Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dream sat close to the window, depending on the occasional passing of the lighthouse beam to see the paper in front of him. Each time the rhythmic light filled the small guest room, he stared at the writing, as if the ink might suddenly change its mind and rearrange on the page. It wasn’t his first time seeing a wanted poster. Far from it; he’d grown up in the company of criminals, grown accustomed to seeing bounties announced on friends and family. But if you’d combined all the coin offered for every criminal sought for dead and alive, it wouldn’t scratch the surface of the reward printed at the bottom of that page.

For the mysterious captain of the infamous pirate ship ‘Spirit of Adventure’, an award of thirty million gold. Wanted dead or alive for high treason and piracy. Capital punishment.

It was enough gold to buy a fleet of ships, a small island, maybe even a castle. It was practically a king’s ransom. All up and down the coast, even foreigners would be eager to chase down such a bounty.

When someone knocked at the door, Dream flinched like it’d been a gunshot. He forced himself to take a deep breath. Sandberg Cove was safe. It was home, or the closest thing to home dry land could be. “Foolish?” He asked the closed door warily. “That you?”

The door creaked open, and Foolish leaned into the guest room, holding a small lantern in one hand. He offered Dream a smile, albeit brief and strained, ducking below the doorframe as he stepped inside. “The one and only. I was hoping you’d still be awake.”

“I couldn’t sleep anyway,” Dream said, standing up from his position at the desk by the window. “I’m not used to passing out without the sound of the waves.”

Foolish’s eyes flicked from Dream to the desk and the crumpled wanted poster. He looked back at Dream, offering a small sympathetic nod. “Right. It was the quiet keeping you awake.” He crossed the room, setting his lantern on Dream’s desk and picking up the wanted poster. “I’m sorry about everything. You’ve been away from Sandberg Cove for almost six months, but now that you’re back I have nothing to share but bad news.

Dream shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning up against the wall, staring at the floorboards. “It isn’t your fault.”

“Still,” Foolish said. He sat down in the desk chair, glancing out the window at the darkly lit night. “I thought maybe she could handle the new bounty, but after seeing her leg...” he trailed off. “Of course, she was too stubborn to listen.”

Dream shook his head with a frustrated grimace. “Yeah. I could hear you guys fighting from up here. I don’t know how you expected to change the Captain’s mind.”

Foolish sighed. “I didn’t, really. But I had to try something.”

Dream walked over to Foolish, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I get it,” he confessed. “I know how hard it can be to get through to her sometimes.”

“You don’t get it, though,” Foolish said, his voice cracking. He buried his head in his hands. “When she took you and Tommy in, you guys grew up on her ship. I didn’t even know I had any living family until I was fourteen. I can’t lose Puffy. I can’t lose any of you.”

Dream winced. Foolish was his brother in all but blood. It hurt, seeing him like this, a man buried by fear. “The doctor was certain she’s not safe enough to travel?”

Foolish shook his head miserably. “He said it’s really bad. Even if everything goes well she still might lose her leg, and that’s if she’s getting proper treatment. The Spirit doesn’t even have a surgeon anymore. If Puffy tried to outrun the bounty hunters, the infection would kill her first.”

Dream glanced out the window, down at the port where the Spirit of Adventure was moored. The crew was sleeping on board that night, ready to pack up and go at a moment’s notice from the Captain. “We can’t stay, Foolish,” he said. “Even if you could talk the Captain into retiring, there’s too many people in Sandberg Cove. Maybe they were willing to ignore us before, but with a bounty that big, someone is going to tell the Dies Empiea Navy that we’re docked here.”

“Why can’t you just give that boat to someone else?” Foolish muttered, wiping the tears from his eyes. “No one’s ever figured out who Puffy is. If we don’t have the ship they won’t find us.”

Dream felt a small flash of anger, but he quickly buried it in his chest. Foolish only wanted their family safe. It wasn’t fair to blame him for this. “The Spirit is home,” Dream said. “It’s family. If we send it with the crew we’re putting them in danger. If we sell it to someone, we’re making them all homeless. I don’t expect you to understand. But it’s more than just a boat. It’s the place Tommy and I grew up, and it's the Captain’s legacy.”

Foolish sank down in the chair, looking over at Dream. There were dark circles under his eyes. It was clear he hadn’t been sleeping well between the time he’d found the wanted poster and the Spirit’s return. “So there’s just nothing we can do? We just have to… to… sit around, waiting for everything to fall apart?”

Dream bit his lip. “Usually people lose interest in bounties, even huge ones, if they realize it’s too difficult. There’s nowhere the Spirit could hide long enough without being found, but if it was too fast to catch, most would eventually give up. It’s won battles with larger ships before, too. We just need to escape long enough for the heat to die down.”

“Puffy can’t sail,” Foolish repeated, more firmly now. “I know if anyone could outrun the navy and the bounty hunters it's her, but not like this. She needs a clean environment and a doctor. Sailing in her state will kill her.”

Dream leaned against the wall, staring out the window of the guest room. There was no glass—Sandberg Cove was warm and sunny year-round, so even from up in Foolish’s hillside villa the cool breeze carried the bitter-salt smell of the ocean. “What if the Captain wasn’t on the ship? What if it left her here?”

Foolish looked up at Dream, frowning. “You said yourself Puffy would never give up her ship.”

Dream nodded. “And the crew would never leave her behind unless she told them to,” he agreed. “But the wanted poster is for the captain of the Spirit. Not for Puffy. If someone could lead bounty hunters away, long enough for people to lose interest, or even just for the Captain’s leg to get better, that might work. And if the crew thought she’d signed off on it, they’d listen.”

Foolish stood up quickly, frowning. “I think I know where you’re going with this and I don’t like it.”

“We don’t exactly have a lot of options,” Dream said firmly. “If the Captain goes, I’m going with her, and Tommy would probably sneak aboard too, even if we tried to leave him here. If I take the ship, then it’s only one of us in danger instead of three. Since I’m first mate, there’s a better chance the crew will believe me, and more importantly, I know how to run a ship.”

Foolish’s jaw clenches. “No. No way. You’ve been Puffy’s first mate for only a few months. You’re too young to be handling this.”

“I’m an adult, Foolish,” Dream said, straightening up. Although he was rather tall, he still had to look up to meet Foolish’s eyes. “I’ve been at sea my whole life. I may not be as experienced as the Captain, but even if I can’t fight, I can run.”

Foolish stares into Dream’s eyes, searching him, digging for any sign of uncertainty, any hint that he wasn’t ready. “You’re my family too, Dream,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I don’t want to lose you any more than I want to lose Puffy.”

Dream managed to fake a small smile, more to reassure Foolish than anything else. “You’re not going to. I trust the crew, and I trust myself. It’ll work out.”

Foolish shook his head. “I’m going to lie. I hate this plan. But… nothing else I think of would work. This might be the best we can do right now.” He stepped forward, grabbing Dream’s hand and holding it tightly. “If you die,” he said, “I’ll drag you out of hell and yell at you until your ears bleed.”

Dream snorted, his tense smile becoming a little more relaxed. “Deal.” He glanced out the window one last time. “I’ll be back in another six months. Maybe a year or two, if the heat from the bounty takes longer to die down. Are you still good at forging handwriting? Even with the Captain’s condition, the crew might be suspicious if I tell them she’s retiring. Especially Quackity. He’s clever, good at reading people. A letter from the Captain might help convince them she actually agreed to this.”

Foolish nodded, sitting down at the desk and pulling an inkwell and a sheet of parchment from one of the drawers. “I haven’t tried Puffy’s handwriting in a while, but I think I can do it. Do you really think you can convince them for six months?”

