing his suit jacket and dress shirt so that he could disconnect his hook from the shoulder strap. The hand felt clunky on his arm, and it was difficult to get it through his sleeves, but in time he managed.
The drive to Liam’s, and now his office, wasn’t a long one, but at seven in the morning, it may as well have been a full county away. The traffic was horrible, not something he’d become accustomed to driving in. He’d always avoided rush hour like the plague, and now it would be a part of his daily routine. He also found that the hand was difficult to use. Because of his sitting position, it wouldn’t quite clamp shut around the steering wheel the way his hook would have.
By the time he arrived, he was over ten minutes late, and the morning staff meeting had already started. He did his best to sneak in, sitting at the back of the room, hoping to go unnoticed by Liam, but because the world was already against him that day, he failed.
Liam called him up to the front of the room, officially introducing him to everyone as the new head of client relations. Killian gave an awkward wave and that was it. He’d been inducted into the company, and day after day, week after week, he sat at a desk, working up contracts, researching possible leads. His nights were often spent at dinners, flirting with wives and schmoozing husbands into signing with Liam’s company. He hated it, and more still, he hated how little time he had for repairs on the Jewel.
Repairing the hull had been easy. He sent off for a patch kit, a misleading name considering the size of the hole to be touched up. After carefully cutting away the excess damaged fiberglass and setting the patch in place, he waited for the epoxy to harden, sanding down the excess so it was smooth. Aside from the lack of paint, she looked good as new. The hardest part had been placing everything where it needed to go with just one hand.
He soon realized just how difficult repairing the rest of the boat would be. The entryway to the Jewel was narrow, hardly wide enough for one person to enter at a time. He’d never be able to get fully assembled furniture and cabinets in. So slowly, he brought in all of the material, piece by piece. It took time, considering he’d had to carry all of the materials from the parking lot down the dock, and onto the ship. It was exhausting work, and there was still the matter of assembly. It took him weeks to get everything cut just to size, and assembly space had become a real issue after the new bench and table had been installed. Finding a place to store the cabinetry wood had almost broken him. The boat had almost broken him.
But he persevered. Slowly the cabinets came together. The bedroom in the bow of the boat found itself with a bed and a small closet, and the bathroom got a shiny new toilet. After two months, he’d finally finished the interior of the boat. All that stood in his way from land and sea was a new mast, the part Killian had been dreading most.
It was the very first thing Killian had ordered after he’d purchased The Jewel, but as with any special order, it had taken over a month to arrive, and then when it did, it wasn’t even the right size. He and Robin had spent the better part of a day trying to make it work, to somehow force the new mast into place, huffing and puffing at the weight. Hours later, Killian finally admitted defeat, and with shaky arms sent the company a firmly worded email chastising them for their incompetence.
Two full months and one paint job later, a new one arrived. Robin was unable to help him again though. Setting his pride aside, Killian was forced to ask for help. He and his brother’s relationship had soured. It wasn’t that there was ill will between the brothers, but there was a small bit of resentment on Killian’s part. Sometimes it seemed as if Liam was giving him extra work and setting extra meetings for the sole purpose of stalling his repairs. Some of the clients that Liam set him up with were too small to even have shipping needs.
We just want to make sure that they keep us in mind incase the expand Killian. You have to always be selling Killian. It’s called networking Killian.
He’d had enough. Eventually he’d declined enough of Liam’s offers to spend time together on the weekends that Liam had stopped inviting him over. The brothers discussed business needs, but outside of the office, they may aswell have not even have been related. Killian did feel bad. His brother was the only family he had left after all, but there was just the matter of his pride. He’d had so many arguments with Liam in his mind that he couldn’t remember which conversations were real, and which were made up. He just knew that he was right in all of them.
Which is why it was so hard for him to turn to Liam for his help. Unfortunately, the mast weighed a few hundred pounds and while the dock, where the boat finally resided, had a crane to help them move it in place, someone still needed to help him slide it into place and hold it steady as he secured it to the boat. The dock had a firm policy on not helping with certain repairs. They didn’t want to be held liable for any damages or injuries that occurred as a result of human error.
Asking Liam for help had been hard. It took him full two days of building up the courage. He’d nearly walked into Liam’s office three times before turning around at the last minute. Finally, he just had to man up. To his surprise, Liam agreed without much opinion on the matter, and that weekend the two brothers finally made up as they struggled together to install the mast. They tried seating it in place, but despite their best efforts, it was slightly off, leaning just a degree or two. While most people might have shrugged it off, both of the Jones boys were determined to get it in straight.
