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Gillion stared wistfully out onto the open water, damp hair fallen in front of his face. The waves of the ocean slid up the shore, barely grasping the tips of the triton’s toes. It smelled like salt and fish urine, heavy with the lull of decomposing plant-life on the shore. Clouds loomed over top, creating a mellow cast over the sea and those who lurk nearby. It felt somewhat dreary, but the lax atmosphere of this dulcet ocean soothed Gillion’s aching chest.
He gripped his undershirt, tightening his grasp over the place his heart rests. Although an agonizing pain, such hurt wasn’t caused by a corporeal wound. His chest was sore from the remembrance of what happened earlier this day, and what he would have to accomplish to fix the mess he had made. To fix how horrid of a friend he had been.
The grip on his shirt became tauter as his brain filed through the memories.
Sitting with Jay on the floor of the captains shared bedroom, her cot pungent with the smell of sweat and dirt. Her hair was a matted mess, orange curls poking out of her head in ways that seemed to defy gravity. It was attempted to tame with a small wooden comb that snapped meekly in the process, the remnants of such lay stuck to her scalp. She wore clothes that she hadn’t changed in days, smelling faintly of blood from their previous heroic encounters, and sweat that continued to bead down from her forehead.
Gillion sat beside her, hand rubbing slow circles into the poor girl’s back. Her hands were gripped violently at her scalp, ripping curls from her head and sending Gillion into a more panicked state of worry. He reached up quicky to her palms, grasping them within his own and attempting to pull them gently from her head. He did not wish for her to harm herself, she needed rest.
He felt her hands tense at his touch, and her breathing picked up quickly. He sensed the anxiety struck within her at the sudden change, and swiftly pulled his hands away.
“Get away from me, Gill.”
The words fell out of her mouth with an alarming fire, red teary eyes glaring up at the triton. Her pupils were freakishly large, dilated from the spike of adrenaline that was coursing through her body. Her eyebrows borrowing downwards, giving the usually affectionate jay a look of true malice and ill control.
“Jay, you can talk to me-“
“No I can’t Gill. You don’t understand, you won’t understand.” Tears fell faster down her face, “stop pretending you’ll understand gill. Leave. Go away.”
Gillion stood up from his seat, shooting Jay a final look of fret before walking dejectedly out the door. He heard a worrisome coo from Pretzel, feeling the bottle wiggle helplessly at his hip, yet chose to ignore it.
Gill shook his head, forcing the echo down to the throat of his mind. He felt horrid at how he had tried to help Jay, how terribly he had read the situation. He never wished to harm her, or make her more afraid, and he felt that in his attempt to help he only made Jay’s condition worse. His hands floated to the top of his head, gripping it in a similar manner that Jay had done to herself. If she had put herself through such pain, Gillion must do the same, as he had failed to help her.
Tears welled in his eyes, he gripped harder. Ripping at his hair until it began to pull itself painfully from his scalp. His head seemed to screech in pain, as he used every ounce of his strength to slowly and wretchedly tug at his hair. Tears spilled down his face from the pain of his crown and the similar pain clawing at his heart. Guilt and regret gripped him like a lonely child, pulling him further and further from a sense of grounding.
As he harmed himself in the same way his friend had herself, he felt another memory seep into his brain. One also from earlier today, An hour or so after the incident with Jay. This time, she was nowhere to be found. In her place, was Chip.
Gill watched as Chip sat on the front of the Albatross, legs tucked into his chest and head burrowed into his knees. He was rocking back and forth, gripping a shimmering golden coin in his palm. His clothes and hair were soaked in sea water, a trail of wet wood from where he sat starting from the side of the boat. Gillion walked quietly up, sitting down next to the frightened Chip. Sitting for a moment, he took note of how Chip fiddled with the coin in his hand. He was mumbling incoherencies under his breath, words that Gill failed to make out with how quickly and quietly they were said. Although not crying, Chip was in a negative state that Gill couldn’t quite place. It was similar to how he wishes he could act when reminded of how he was banished from the undersea, but a way he never could in order to keep up his act of stability and heroism. So as his brain pondered, Gill assumed tritons were better at shielding their reactions and emotions than humans were, but sadly that didn’t solve his problem of being unknowing of how to help.