Dream glanced away, feeling a small knot of guilt in his chest. Realistically, six months probably wouldn’t be enough. But if it helped Foolish be optimistic, he wouldn’t say as much. “Not really, but I don’t need to. After a week or two out, we won’t be able to turn back without the risk of running straight into enemy ships. If it were any other crew there might be a mutiny, but the Spirit’s crew are good people.” He paused, a small half-smile crossing his face for a moment. “For pirates, anyway. The worst they might do is vote someone else in as acting captain until we can come back.”

Foolish dipped the pen nib in ink, starting to write a letter. He had the nimble hands of an architect, his pen skating over the parchment like gulls over waves, mimicking Captain Puffy’s light skittering handwriting. “You probably don’t remember,” he said as he wrote, “But after I first met Puffy, I was terrified. I thought I’d have to choose between getting to know my own father and the life I’d built for myself.”

Dream tipped his head to the side, wondering why Foolish brought this up now. Nonetheless, he listened.

“I think it was pretty obvious,” Foolish continued talking without resting his pen. “I was, uh, a skittish kid. So when Puffy realized what was bothering me, she gave me a compass.” He stopped now, lifting his left hand to gently touch the golden compass hanging from a thin chain around his neck. “It’s enchanted to always point towards her ship. If it ever sinks, the enchantment ends. The idea was that I could still live my life, but I’d always know where Puffy was, that she was still safe, and that she’d come back to see me.”

Foolish paused for a long moment, lost in memory. Eventually, he shook his head, dipping the pen in the ink once again and turning his attention back to the letter. “Anyway, the point is… just be careful. I want to be able to look at the compass and know you’re okay. I want to see you come home.”

“You will,” Dream said. It was tempting to pull Foolish into a tight bear hug, but distracting him from the forgery could ruin everything. Instead, Dream started gathering his things. Of what little he owned, most of it was still aboard the Spirit. But he threw on his backpack and tricorne hat, laced up his heavy cavalier boots, and grabbed the cavalry sabre he’d left by the door.

Although he left his guns on the ship, he rarely left his sabre behind. The pommel was a sleek black, with a guard carved in the shape of ram’s horns, and though the blade itself had seen and dealt its fair share of damage it was still lovingly sharpened and polished. It had belonged to the Captain. She’d gifted it to him on the tenth anniversary of the day they’d met, showing him where she’d engraved his name on the hilt.

Having a weapon on hand made Dream feel more safe and in control. Having the Captain’s old sabre made him feel like there was something worth staying safe for.

Attaching the sabre’s sheathe to his belt, Dream began to pace the length of the room as Foolish worked. “The Captain’s a heavy sleeper, but Tommy isn’t. He needs to stay behind too, he’s still just a kid.”

Foolish looked up, seeming almost startled to see Dream getting ready to leave. “You’re planning on going tonight? You just arrived this morning.”

“We can’t waste any time,” Dream said solemnly. “Even a day could be enough time for word to get out that the Spirit is in Sandberg Cove, or for Puffy to figure out what we’re planning. The crew won’t think anything of it. Sailors are used to working odd hours.”

Foolish looked back down, shoulders slumped. “I hate that you’re right,” he said. “I don’t want you to go.”

Dream walked over, resting a hand on Foolish’s shoulder. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he said softly, though both of them knew it wasn’t true. “Is the letter done?”

Foolish nodded. “Almost.” He was brushing off the pinch of sand used to help the ink dry faster, neatly folding the parchment before tucking it into an envelope. “The letters Puffy sent me usually used a blank seal,” he said, opening a panel in his lantern so he could hold a small stick of wax near the flame. “So we don’t need to worry about mimicking a stamp. It’s an easier forgery, at least.” He let the melted red wax drip onto the envelope before pressing down the seal. He used a small rag to start cleaning the ink from his fingers, his expression far too dark to be thinking only of letter writing.

Dream tried to think of something reassuring to say to help Foolish relax. His mind came up blank. Instead, he just took the envelope, fanning it and waiting for the wax to cool. “Speaking of letters, I’ll try to write. Normally we’d just pass them off to another pirate ship headed this way, but with a bounty as high as the Captain’s, well. Honor among thieves is already hard to come by. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to send.”

“You can never write me once, and I’ll forgive you if you come home safe,” Foolish said, closing the lantern panel before he stood up from the desk. “Do you want to leave a letter for Puffy or Tommy?”

Dream looked away, tucking the envelope into his jacket pocket. He tried to think of what he would say, what he would tell the captain who raised him and the boy who was like a brother. “No,” Dream said, shaking his head. Leaving a letter behind felt too much like a goodbye. Anything he had to say, he’d say in person once all of this was over. “I can just write them later. Besides, Tommy would probably just tear it up. He’s going to be pissed when he finds out I left without him.”

“We’re family,” Foolish said, a tired smile finally managing to pull through his tense expression. “Getting mad at each other for doing stupid stuff is our job.”

Unable to hold back any longer, Dream grabbed Foolish, pulling him into the tightest hug he could manage. “I’ll come back.”

Foolish wrapped his arms around Dream, burying his face in the top of Dream’s hat. “You better,” he murmured.

After a long, warm moment, Dream was the first to pull away.

“I should go,” he said. Although Dream was sure this was the right choice, he was just as sure that the longer he stayed, the less he could bring himself to leave.

Foolish reached up and held onto the compass around his neck, nodding. “Yeah,” he said, his smile now a little forced. “I had some people down at the dock start loading up supplies once you guys were moored, so you should at least be set for a couple of weeks.”

“Thanks, Foolish,” Dream said.

He turned and walked out the door of the guest room, to the villa’s back door down the hall, and pulled it open. Immediately he was hit by a breeze off the ocean, the scent of brine carried on the wind, tousling Dream’s blonde salt-crusted hair. He could see the entirety of the small town that made up Sandberg Cove, and the docks beyond it, with flags billowing and snapping in the sharp ocean winds. He tightened his grip on his backpack strap, stealing a glance over his shoulder.

Foolish waited in the hallway, leaned up against the wall, watching with that same tired smile. “Go,” he said softly, nodding his head towards the harbor. “I’ll keep Puffy and Tommy safe until you make it home.”

Dream nodded, turning back to face the harbor. With one hand holding the strap of his bag and the other holding his hat to his head, he took off running down the steep hill below the villa. Wildgrass and shrubbery whipped past his legs, and the wind blew through his coat, filling it like the sails of a ship as he hurtled downwards. Rocks scattered beneath his feet as the hill leveled out into a gravel road. The path wound down through the village, bathed in darkness now that the street lamps were extinguished for the night. He didn’t slow until he reached the harbor, his racing footsteps gradually slowly as he caught his breath down among the ships.

Although the harbor was bustling by day, at this time of night there were only a few guards out patrolling the docks for signs of trouble. They paid Dream no mind as he passed, only a brief nod of acknowledgment as they went about their rounds.

The Spirit of Adventure was moored along the dock Foolish kept reserved for its visits, the closest point on the water to the villa. The anchors were down and the sails were reefed—in a rush, the crew might be able to get the ship going in less than a half-hour, but if Dream hurried them they might suspect something was up. He glanced at the horizon, still only lit by dim moonlight. There was a few hours til sunrise. So long as the Captain stayed asleep and didn’t think to look at the window, it could be done.

Dream climbed the gangplank, the water-soaked wooden boards creaking beneath his feet. The sound was familiar, comforting even. Dream took a deep breath, walking over to the quarterdeck where a single lantern flickered.