To the chagrin of the crane worker, they demanded he raise it back up so they could check to make sure the surface was level. Nothing seemed off to the naked eye, but again, the mast wouldn’t sit straight. After one final raising, Killian stuck his hand in the seat, trying to feel if there was bubbling or warping in the wood, and to his surprise, he felt something cold and smoothe, not at all like the wood plank he’d expected. After some fiddling, he was able to loosen the object enough to pull it from its hiding place. It was small, so small he wasn’t surprised that anyone at the auction house had missed it.
Liam, for his part hadn’t said much, but Killian could tell by the way Liam was breathing that his brother was annoyed, not with him but with the delay, and ready to finish working. Killian threw the gold piece in his pocket and together, he and Liam finished installing the mast and all of the rigging lines. Afterwards they went for drinks at Robin’s bar, a place Liam had never been before. They shared a few beers, caught up on all of the things they’d missed in the past few months, and each departed like it was no big deal, both ready for a good night’s sleep.
Killian had hoped to crawl into bed and fall straight asleep, but for some reason, as he laid there, his brain seemed to kick into overdrive. It started with thoughts of how he’d have to map out the currents and winds in the boston area before he could ship out. Before long though, all he could think about was work. He’d planned on leaving Liam’s company as soon as he was done, and while he hated some aspects of the job, he did like the structure it provided him with. It forced him to get back into the world again, something he hadn’t realized that he needed to do until Liam tricked him into it.
Unable to sleep, Killian got up to clean, something that usually relaxed him. He started with the dishes, washing and drying them all by hand before moving on to tend to his laundry. Most of his suit items were dry clean only, but his weekend clothes were soaked with sweat and best washed sooner rather than later. Checking all of the pockets and making sure everything was right-side out, he threw items in the washer one by one until he got to the jeans he’d been wearing that day. He’d managed to completely forget about the trinket he’d found on the boat, until just then.
He finished sorting his clothes and started the machine up before heading back into his bedroom, turning on the nightstand table lamp as he crawled back under the sheets. He let the metal turn in his fingers, inspecting the perfectly polished gold. It was a small locket with a bird etched onto one side. There wasn’t an engraving to go with it and told him nothing about the person who’d lost it. The chain that it was attached to was short and the links where tiny, meaning it likely belonged to a woman, but that was all he was able to gather. He continued to turn the locket, just feeling the weight of it in his hand, the surprising warmth of it, when his finger caught on a hidden clasp and the locket snapped open.
It wasn’t what he’d expected. Most women’s lockets contained tiny photographs, but the inside of this one held a small compass. The opposite side featured an engraving, but it didn’t have any names. It simple read: So you always find your way.
He should have wanted to search for the owner, to return what was probably a meaningful gift. There were plenty of news stories all the time about people helping to reunite lost items and owners. The soldier who had his purple heart stolen. The bride that lost her wedding ring on a beach vacation. They were always happy endings, and he knew that the locket didn’t belong to him, but for some reason, he just felt a call to it. Like he also needed it to help him find his way. So he kept it, slipping it on over his own head, having to pull it past his ears. He fell fast asleep soon after.
The next week at work had been grueling. Liam had lined up three dinners for him, one of them with a very sexually aggressive woman that ran a dog breeding company. Apparently there was a high demand for designer dogs and people were willing to pay high prices to have them shipped over the water during the summer and winter seasons when airlines restricted their pet travel policies. He’d had to pry her off of him at the end of the evening, promising he’d call her soon. A complete lie.
The whole encounter had left him feeling dirty. He hadn’t even so much as looked at a woman since his accident, not really, and he just wasn’t ready to move forward in a romantic capacity, even just a physical one. Not after having his heart shattered before. The woman in question wasn’t even interested in him. Not as anything more than a gigalo.
The weekend couldn’t have arrived fast enough. He just needed to get out of town. To get away from everyone, from his responsibilities. He was ready to hit the water and shed the ghosts he carried around with him. He’d planned meticulously. There were charts filling half of his closet and he’d popped by the Tuesday before to fill the kitchenette with snacks for his inaugural trip. He didn’t have a refrigerator yet so he’d done his best to stick with ready to assemble meals. Nothing big, just some bread and jams. A few tea bags and bottled water in case it got cold out on the water.