At closer inspection, Gill noticed Chip’s unoccupied hand digging fingernails into his wrist. They were dug in without much of a setback, blood beginning to pool around the entrances to newfound wounds. Chip caught his breath at the pain, something which Gill heard as a sharp and whistly inhale. Uneasily aware of the pain Chip was causing himself, Gill decided to speak up.
“Chip, what has happened…?” The words were soft and gentle in an attempt of comfort. He raised his hand and pressed his palm reassuringly into Chip’s shaking shoulder.
In response, Chip dug his nails deeper into his wrist and shoved his face further into his knees, his grip around the coin growing tighter.
“Chip…” Gillion rubbed his friends shoulder gingerly with his thumb, making soft circles that seemed to ease Chip’s fast-paced breaths. His shirt was soaked, dripping with water that pooled around where he sat.
Chip once more dug his nails deeper and harsher into his wrist. The bits of blood were beginning to fall now, slowly dripping down the captain’s forearm. Gillion sucked in a breath. It was one thing to see his friends be hurt in the midst of battle, but another to see them purposefully hurt themselves.
Gill began to chew his lip. He wanted desperately to take Chip’s hand from his wrist, pull it away and hold it tenderly between his palms where chip could no longer harm himself.
But the memories of what happened little over an hour earlier, haunted Gill like a sickly ghost.
He found himself unable to do much of anything but sit there and rub circles into Chip’s shoulder. He scolded himself in his brain, angry and confused as to why he could not bring himself to take Chip’s hands from his wrist. Befuddled and burning with uncertainty, Gillion did nothing. Because of his cowardice, Chip continued to harm himself. Chip continued to have his own blood pour from his skin, because Gill had let his emotions control him.
Gillion shook himself out of the consumption that the memory had on him. He found himself back on the shore of the beach, sand pushed around his feet and hands still buried in his scalp. He felt tears streaming uncontrollably down his face, forcing him to sniffle as snot began to slip out his nose. He hated being vulnerable. He hated sitting here indulging in his own selfish emotions, when his friends could be hurting.
A cough escaped his lips, one that was supposed to be some semblance of a laugh. Even if his friends were hurting, how could he ever truly help them? He never did anything right, he bet that his fellow captains didn’t even want him around anyway.
Gillion pulled his hands from his scalp and stared intently at his forearm. With angered determination, he plunged his sharp triton nails into the same spot that Chip had harmed himself. The sudden intensity of it made Gill gasp, clenching his teeth in a foolish attempt to shut himself up.
If he had caused his friends pain, he must suffer the consequences. He must feel what they felt, feel what he failed to stop.
His nails dug deeper, blood pooling faster than Gill thought it would.
This was his fault. He needed to atone.
He tried not to make any pitiful squeaks of pain as he kept his nails deep into the flesh of his arm. His instincts wanted him to stop, but his brain forced him to continue.
He must atone.
He must pay the price of his failures.
He must-
“Gill? Gillion!”
A familiar voice yelled in his ear, a frightful panic leeching on the words.
Gill blinked, his eyes adjusting to the reality he was sitting in. He felt his body shaking, not just from the nerves, but from someone grasping his left shoulder to push him forward and back.
“Gill, answer me! What the fuck is happening!”
Gill blinked yet again, his brain connecting back into the world around him. He was on the shore of the beach, the clouds beginning to cry and sprinkle. Sand was consuming his knees. When did he fall on his knees…?
He looked upwards from the ground, turning his head to the sound of the voice. His breath rose and fell quickly in beat with the raindrops that fell to the ground. His body noticeably more wet than usual. The source of the voice adjusted in his vision quickly, and Gill felt himself catch his breath. Chip was to his left, hands gripping his shoulder and shaking him violently. Jay was kneeled behind him, a look of worry painted on her face.
Chip let out a breath when he noticed Gill finally make connection back with reality, his eyes connecting with those of his fellow captain.
“Chip.” Gill mumbled the name, the bitter taste of guilt still ripe on his tounge. He looked slightly to the right, “Jay.” This name felt no better, shame and regret gripping his throat.