Punz was leaning against the ship’s railing, lit only by the lantern set at their feet. They were holding a small grayish piece of driftwood, shaving away pieces with a pocketknife, slowly carving out the rough shape of a horse. When Dream came near, they glanced up from their work, shooting him an easygoing smile. “You’re here awful early,” they remarked, flipping their pocketknife shut and stowing it in their pocket. “Do you need something?”

“You could say that,” Dream said, pulling the forged letter from his jacket pocket and holding it out for Punz. “You’re relieved from watch duty for the night. We need all hands on deck.”

Punz raised an eyebrow at Dream, setting their driftwood carving on the railing so they had both hands free to crack the wax seal. They unfolded the letter, eyes flickering quickly over the page, brow furrowed in concentration. “The Captain’s retiring? That’s sudden,” they said, still reading it over. “I mean, I know the infection in her leg was pretty serious, but I didn’t think anyone could talk her into actually stepping down.”

“She’ll come back,” Dream said. “I mean, probably, anyway, once her leg is better. I don’t she could stay away from the sea for long.”

Punz tucked the letter back in the envelope, glancing up and meeting Dream’s eyes. They held each others’ gaze for a long moment. Dream could feel Punz considering him carefully, trying to pick apart his story and see through him. “You’ve barely been first mate a year. It must be a surprise to be made captain so soon after,” they said.

Their words were deceptively simple, but Dream knew Punz was clever, knew they were gauging his reaction. Dream faked a smile, shaking his head. “I certainly didn’t expect to be put in this position, but unless the crew votes in someone better suited, I’ll do my job to keep the Spirit safe and successful until the Captain is well again,” he said firmly. If he was going to fill the boots of a captain, now was the time to take command. “With the trouble the navy’s been causing lately, setting sail under nightfall will make it more difficult for any spies in Sandberg to catch us out. You wake the crew. I’ll start charting a course.”

Punz looked into Dream’s eyes, cocking their head to the side thoughtfully. Dream swallowed the lump in his throat, hoping beyond hope their friendship was enough to allay any suspicions. Had they already figured him out as a fraud? Did they already know?

Tucking the letter back in the envelope, Punz returned it to Dream with a shrewd smile. “I’ll get everyone up. What about Tommy? Will he not be manning the rigging?” they asked, glancing toward the bow of the ship.

Right. Tommy had never been left behind on a voyage before. Dream inclined his head, feeling a small weight in his chest. He could hardly remember life before sailing with Tommy. It hurt to leave him behind, but life as a pirate was already dangerous enough. Tommy was young. With the target Dies Empiea had painted on the Spirit’s crew, it must be better to leave him behind if it kept him safe.

“The Captain wants him to stay in Sandberg Cove,” Dream lied. “She says he needs to learn some sense from Foolish.”

“Business sense or common sense?” Punz said, eyes sparkling playfully. They tucked away their unfinished carving and swept the wood shavings off the boat’s edge before bending over to pick up their lantern. “I’ll put Skeppy in charge of the rigging. He barely does any work on the ship anyway, so it’s about time he does something useful. We should be seaworthy within the hour.” They clapped their hand on Dream’s shoulder, grinning widely. “We’ll leave at your word, Captain Dream.”

Chapter Text

Dream stood on the ship’s bridge, trying to track every member of the small crew at once. Running the ship as first-mate was one thing. He was used to executing the Captain’s orders, with her overseeing his work to correct any missteps. Now he could only count on himself and on the Spirit’s crew. It was almost nauseating trying to manage it all at once. But he’d chosen to do this, for his family’s sake. He just had to focus.

“Hoist the topsail!” Dream shouted, looking up into the rigging. From his perch on the gaff, Skeppy saluted to show he’d heard, though even at a distance it was clear he was scowling. He hadn’t taken well to being woken up so early. Still, he started climbing to the mast to take in the lines.

Punz stopped by the foot of the bridge steps, looking up at Dream. “Captain Dream,” they said, throwing him a quick salute, “The buntline is out and the sheets are at the ready.”

Dream nodded making a mental note while he walked towards the side of the ship parallel with the dock. “All hands, cast away the hawsers! Tina, haul anchor! Stand by on starboard to shove off!” he ordered. In a matter of minutes now, they’d be sailing out of the harbor and onto the open sea. ‘Last chance to turn back’ he thought shrewdly, and his heart started to race in his chest like a storm beating on the sea.

Briefly, the beam of the lighthouse swept over the Spirit, almost blinding in contrast to the dim lantern’s glow. Dream blinked the spots out of his eyes, trying to shake off the brief stun. “Shove off! Belay the halyard! Sheet home! Strike the topsail!” He shouted, taking up position at the helm. On the deck, the crew pushed off the dock, readying the ship as it started to pull away. Dream turned the steering wheel, and the boat lurched slightly as it began to slowly arc outwards across the shallow waves. 

It hit him all at once how unprepared he was. He didn’t have a route charted. He’d handled sailing the ship, but never planned or led a raid on merchant ships. Dream had seen Captain Puffy do it countless times over the years, he’d even helped when she asked, but the responsibility had never been on his shoulders alone. The crew was his to take care of now, and the realization was heavier than cannon-shot.

The ship glided over the water, the sails billowing and filling with the wind at their backs. Overhead, sleepless seagulls cried out, circling the highest mast as if saying goodbye. The docks and the moored ships passed them by. It would be, at best, six months before the Spirit could return to Sandberg Cove. Realistically, though, it would be much longer. Dream turned back to get a good look at the island, burning it in his memory while he still could.

A lantern light wove through the forest of masts, racing down the docks. Dream turned away from the helm for a moment, stepping forward to get a closer look.

The Captain ran through the harbor like a woman possessed, moving faster on one leg and a crutch than Dream had seen anyone run with both feet on the ground. Foolish was chasing after her, his lantern swinging wildly as they ran. She kept running until she reached the end of the dock, already more than the ship’s length away. She yelled something, but her voice was stolen by the distance and the wind. Still, even from this far, even without hearing her, he could see she was frantic as she leaned out over the water as if somehow she could still reach him.

“I love you, Captain,” he said softly. His words were lost to the crashing of the waves, drowned in the sea below. Steeling his nerves, Dream turned back to the helm. If he looked back for long, eventually so would the crew. Maybe they would only think the Captain had come to see them off, but he couldn’t risk them suspecting anything more. He had to keep them focused on the voyage ahead. He had to keep himself focused too. Better to think about what lay ahead rather than the pain of what he was leaving behind. 

Dream cleared his throat. There was work to be done. “Callahan!” He shouted. The often-quiet man perked up, tying down the rope he’d been tending to before hopping up to join Dream on the bridge. “Keep the helm steady til we’re out of Sandberg Cove’s reef,” Dream told him. He turned back to the rest of the ship, climbing down the steps to join the rest of the crew. “Eyes in the boat!”

The crew gathered around the center of the deck, a few handheld lanterns casting sleepy faces in the wild dancing lights. Dream gave them a moment to get out their yawns and gather themselves before he spoke again. “As you may have heard from Punz,” Dream said, passing the forged letter from the Captain to Tina on his left so everyone could take a chance to read it, “The Captain is taking a leave of absence. I’d call it a retirement, but in a few months she’d make me a liar.” A few of the older crewmates chuckled at that. “As her first mate, she nominated me to take the role of acting captain,” he continued. ‘It seems I don’t need the Captain to make me a liar when I’m more than capable of doing that on my own,’ he thought wryly. “Of course, we’re free sailors, not kingdoms’ ships. If anyone has cause to oppose me, speak now, and we can put the matter to a vote.”

There was a brief pause before Quackity spoke up. “All due respect man, but you’ve been first mate barely a year. You might be old enough for that, but you’re a bit young to be running the whole crew yourself. What about Tina or Callahan?”