The plan had been to set sail just as the sun was rising that Saturday. To greet the new day on the water, but for some reason his alarm hadn’t sounded that morning, and for the first time since he’d joined the navy, he overslept. By the time he made it down to the docks it was just after ten, and the area was filled with people. Families going out on day trips. Tour groups trying to enjoy the last few weeks before the winter season. Before everyone would have to winterize their boats and leave them stored away until spring.
He was lost in his thoughts as he walked along the wood planks at the docks, past other ships, nearly tripping on a rope that someone has carelessly left out. Cursing under his breath, collecting himself from the slight embarrassment of it all, he glanced back at The Jewel. It was hard to see with the sun reflecting back on the water, but for just a few seconds, he could have sworn that he saw a shadow moving along her port side. There was a person on his boat.
It wasn’t unheard of, finding a vagrant living on an unused boat, or some random person lost and on the wrong ship. The Jewel had a very specific and unique paint job though. Mistaking her for any other vessel on the harbor would have been impossible. And he’d been there only a few nights before. He would have seen signs of a stowaway using her for shelter.
That could only mean that whoever was aboard his boat was looking for trouble, and after the morning he’d had, he was more than willing to give it to them. Swearing to himself, he picked up his pace, ready to give the trespasser a piece of his mind, but when he finally made it to The Jewel, she was empty. Thinking perhaps they’d gone below deck, he crept down the narrow stairs, doing his best to avoid making noise. There was no one though. She was empty. Just a trick of the mind.
Feeling foolish, Killian reemerged, on the deck, ready to give all of the lines one final check before setting sail when he heard a noise, a creaky wooden plank from down below. This time he ran, not giving a damn if the person knew he was coming or not. He was ready to find whoever was hiding.
Once again though, he came up empty. Even after searching in all of the cupboards and storage spaces under the kitchen bench and his bed. He checked all of the closets, but there was no one. He was all alone.
It was just in his head. Not surprising considering what a huge step he was about to take. The idea of going back on the water leaving him with an uneasy queasy feeling in his gut. Which was also the exact reason that he needed to do it. Why he’d tried to stress to Liam the importance of buying The Jewel.
He needed to conquer his fear. Even if his brain tried to scare him out of it. Because that’s all it was. A shadow from a person on a boat near his. An old creaky boat groaning from the change in humidity. It was all in his head, and it needed to stay there.
More determined than ever, Killian went back upstairs, ready to set sail, distraction free, but when he emerged from the cabin, he was met once again with an odd sensation. A feeling of being watched.
“Permission to come aboard?”
“Bloody hell, Liam? How long have you been here?”
“Not long.”
And there it was. His older brother, his protector, playing games with his head to place doubt. Liam had done more than his fair share of things to delay the boat becoming ready, but to actually try to scare him away was just too much.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“Come again now?”
“I’m talking about you playing games with my head, trying to frighten me away from taking my boat out. You’ve made it very clear that this wasn’t something you wanted me to do, but this is a new form of low, Laim.”
He was furious.
“Killian, I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve only just arrived.”
He watched the elder Jones, the way his brow furrowed. Liam may have been a great many things to Killian, but he’d never known his brother as a liar.
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I’ve actually come bearing a gift.”
It was only then that Killian noticed the neatly wrapped bundle in Liam’s left hand. Liam didn’t ask permission again, choosing to come aboard The Jewel to hand the gift to Killian. He felt more than a little guilty for accepting it, especially after having just yelled at his brother, but Liam was insistent.
Carefully he peeled back the wrapping paper, careful not to tear it, lest he find paper scraps for weeks to come blown into every nook and cranky. Inside, he found a book, an old one by the look of it.
“It’s a first edition. Took some time to track down or I would have had it to you sooner.”
The significance of Liam’s thoughtfulness was evident. It was a first edition of Peter Pan. The book their mother used to read to them nightly. Each time she finished, Killian would beg her to start again from the beginning. It was the thing that first ignited his love for the sea.
“Thank you, Liam. This means more than you know.”
Liam just gave him a nod, understanding the emotional weight they both held in that moment.
“I, uh, guess you haven’t checked the stern of the boat just yet?”
It was on his list. First the ropes, then a walk around above deck to ensure everything was properly secured, before walking around the dock to check that everything was good on the exterior.