“Fuck you, man,” Chip choked out the words, tackling Gill into a tight hug. “What the fuck happened? You weren’t responding, you just sat there, you just…” Chip glanced down to the arm that Gill had consciously tucked away, “just…”
Jay stepped in before Chip had the chance to finish his words, quickly joining the hug by wrapping her arms around the both of her friends. She sniffled, face digging into Gill’s hair, the top of which ruffled and ripped.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.” She muttered into the back of his head, “I don’t know what came over me. You would’ve understood better than anybody what was affecting me, I’m sorry. Im so sorry.” Her grip on the two tightened.
Gill felt himself wince, he never meant to make these two feel so bad. He never meant for them to find him like this. How did he not hear them? Was he deaf?
“Please, do not apologize Jay. I should be the one apologizing, to both of you.”
The heads of his crewmates peeked upward, eyebrows furrowed, confusion drawn on their faces as plain as day. Gill shifted to a more comfortable position in the hug before continuing,
“I am sorry Jay, for trying to take your hands off your head when you were in a vulnerable state of mind. I should have known how to handle that better, I made you upset. I hurt you. I am so sorry.”
Gill’s head fell slightly, continuing before Jay could even attempt to form a response.
“And Chip, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have just sat there and watched as you put yourself through such pain,” Chip tensed, and Gill shoved his hand further into his crossed arms, “I should have done something. Instead, I sat there and waited. I hurt you. I am so sorry.”
Silence stretched for what felt like eons to the triton. He didn’t wish for a response, he knew an apology wouldn’t fix the hurt he had caused.
Chip spoke up first, looking upwards from his hug and making gentle eye contact with Gillion, cracking a small smile.
“Gill, you don’t have to apologize to me,” Chip began, followed by a quiet nod from Jay, “It’s not like it’s your responsibility to know exactly how to help me. Besides, you being there was enough help. I wanted to find you, to thank you for being there but…” Chip’s smile turned moreso into a frown, “I couldn’t find you, and neither could Jay”
Jay moved an arm to rub Chip’s back. “He’s right, Gill. You have so much on your plate, we all do, and us being there for each other doesn’t entail knowing step by step how to fix each other’s problems.” She also moved her head, shifting to look Gillion in the eyes as Chip did. “You don’t have to fix our problems to be the most wonderful friend we could’ve asked for, Gill. You have nothing to apologize for, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Jay moved her other hand, rubbing circles onto Gill’s head. “You are enough.”
Gill felt himself began to cry again, this time an ugly bawling sob. Their words meant more to him than he could ever explain, how much they cared for him and appreciated his companionship. He felt the same towards them, and he knew that if one of his friends were acting as he would, he wouldn’t have blamed them or thought they did anything wrong. So why should he be any different?
Chip slowly grabbed Gill’s arm and pulled it into view. He made a furrowed face, violently ripping a sleeve off his shirt. The action surprised Gill, didn’t they have bandages back on the ship?
But before he could object, Gillion’s wounded arm was wrapped in the sleeve from Chip’s now ruined top. Tying it off, Chip smirked.
“Perfect. That should hold.”
Jay glanced over, chuckling,
“Chip… Don’t we have bandages on the ship? Why did you rip your shirt sleeve?” her hair bounced in rhythm with her laugh.
“Makes my shirt look cool. Besides, I don’t wanna walk all the way to the ship and back for a simple bandage.” He flexed his newly freed upperarm, showing a mild indent of muscle.
Gill sighed into a smile. His friends meant the world to him, and he would give anything to see them smile like this. To see them laugh, even when the mood was dreary. He stared warmly at them both, letting himself bathe in the knowledge that they were okay. That he was good enough.
“Thank you”
Chip and Jay both became silent, looking down towards Gill as he said those two words. It stayed still for a moment, the air, as Gillion awaited some sort of response.
“For what, exactly?” Jay was the first to speak, soft enough to lull a bird to rest. She looked sincere and gentle, an opposite deminer from her teasing of Chip just a few moments earlier.
Gill shook his head, chuckling quietly.
“For everything.”