“Oh dear,” Tina said, tilting her head to the side. “That’s so nice of you Quackity! But just because I’m a little older than you doesn’t mean I’m a good choice. Being master gunner means I’m usually below deck with the guns, and honestly I do like it that way. I wouldn’t know the first thing about captaining really.”

Skeppy dropped down from the lowest point of the rigging, joining the rest of the gathered crew, absently scratching the inside of his ear. “What about Callahan? He’s old and good at maps and stuff.”

All of the crew looked towards the helm where Callahan stood, wariness plain on all their faces.

Although the idea of Callahan as captain made Dream tense, he tried his best to be impartial. “It’s true that Callahan is a skilled sailor and a skilled fighter, and he’s been at sea longer than most of us,” he said slowly.

“I don’t know,” Tina said, bouncing on her toes. “He’s a sweet guy, but also, maybe don’t put him in charge of the whole ship? I mean, Callahan is just a teeny tiny bit… unconventional, and he can be pretty reckless, y’know?”

“You mean he’s crazy,” Punz muttered. “He can be captain as soon as we’re ready to try and gun down the entire royal navy singlehanded.”

Murmurs of agreement spread through the crew, and Dream let out a sigh of relief. Callahan was a good man, but just as much as he was good, he was wildly unpredictable. The thought of him running the crew was a terrifying one.

Taking a deep breath, Dream squared his shoulders. “Until there are any other concerns or possible candidates, we’ll move forward,” he said firmly. He waited for a moment for anyone to speak in protest, but when he was met with none, he continued. “We’ll continue to abide by the same ship’s articles that the Captain—or rather, that Captain Puffy put in place. Although I trust you all with my life, as the acting captain I must make it perfectly clear that as on any ship, breaking of the code will be punished quickly and harshly. Any questions or calls for change in the articles are to be brought to me. Do I make myself clear?”

A half dozen voices replied “Aye,” and the crew all nodded.

Dream nodded in return. “We’re sailing south, ports of call to be announced one we’ve left Dies Empiea waters. First two weeks of travel, we sail hard and we sail fast.”

“Captain?” Tina said. It took Dream a moment to realize she was speaking to him. “With Captain Puffy and Tommy off the ship, we’ve kinda got some holes in our crew now, don’t we? I mean, if you aren’t first mate, who is?”

“We don’t have to worry about Tommy’s job,” Punz said, glancing briefly toward the ship’s forecastle. “Skeppy can just keep doing the rigging.”

Skeppy groaned. “Come on, I hate manning the rigging! I’m always getting sunburns, and the lines give my hands blisters, it’s the worst.”

Dream snorted, shaking his head. “Skeppy, you’re stuck with the rigging. As for first mate…” he hesitated, glancing around at the gathered crew. They were about as small as a seafaring party could get, but having a narrow breadth of choice didn’t make it any easier. His first mate would be his right hand, his advisor, his anchor in a storm of uncertainty. He couldn’t decide on a spur of the moment. “I’ll appoint someone within the week,” he finally said. “Til then, less hands on deck means we’ll all be working harder. I’ll be expecting all of your best. Disperse!”

Slowly the crew began to splinter and disperse,  breaking off into pairs to chat or heading towards the forecastle to head back below deck and get some sleep.

As the work slowly began to be tied up for the night, Dream turned to Punz, tapping them on the shoulder. “Hey, there’s probably still about two hours until dawn,” he said. “Think you’re up to finish out your shift, or do you need me to take the rest of it?”

Punz smiled, shaking their head. “Nah, I’ve got it. Besides, you’re the captain now. Got to be well-rested to take care of your crew.” They headed up the steps to the helm, likely to relieve Callahan from the helm.

Dream walked over to the ship’s side, leaning out over the bulwark. Behind them, Sandberg Cove had become small enough he could’ve held it in his hand, the sweeping glow of the lighthouse closer to a firefly’s flicker. The tiny green palm trees waved in the ocean wind, the distant trade ships seeming as small and frail as a model ship built in a glass bottle. He wondered how long Puffy and Foolish had stood at the dock’s edge. He wondered how long it would be until Tommy woke up and realized Dream had left him behind. He wondered, for just a moment, if this was the last time he would see the little island.

He crushed the thought quickly. There was no room for doubt.

A strong wind blew from behind the ship, knocking the tricorne hat from Dream’s head. “Shit!” he yelled, turning around to try and catch it before the sea stole it away.

Before he could grab it, a sun-tanned hand lightly snatched it out of the air. Dream watched as Quackity took the tricorne, snugly pulling it on over the blue bandana he wore, flashing a roguish smile. “Did you lose something, Captain Dream?”

“Very funny Quackity,” Dream said drily, walking over to Quackity and plucking the hat off the shorter man’s head. He put it back on, pulling it down tightly to keep it from flying off again.

“Take me out to dinner first,” Quackity said, wiggling his eyebrows. His smile fell a bit as he leaned against the ship’s railing, the mischief in his eyes dying out. “So the Captain’s leg is really that bad, huh.”

Dream faltered. “I mean, the infection should be manageable while a doctor sees to her. That’s the hard part, really. The amputation didn’t shake her too much. If anything, the Captain seemed excited about the idea of a peg leg,” he said.

Quackity snorted, shaking his head. “The Captain would be.” He fell quiet for a moment, then took a deep breath, heaving a sigh. He ran his fingers through his dark messy bangs, staring at the black seawater below.  “Fuck. This really is my fault, isn’t it?”

Dream frowned, leaning on the railing next to Quackity, gently bumping their shoulders. “What? The Captain got hit by cannon shrapnel, there’s nothing anybody could’ve done.”

Quackity pulled away, grimacing. “The cannon didn’t saw her leg off, though.”

“Quackity,” Dream said firmly, “You were hired to be the ship’s carpenter, not a surgeon. You did the best you could. We have no way of knowing how bad the infection could’ve gotten if you didn’t amputate. As far as I’m concerned, you saved the Captain’s life.”

After a moment, Quackity sighed, shooting Dream a tired smile. “Well in that case, how about you do something to pay me back?” He said. “Find the crew a real surgeon.”

Dream winced, sucking a sharp breath in. “There’s not exactly many surgeons who want to work for outlaws. Captain Puffy had been trying to find one for years,” he said hesitantly.

“You’re a resourceful guy,” Quackity said, straightening up. “I don’t want to watch anyone on this ship die because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. If you’re really going to fill the Captain’s shoes, prove you can take care of this crew. Get us a damn doctor.” He pushed away from the railing, giving Dream a brief pat on the back before turning away and heading below deck.

Dream stayed at the ship’s edge a while longer, turning back to watch Sandberg Cove once again. The island itself was lost in the shadow of the sea now, the only sign it hadn’t suddenly disappeared beneath the waves being the distant blinking of the lighthouse, growing steadily dimmer. He watched the light fade, lost in thought. He was going to have to prove himself as captain, find the crew a surgeon, outrun bounty hunters and navy men, and make it through alive. The challenge ahead seemed to only swell like a storm’s great wave, threatening to sweep him away and drown him. 

Somewhere on the deck, wood scraped against wood. Dream turned around quickly, squinting to try and better see the deck. With all the crew but Punz taking the lanterns below deck, there was little light to see by, and from where Punz stood at the helm the lantern light was cut through by the heavy shadow of the ship’s bridge. Nothing seemed out of place. Dream stepped up to the bridge, waving Punz over. “Did you hear something?” He asked.

Punz shrugged. “Maybe a few barrels or crates weren’t tied down right,” they said. “It’s probably nothing. I’d be more worried if it was quiet on a ship.”