Intrigued, Killian climbed down from the boat and walked around to the back side of The Jewel. But what he found was that she’d been renamed.
“The Jolly Roger?”
“I very specifically remember you telling mum and me that when you grew up, you were going to own a huge ship, and you were going to name her The Jolly Roger-”
“Just like Captain Hook.”
He’d completely forgotten. As a small eight year old, he was determined that one day he’d own a pirate ship. That he’d sail the seven seas taking whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted. Probably in part because he was sick of getting Liam’s hand me downs.
“I hope you don’t mind. I know she’s not exactly what child Killian had in mind, but you’ve done exactly what you said you were going to do. And I know I’ve been a prick about this entire thing, so I wanted to do something to make up for it. To show you that I really am in your corner.”
Killian was touched. It was possibly the first time his brother had apologized to him since before their mother died. Even then, it was probably the first time he’d ever done it without being scolded into it.
“Thank you, brother.”
There’s one final thing. Last night, Robin and I came out here and installed a motor on the back.” Killian was about to say something, but Liam barreled on. “I know. But I just want to keep you safe. If you should find yourself without wind, you’ll still have a way to get back to shore.”
“Marvelous.” His annoyance only slightly tempered by Liam’s attempt at a kind gesture.
From his inside coat pocket, Liam produced a manual for the motor. ‘A guide to your new Stern Mounted Electronic Engine.’ He had to give it to Liam. He’d thought of everything. Even a Mr. SMEE.
Together, he and Liam set about getting The Jolly ready. After checking everything over twice, they finally set out, both men trying not to hold their breath as the docks become smaller and smaller. After about thirty minutes, they were able to relax, realizing that the ship hadn’t yet sunk, and likely wouldn’t anytime soon.
The trip was relaxing for the most part. The brothers argued still, as Killian realized that Liam had completely rearranged all of the food in the kitchenette. It wasn’t surprising and he’d seen Liam do it at his house, whenever Elsa would just quickly throw things back in the pantry. But what did shock him was how Liam adamantly denied it, even though Killian knew he’d left the tea bags in the cupboard above the tiny stove top, not under the sink. And the chips had been moved as well as other items. Still though, Liam swore he hadn’t touched them.
Killian eventually let it go, finding it not worth bickering over anymore than they already had. The real fist-to-cuffs came at the end of the day, as the two men had already redocked and were setting the boat back to rights. Liam had grabbed the trash and told Killian that he was going to take it all to the dumpster in the parking lot while Killian secured all of the sails.
Liam couldn’t have been gone for more than a minute when Killian stood to turn and move on to the other sail when he slipped and fell flat on his back. It hurt more than he wanted to admit, and in his haste to stop himself from falling, he’d somehow managed to catch his hook in the jib sail, tearing it as he fell.
Killian took a moment to compose himself, waiting for the sting of hitting his back on the rail to subside. He must have taken longer than he realized, because by the time he sat back up he heard Liam call his name and scramble across the boat to check on him.
Killian assured him that he was fine, or that he would be as Liam helped him back up. Careful of his steps, he turned to see just what exactly he’d slipped on when he caught sight of small water puddles in the shape of shoe prints. Absolutely sure that Liam had made them somehow, the two brothers had it out, causing Liam to storm away in a huff once more.
Killian stayed long enough to dry all of the water and to watch the sunset over the horizon before heading back to his place to grab a much needed ice pack. His back was still sore two hours later, so he opted for a shower instead hoping that the warm water might help soothe the muscles.
Slowly he undressed, trying not to twist or bend too much. Catching just a glimpse of himself in the mirror are he removed the small gold locket he’d found, he caught sight of his red cheeks, realising that even in October, he’d still managed to get a bit too much sun.
Getting to sleep had been tough. It was only after a glass or two, or three of rum that he was able to find a comfortable position. He drifted off, dreaming of being a child again. Of Neverland and Captain Hook.
The next morning he was still quite sore, so he’d opted not to take a second trip out on the water. Instead, he’d spend the day shopping for groceries and flicking through television programs until he settled on Wicked Tuna. Before he knew it, it was time to ready himself for bed and another dreaded week at work.
It ended up not being as bad of a week as he expected it to be. Liam hadn’t scheduled any meetings for him outside of normal office hours, and the clients that came into the office to settle contracts all seemed relatively normal for once. The brothers had quazied made up, but both felt it was best if Liam didn’t go out with Killian again for a while.