Dream nodded, rubbing his eyes. “Fair. I should probably get some sleep.” He crossed the deck, climbing down into the hold and the crew’s quarters. Everyone had been quick to put out their lanterns and get back in their cots, most already asleep, drained by the heavy work of getting the ship sea-bound again. Dream walked over to his cot, falling into it roughly. The canvas bounced under his weight, settling into the steady rocking of the ship. He rolled onto his back, prying off his boots, tossing them on the floor, then tossing his hat off too.

Dream lay in the dark for some time, listening to the steady drone of waves against the hull, and the quiet sounds of the sleeping crew. He reached up to the bulwark at the head of his cot, running his fingers across the rough wooden planks. He felt the familiar shape of a shallow carving cut into the wall. He traced it absently, letting his eyes drift shut. ‘Dream,’ ‘Pandas,’ and a crooked smiley face between the two. “I wish you were here to help me,” Dream murmured, letting his hand fall. Despite the weight on his mind these past few days, his body finally gave in to exhaustion, and he drifted off into dreams of an endless childhood at sea with a storm-eyed boy.

Chapter Text

There is no rest in the morning. Dream lowers the spyglass, handing it back to Punz and taking a deep breath in. “No doubt about it, that ship is heading our way,” he said, crossing his arms. If the flags are anything to go by, I’d guess they’re bounty hunters, not marines.”

Punz twisted their spyglass, telescoping the bronze pieces together down til it was small enough to tuck in their vest. “If we keep pace, they’ll be on us in about an hour.”

“Dammit,” Dream snapped, tightening his fists. “We’re as fast as we can go without throwing supplies overboard, and there’s no knowing when we can stop to get more.” He took his hat off, running his hand through his hair as he paced back and forth.

“Sir,” Punz said, “Should we get in position to fight?”

Dream shook his head. “There’s time before they’ll be in firing range. You’ve been awake all night. Go try and grab some sleep, and I’ll send someone to wake you before the last call to battle stations.”

Punz frowned, rubbing at the dark circles under their eyes. “But sir—“

“You won’t be doing anyone any good if you’re too tired to shoot straight,” Dream interrupted. He walked down the steps to the deck, Punz trailing behind.

Tina, Quackity, Callahan, and Skeppy were gathered around the base of the mast, talking quietly and hurriedly eating their breakfast. As Dream and Punz approached, Tina smiled, giving them each a mango. “Eat up! Fresh fruit doesn’t last long, so we gotta eat these first,” she said brightly.

Callahan shoved his mango into his mouth, freeing up his hands to speak sign. ‘When do we get to sink the navy ship?’

“Bounty hunters, not navy,” Dream said, taking a bite out of the mango Tina gave him. It crunched firmly under his teeth, under-ripened juice dribbling out the corners of his mouth. He roughly wiped it away with the back of his hand before continuing. “And it does look like we’re going to have to fight. Given that they’re chasing us they probably don’t have much aboard besides rations or weapons, so we aren’t going to bother trying to loot them. Unless they get close enough to try and board us, I want everyone on the gun deck.”

Tina lit up, bouncing on her toes. “Ohhhh! I’ve got some great shrapnel cartridges we can use. Quackity, you’ll be on my team, and the other team can be Skeppy and Punzo.” She paused, her cheeks pinking. “Er, if that’s okay with you that is, Captain!”

“You’re still our master gunner Tina, I’ll trust your call on this,” Dream said, nodding. “When you finish eating, go ahead and head down to prep the guns and magazine. Skeppy, you’ll stow the tables and cots and help Tina.”

Quackity piped in, “I can truss the masts and holystone the decks,” he offered.

Dream kept nodding, going through a mental checklist. “Once the Spirit is ready, everyone needs to make sure their personal weapons are sharpened and loaded in case of a boarding. Any questions? No?” He paused for a beat, then continued. “Alright, when I finish up in the captain’s cabin I’ll come help ready the guns. Dismissed to your positions.” He turned on heel and walked towards the captain’s cabin, finishing off the rest of the mango. Out of habit, he knocked on the door—it took him a moment to remember Captain Puffy wouldn’t be inside to answer. Hesitating, briefly, he turned the handle and let himself in.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to see the cabin completely unchanged, but somehow it did. The desk was still piled high with scattered maps and contracts, the short bookshelves lining the walls still slid back and forth as the ship rocked, and several of Captain Puffy’s sailing coats still hung on the pegs by the door. Even as Dream’s life came to the near edge of falling apart, the cabin was almost exactly as it had been since he’d sat on the Captain’s knee, learning to read out of her ship’s log. Dream walked inside, taking his hat off and setting it on the desk. He pushed shut the wardrobe that’d come ajar, and sat behind the grand wooden desk, sorting through the mess of papers.

Before battle could begin, he had to tend to the three duties of a ship’s captain. First, assign duties. Second, assess the ship’s weapons and ammo. Third, see to it each crew member’s will was in order. It was grim work, but a necessary precaution. Life at sea could be deadly in and of itself, but the life of a pirate meant racing into danger headlong. Dream carefully sorted through a folder of wills and letters to be sent to loved ones. He didn’t let himself consider the possibility he might have to actually carry any of them out.

Dream was resourceful. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—watch anyone on this ship die because he didn’t know what he was doing. He’d keep his crew alive, no matter what.

After a few minutes of trying futilely to sort Captain Puffy’s mess of paperwork, Dream finally gave in. He’d seen what he needed to before battle. He got up and opened the weapons case beneath her cot. After a moment of consideration, he took her whetstone so he could sharpen his blade, a pair of flintlock pistols, and a couple of iron hand-grenades. He glanced over at the wardrobe, wondering if he should change out his tricorne hat and green sailor’s jacket for something more fitting of a captain. Then again, the clothes he wore were eminently practical, and Captain Puffy was much shorter than he was. Although he did notice the wardrobe door was open ajar. Hadn’t he closed it already?

Dream slowly straightened up, narrowing his eyes at the wardrobe. He slowly crept closer. He carefully unholstered one of the pistols, reaching out with his free hand to grab the wardrobe’s handle. Quickly, he ripped the door open, finger on the trigger.

“Don’t shoot! I’ll bite you!” screamed the boy in the wardrobe, desperately trying to keep a grip on his armload of mangos without getting tangled in the hanging clothes.

“W—“ Dream took a step back, lowering the gun. “Tommy!?” He shoved the pistol back in its holster, reaching into the wardrobe and grabbing the scrawny twelve-year-old by the scruff of his bandana. Dream dragged him out of the wardrobe.

Tommy froze, looking up at Dream with wide blue eyes. “Uh… heyyy, Dream! Big man, Big D! So, you’re not gonna believe this—“

“What the hell, Tommy!” Dream snapped, shaking Tommy by the shoulders. “What are you doing hiding in the closet? Forget it, what are you doing on the ship? When did you get here! Are you insane?”

Tommy wriggled free of Dream’s grip, throwing his hands up defensively. “It’s not my fault! I was trying to find the bathroom in Foolish’s stupid fancy house and I heard you talking about leaving me behind!” he protested. “If you think about it, really, this is all your fault. Actually, I’m the victim here if you—“

“I’m literally going to kill you,” Dream seethed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You have no idea how much danger you’re putting yourself in, Tommy. Does the Captain know? Who am I kidding, of course she wouldn’t agree to this. How did you get on the ship without anyone seeing you?”

Tommy crossed his arms, smiling smugly. “I’m a master of stealth.”

“Bullshit,” Dream said. “You’re going to explain yourself to me later.” He rifled through the pockets of his jacket, eventually pulling out a small dirk knife with a shark-tooth handle. “Get below decks, you’re going to be Tina’s powder monkey. Stay out of the way, and if we get boarded, hide down in the bilge.”

“But the bilge is gross!” Tommy complained. 

Dream shot him a stern look. “Until Puffy is back on duty, I’m your captain. Follow orders or I’ll lock you in the cabin for your own good,” he said firmly. He flipped the dirk around in his hand, offering it to Tommy hilt first. “Use this as a last resort only, got it?”

Tommy quickly grabbed the knife, grinning as he poked the blade against his finger to see how sharp it was. “Fuck yes! I can’t wait to shank a bitch.”

The door slammed open, Skeppy bursting in panicked and short of breath, with gunpowder smeared across his face. “Dream! I mean, uh, Captain! The enemy ship—oh, hey Tommy, I thought you were staying in Sandberg Cove,” he said, suddenly losing his train of thought.

“Dream gave me a knife,” Tommy said, grinning wickedly.

Dream resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “What about the bounty hunters’ ship?”

Skeppy’s eyes went wide. “Oh, right! The wind changed, it’s coming in a lot faster. Callahan said we have ten minutes at most before they’re close enough to fire.”

“Goddammit!“ Dream hissed. “Both of you get to the gun deck. Skeppy, wake up Punz. I’ll be on the main deck with Callahan to call shots. Move!”

He hurried Skeppy and Tommy out the door, slamming it shut once they were all outside. While the others scrambled for the hatch, Dream took up position on the bridge, where Callahan still stood ready at the helm. From below the deck, he heard Tina yelling, “Shot your guns, fellas! Run out to starboard!” Leaning over the Spirit’s edge, he saw the barrels of two canons peer out through the gunports below.

The enemy wasn’t far out now, the red, blue and yellow of its flags crisp against the morning sky. It was larger than the Spirit, with at least a half-dozen cannon ports on either side. Pulling out a spyglass, Dream could just make out the black lettering on its side, ‘The Frontrunner.’  Even at a distance he could see their crew was larger, milling about the deck like ants swarming a dying beetle in search of an easy mill. Dream took a deep breath, adjusting the spyglass’s focus.

Because it was a larger ship, The Frontrunner’s cannon ports were higher on the hull. Dream lowered the spyglass, making a snap decision. “Callahan, sail us in as close to the enemy ship as you can,” he ordered. “The arc of their shots will be too high to hit the ship while we fire on them.” Anyone else behind the helm would’ve been wary, pointing out what a risk that’d be. Callahan obliged without question—though it was likely a matter of thrill-seeking moreso than blind loyalty to orders. It was certainly a dangerous play. Although they’d be at less risk of getting sunk, The Frontrunner could still use chain-shot to disable the sails and rigging, and the chances of getting boarded were much higher. Either way, the Spirit hadn’t been dealt a kindly hand.

Suddenly, explosion. Despite his best efforts to steel himself, Dream flinched when the first cannon of the enemy ship began to fire. The first shot whistled past overhead, crashing into the ocean somewhere behind the Spirit. Dream didn’t turn to look, forcing himself to focus on the ship ahead. Three more blackened steel barrels peered out of the other ship. Two more shots went wide. The third smashed into the front of the hull, thrusting the Spirit back. Dream stumbled to keep his balance, taking a sharp deep breath in. “Quackity! Shot-plug, starboard bow!” He yelled. There was a muffled cry of confirmation somewhere down below, so he took it as a sign Quackity would work on it. He waited another minute as they sailed closer. The lull in fire probably meant four cannons was all the enemy ship could fire at once. More importantly, though, it was enough time to get the Spirit close enough to return fire. “Tina! On your mark!”

There was a moment of tension, broken by Tina’s cry. “Fire!”

Two shots fired in sequence. One narrowly missed, while the other crashed into the enemy ship’s deck, narrowly missing the mast. The two ships were close now, slowly circling one another like feral prowling cats. The Frontrunner likely wouldn’t want the Spirit sunk—there’d be no bounty if there were no bodies and no survivors to make an example of. If Dream wanted his crew to make it out of this, there was no room for mercy. They had to sink the bounty hunters’ ship.

On the deck of the enemy ship, sailors started throwing ropes with hooks at the ends, seizing the Spirit’s side to try and keep it from escaping. Drawing his black cavalry sabre, Dream hacked the ropes, standing at the ready in case the enemy crew tried to board. They fired another volley of shots—but just as Dream had been hoping, their cannons were too high. One snapped through the Spirit’s rigging, but the hull was undamaged, and the Spirit could still return fire safely. “Close quarters!” Dream yelled. “Pack the double-shot! Keep firing!”

On the enemy ship, a tall man in red raised their own voice, barking orders just as Dream did. “Gunners, to the carronade! All free hands, ready to board!” they called. On cue, several of the bounty hunters sprang into action, leaping the gap or swinging on ropes to land on the Spirit’s deck.

Dream cursed under his breath. One of the sailors had the misfortune to land between Dream and the Spirit’s edge. He punched them in the face with his free hand—caught off guard, they toppled into the water. Dream stuck the blade of his sword between his teeth, freeing up both hands to whip out the flintlock pistols.

He crouched and ran, narrowly avoiding a bullet to the neck. He hurled himself at the sailor who’d shot at him, leaping up to drive his knee into her stomach, knocking her back before shooting her in the chest. Another sailor, tall and burly, lunged for Dream with a wickedly sharp falchion. Dream lunged back, clenching his teeth when the falchion bit deep into his arm. He fired his second pistol into the man’s face.

Dream dropped both pistols onto the deck. They could only hold a bullet each, and there was no time to reload in the heat of battle.

Below, two more cannon shots fired. He had to keep the enemy crew busy until Tina could sink them.

A gunshot narrowly brushed past Dream, so close it rustled his hair. Dream spun around just in time to see an enemy sailor fall from a rope, hitting the deck with a sickening crack, a nasty dagger rolling out from his hand. Over at the helm, Callahan flashed Dream a roguish grin, tucking away his own pistol before signing ‘You’re welcome.’

“Shot the carronade!” The enemy captain yelled. Dream took a few steps back so he could see up onto the enemy ship. They seemed to have given up on boarding, turning their efforts to readying a smaller short-range cannon on The Frontrunner’s deck. Even with the unpredictability of cannons, that much fire at that short of a range could take out the Spirit’s main mast. 

Spitting blood from between his teeth, Dream sheathed his sabre, pulling one of Captain Puffy’s iron hand grenades and a book of matches from his coat pocket. He lit the fuse and took off sprinting across the deck. He leaped off the Spirit, running a few steps up the bulwark of the Frontrunner. Gravity began to tug at Dream, but just before he fell, he chucked the hand grenade at the group of sailors gathered around the cannonade.

He landed hard on the edge of the Spirit, barely managing to lock his hand around the railings to stop himself from dropping into the sea. He nimbly scrambled back up, dragging himself onto the ship.

The grenade exploded, followed by screaming and the sound of splintered wood. It wasn’t enough of a blast to sink a ship, but it was enough to buy time and raise hell—and it did.

Below the Spirit’s decks, another pair of shots rang out, the impacts striking harder than before. Aboard The Frontrunner, the bounty hunter captain cried out, “Fall back! Boats in the water, row for land!”

Dream stumbled to his feet, grinning. “Enemy’s taking on water! Pull fire, all hands on deck! Callahan, get us the hell out of here!” Punz, and Skeppy all ran up onto the deck, the latter immediately taking up position to help work the sails. Punz sprinted over to Dream, putting an arm around his shoulders to help him stand. “You’re gonna see Quackity  about those injuries, right?”

Dream shook his head, taking a deep breath. “I’ve had worse. The adrenaline keeps the worst of it at the edge of my mind, we can make repairs to the ship and crew once we’re a safe distance away. Where’s Tina and Tommy?”