By the time the next weekend came, Killian was eager to set sail again, alone. No distractions. No mind games. Just him and The Jolly. Unable to hide the gold chain under his work shirt, Killian had chosen to leave the compass at home all week, but slid it back over his head before getting in his car to drive down to the water.
For a few moments he worried that his plans would be dashed as his car had refused to turn on. The starter trying to turn over and failing. Finally though, he got her started and headed straight for the docks.
He went through his usual routine, checking everything over, checking the weather once more. It was a little windier than he would have preferred, but the local station said that the wind would die down a bit by mid day. With everything ready, he set out, heading up the coast line just a bit.
The wind stayed stead for nearly four hours, despite the weather stations promise, and at one point, his life preserver ring had managed to come loose and blow straight off the ship. Not wanting to waste sixty dollars on a new one, he turned into the wind, stalling the boat, and dove dove in after it. A foolish endeavour on his part, considering he was alone if anything had gone wrong, but he figured if he could just get to the ring, he’d be fine.
The water was colder than he’d expected. In the navy he’d done cold water drills, letting his body adapt to it. But it had been a year, and his body simply wasn’t used to it yet. The moment he hit the water, his leg cramped up, and for just a second, he sunk under the surface of the water as he grabbed at his leg. When he resurfaced, it was with a mouth full of salt water. His nose burned and his eyes stung.
Once he managed to make it to the preserver, he tried wiping his eyes, but it only made things worse. Looking around to see just how far he was from The Jolly, his eyes had difficulty focusing. Everything became blurry as it felt like he’d had sandpaper rubbed against his cornea. At one point, it looked as if there was a figure standing at the bow of the boat. An impossibility given how far out he was and the lack of other boats.
He closed his eyes, giving them a few minutes to calm down, and when he reopened them, the figure was gone, and The Jolly was more in focus. Killian managed to swim back to the boat, a freezing mess in his wet clothes. He hadn’t actually thought about bringing a change of clothes with him for such a short journey. He stood there on the deck a shivering mess, ready to give up on the day.
As he tried to turn the wheel he began to feel slightly warmer. The wind had finally died down just as local weather woman Alfina Merryweather had promised, except that Merriweather had neglected to mention that her version of a slight breeze was actually a dead stop.
There was nothing, not even the slightest hint of movement. He waited and waited, at one point removing his clothes and doing his best to squeeze as much water out as he could. He thought of Liam, of how his brother would probably be worried if he didn’t hear from him soon. Thoughts that eventually reminded him of the motor his brother had installed for just such an occasion. The motor that Killian never wanted, and certainly wasn’t going to admit to using.
It took him forty two minutes to read the manuel enough to understand what he was doing, the whole thing one long novel of gibberish. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried, and how many times he went through the manuel again, twenty minutes later he was just as stuck as before.
After another thirty minutes of attempting to start it and pretending that hyperthermia wasn’t a real threat, he finally caved, ready to call for help over the radio to a towing company. But the radio was just as dead as SMEE, and all of his calls for help were met with static. He began to worry, checking his phone to see the time only to realize that his phone was dead as well. He continued to plea for assistance, the static only becoming louder, eventually there was a spark as he felt a strange nasty shock from the microphone
He jumped back, yelling every curse word he could think of until he was nearly hoarse. Just as he’d quieted, shaking out his hand, he’d heard it. A creaky noise coming from above deck, The same sound he’d heard on his first day out. The sound of boards buckling under the weight of a person. He was sure of it this time, unless the jolt had managed to shock his brain too.
Slowly he crept back up the stairs, feeling every hair raise along his arm as he went. Something felt off. Something just felt very very wrong. But he persisted still, opening the door as quietly as possible. He crept along the deck, treading lightly as not to make any noise. As he moved high enough to see the front of the boat, he noticed a figure. An eerie ethereal blur of a woman.
But before he could say anything she turned and looked right at him. He watched her for a moment, as she seemed to float above the bow of the boat, somehow both there and not quite real. And then her mouth opened, and with the anguished scream of a hundred voices at once, she yelled at him to get out.
He nearly fell as he scrambled backwards, feeling his heart in his throat, trying to leap clear from his body. And just as quickly as she appeared, she was gone. He was paralyzed in fear, completely unable to move when he heard the boat’s engine spring to life, snapping him out of his trance.