“Cleaning the cannons, packing the gunpowder, and staying ready in case the bounty hunter ship tries to fire on us again,” Punz said. “They’ll be on deck shortly.”

Dream laughed breathlessly, pulling away from Punz’s support. He winced a bit—he must have twisted his ankle after falling back against the Spirit. It would have to wait. “We aren’t in the clear yet. Go help the others get us to full sail. We lost some rigging so we need all the hands we can get.”

Punz nodded. “Yes sir.” They paused a bit, then smiled slightly. “And well done dealing with that fight, Captain. Your mother will be proud.”

Dream stared at him for a moment, his thoughts drifting. He wasn’t the Captain’s son, not really. Even if he meant well, he’d stolen her ship, and now it turned out he’d dragged Tommy into danger too. Was that someone to be proud of?  “Well,” he said slowly, recollecting himself, “We got lucky this time. There’s still a risk of bigger crews and better ships coming after us. As well as things turned out today, we have to keep in mind it’s only going to get worse.”

Punz’s smile softened. “The Spirit of Adventure has the best crew on the sea, and a damn good captain. We can take on what comes next.” They stopped, their smile dropping into a grimace. “Though, first we’re going to need to do some, uh… cleaning up.”

Dream glanced at the two dead bounty hunters on the deck, frowning. “Best we throw those overboard. Nowhere else to put them, no chance of getting them back to their crew for a burial,” he said, shaking his head. “As for repairs, we’ll leave Quackity to plug the ship’s hull, and I’ll put Tommy to work on fixing the rigging.”

Punz bit their lip, looking down at their feet. “Right, about Tommy,” they said awkwardly. “Truth is, he bribed me to let him on the ship about ten minutes before you came with the letter for Captain Puffy. No point in hiding it now that you found him.”

Dream took a deep breath. “Fuck, Punz. He’s a kid. What if he gets himself killed?”

“He’s been on the Spirit since he was a baby, and you’ve been fighting on here since you were younger than he is now,” Punz said. “I thought it was fine.”

Dream sighed. “If I’m going to establish myself as captain, I can’t ignore that you've done this,” he said firmly. “I’ll let you off with a warning, and a month of killing rats in the bilge.”

Punz groaned, pulling a face. “God, the bilge is gross. This wasn’t worth a bribe.” They walked off to help Skeppy untangle one of the sail lines, leaving Dream to himself.

He turned around, looking back at The Forerunner. It was going down slowly, the surviving crew quickly piling into smaller rowboats in the hopes of making it to shore. It wasn’t his first time seeing bloodshed, or even having the blood on his own hands.

He’d grown up on a pirate ship, and even before then, he’d seen his share of lives lost. Now, though, it was on his shoulders. Every ship raided would be his choice, every life lost a price paid for the sake of the Spirit’s crew. It was a burden Captain Puffy had never confessed to him, even as she shared everything else she had. When Dream took the Spirit he’d worried he wasn’t ready to be captain.

He’d been right. He wasn’t ready. But that was going to have to change.

Chapter Text

The Spirit of Adventure was soaked in blood. Swords clashed, gunfire rang out over shouts and screams, and now and then, a body would crash down against the deck and stop moving.  Dream stared at the battle in horror, gripping the hilt of his pocket knife so tightly his hands shook. He’d known going to sea wasn’t an escape, was likely far more dangerous than living alone on the streets, but for the first time, it was staring him in the face.

Blocking out the sun, a brilliant red coat dashed in front of Dream, raising a black ram-horn sabre to deflect an incoming blow. The Captain looked over her shoulder at Dream, her eyes fierce and wild. “Grab Pandas and get below deck!” She yelled. Even as blow after blow came towards her, she stood her ground, a scarlet wall of fury standing between Dream and danger.

Blinking back tears, Dream grabbed Pandas’ hand, dragging his best friend down the stairs. The gun deck is empty, all the gunners up on the deck trying to help fight off the attackers. Still, there’s no place to hide. Dream dragged Pandas down another flight of stairs into the hold.

“Dream, wait,” Pandas cried, stumbling as he tried to keep up. “What’s going on?”

Dream squeezed his friend’s hand tightly. “Bad guys are attacking the ship,” he said, looking around the crowded room of crates and barrels.

Pandas sniffled, wiping at his eyes and shuffling closer to Dream. “Why? What do we do?” he asked.

“The bad guys want to take the stuff on our ship. We have to hide while the Captain fights them off,” Dream said, hurrying over to a large crate. He threw his whole body into it, managing to push it a few inches, clearing a tiny space behind it, beneath another crate stacked on top of several large oak barrels. If they squeezed, there’d be barely enough room for both of them, out of sight of the stairs into the hold. He crawled in first, hugging his knees to his chest. A splinter from one of the barrels dug into his arm, but he stayed where he was. “We can hide in here until it's safe.”

Pandas squeezed in with him, curling up next to Dream. “Are they gonna kill us?” he whispered.

Dream shook his head fervently. “The Captain will keep everyone safe,” he said determinedly, trying to convince himself too. “And if any of the bad guys come down here, we can protect each other. I promise,” he said, holding out his pinkie.

Pandas stuck out his own little finger, locking it around Dream’s in a pinkie promise. “Okay,” he said. “We stick together, like always.”

“Like always,” Dream echoed.

They sat there a long time, their knees pressed tightly together, curled up in a den of shadow and splinters. For once, both boys were quiet, listening intensely to the overhead sounds of pound footsteps and crossing swords. They could have been down there a few seconds or a few hours, but in Dream’s memory, the incident would stretch out seemingly endlessly, as though the end they were waiting for would never come.

The fighting begin to die down, not in the sense of peace being made, but in the sense that those who could fight had been slowly picked off. Something—or maybe someone—fell down the flight of stairs above. Wooden steps creaked as heavy footsteps dragged themself into the hold. The scent of gunpowder and blood slowly filled the room. Panda clasped his hands over his mouth, and Dream tried to hold his breath. The person in the hold coughed, a nasty, heavy, hacking noise. It was deeper and grittier than the voice of any member of the Spirit’s crew. Dream grabbed Panda’s arm, squeezing it tightly—whether to comfort his friend or himself, he didn’t know.

The heavy footsteps shuffled closer, stepping in view of the boys’ hideout. A looming naval officer stood in the dim light, his blue uniform stained dark shades of black and red. His jaw was crooked, visibly broken, and he moved with a limp, trailing blood behind him. Dream tried to scoot closer to Pandas, to be sure neither of them were seen—only to knock over a loose barrel. The navy man whipped around to look at them, his eyes wide and bloodshot. He took a step closer to them, his hand wrapped tightly around a long bloody sword, lip curled back in a sneer. “Filthy ship rats!” The man snarled, raising the sword above Dream and Pandas. “May everyone on this damned ship rot in hell!“

Dream and Pandas held each other tight. Dream buried his face in his friend’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut as tears began to fall. Instead of pain, however, there was the sound of gunfire.

The man lurched forward, the sword slipping from his fingers. It fell harmlessly to the ground beneath him. He stared down; through Dream and Pandas, through the ship and the sea, down to the depths of hell below. He reached up, his fingers brushing the bloodied hole in the center of his head, a faint trail of smoke curling through it. Finally, the man collapsed, slamming down on top of the two boys.

“Dream, Pandas!” The man’s body was pulled off of them. Standing in his place was the Captain. She’s bruised and bloodied, her nose looks to have been broken in at least two separate places, and she’s crying—Dream realized with a start it was the first time he’d seen the woman cry. She drops her pistol, throwing her arms around the two boys, hugging them tightly. “God, you’re okay, you’re both okay,” she whispered. She gently stroked Dream’s hair, kissing him on top of his head. “It’s safe now.”

Eventually, she pulled away, not quite letting go of either of them yet. She smiled, though even as young as he was Dream could see the way the smile didn’t reach her eyes, the lines of exhaustion darkening her face. “I’m going to take you two up to my cabin so you get some rest, alright?” She said, brushing the bangs out of Panda’s eyes. “But I need you boys to do something for me. While I carry you up there, I want you to squeeze your eyes shut as tight as you can, and pinch your noses shut, okay?”

The boys both nodded quietly, both too tired to consider arguing. Dream laid his head on Puffy’s shoulder as she scooped him up, grabbing the lapel of her coat with one hand. He closed his eyes before she even started moving, eager to not have to look at the dead man any longer. When she started walking, he squeezed his eyes shut, pinching his nose like he was told. After a day like today, he wasn’t particularly inclined to be rebellious. All he wanted was to go to sleep and wake up in a world where things were okay.

He heard Captain Puffy walk back up to the main deck, then through the door into the captain’s cabin. Taking that to mean it was okay to look, Dream let go of his nose and opened his eyes—just a bit too early.

The air smelled of iron, sulphur, and death. He could almost taste the gunpowder in the air, but it wasn’t nearly so bad as the blood, vile enough to make him retch.

He got a brief glimpse of the deck over Captain Puffy’s shoulder before the door swung shut. The deck was painted red, and the few people who still stood seemed shaky on their feet. Far more lay on the deck, bodies broken and unmoving. Many of the dead were navy men, but near as many were the bodies of people Dream knew. Crew of the Spirit, sailors who had taught him about life at the sea, people who cared for him like family. He caught a Tina, soaked in blood, burying her face in her hands and sobbing. He saw Callahan, uncharacteristically solemn as he threw the bodies of navy men over the ship’s edge. The faces of the people he loved, all somewhere between lifeless and mourning. Then the door swung shut and the sight was gone.

Captain Puffy gently set Dream and Pandas down in her cot, giving each of them another kiss on the head. “I need to go help the crew clean up,” she said softly, peeling off her captain’s coat, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt underneath to show her biceps, lacerated with cuts and gunshot scars. “Can you boys promise to stay in here until I come get you?”

Pandas nodded, and after swallowing the vomit in his throat, so did Dream. Captain Puffy nodded too, before turning to leave the cabin, standing between the boys and the door as she left to try and shield them from the sight outside.

“When I’m all grown up, I’m going to kill the bad guys,” Pandas said sullenly, wiping his eyes. “I hate them. I hate them for hurting us.”

Dream leaned on Pandas, holding his best friend tightly. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, more for his own sake this time. “We have each others’ backs. We’ll fight them together.”

Pandas nodded. “We’ll keep each other safe,” he agreed, holding out his little finger. They locked their fingers together, sealing their promise as they sat together, waiting out the storm of death outside.

Dream jolted awake, his heart beating wildly. He looked around, taking a moment to get his surroundings, struggling to get back to the present. It looked as though he’d fallen asleep at the desk of the captain’s cabin. The map he’d been using to chart a course south towards Kinoko was crumpled where he’d been laying on it. Trying to smooth out the wrinkles, Dream realized what woke him. Someone was knocking at the door.

Dream rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Come in,” he said loudly, running a hand through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to make himself look more presentable.

“Sorry to interrupt, but what with the hole in the ship I kinda got distracted and forgot you got stabbed,” Quackity said as he walked in, a bag over his shoulder and a drink in his hand. He bent down to pick up a fallen map, setting both it and the metal cup on the desk. “With all due respect, you look like hell. How’re you feeling?”

Dream grimaced. “Could be worse. My foot’s only bad when I put weight on it, and the cut in my chest is more or less healed over,” he said, sitting upright. He ought to get on mending that hole since he only had two shirts to begin with. “It’s better. Only hurts when I touch it. Or, you know, breathe too much.”

Quackity eyed the gash in his chest doubtfully. “The fact that it isn’t actively gushing blood doesn’t mean it’s healed, mierda. Take off your damn shirt so I can get a bandage on you. And drink some of that, too,” he said, nodding towards the cup he’d brought in.

“What is it, medicine?” Dream asked, shrugging off his jacket so he could unlace the collar of his undershirt.

“Better,” Quackity said, pulling a roll of cloth bandages out of his bag. “Booze. It’s something called bumbo my grandad gives the sailors at his bar. Grog, sugar, nutmeg, and a bit of lime. It should take your mind off the pain.”

Dream leaned forward, lifting his arms up as Quackity tightly wrapped bandages across his chest. “Probably gonna scar,” Quackity muttered as he tied the bandage off. “Not that you’ll notice, looks like you’ve already got plenty of those.”

Dream picked up the metal cup, knocking down a hearty gulp of the drink. It was sweeter than he expected, fresh and light despite the subtle burning of the alcohol. “Thanks, Q,” he said, setting his torn undershirt in his lap. 

Quackity smiled, using a pocket knife to cut the loose ends of the bandage. “Eyyy, don’t mention it, man.” He put his things back in the bag, sitting on the edge of the desk. “Punz also said you hurt your foot, but I don’t really know what to do about that. Best I can say is if it’s just sprained rest it—but if it’s like, broken or something, you’re gonna need a real surgeon, not a carpenter.”

“Speaking of carpentry,” Dream said, setting down his cup. “How’s that hole?”

Quackity grinned mischievously. “The cannon hole, or—“

“The cannon hole,” Dream cut him off, snorting. “Don’t be gross.”

Quackity smiled, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. “It’s sturdy, and although there’s no knowing until we get a storm, I’d bet my handiwork is watertight too. Next time we stop in a harbor I’m gonna need more nails, though.”

Dream grabbed a stray scrap of paper and a pen, quickly dipping it in ink and scrawling a note to himself. “I’ll put that in the budget, but it might be a couple of weeks,” he said.

“That said,” Quackity said, pulling out a flask and taking a quick drag, “The crew’s celebrating our getaway on the deck. You should come out with us, last I heard Punz was about to humiliate Tommy in a game of checkers.”

Dream chuckled. “Somebody better go get involved or Tommy’s going to try and throw Punz’s pieces in the ocean when they aren’t looking,” he said, smiling absentmindedly. He glanced over at one of the small port windows on the side of the cabin. By the look of the sky, it was late afternoon. He wasn’t sure how much of the time since the morning he’s spent working and how much he spent dreaming about the past.

Click. Dream turned around to see Quackity place a silver piece-of-eight on the desk, sliding it towards him like a bartender sliding a drink down a table. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Dream managed a small smile, shaking his head. “Just… thinking, I guess,” he said, staring into his cup. “The Spirit of Adventure had a really bad run-in with the navy when I was young. The only people from the crew back then were Tina, Callahan, and the Captain. A few others survived and died in other battles or even retired, but most of them…” Dream took a deep breath. “With the bounty on the Spirit, I can’t help but feel like it could happen again, and I still won’t be able to do anything.”

Quackity nodded quietly. “Dream, you should know more than anyone what they say about this life,” he said, nodding towards the door. “‘A short life, but a merry one.’ Like… we’re criminals, man. You kinda have to learn to live with having a time limit hanging over your head.”

Dream looked back out the window at the sea. “I can’t think like that,” he said, standing up from the desk. I can’t live my life waiting for my family to die. I’ll outrun the law, I’ll outrun time, I’ll outrun death itself if that’s what it takes. I’m not losing anyone else.”

Chapter Text

Dream raised the spyglass to his eye, focusing in on the small coastal city of Lemontree. “Tommy, hoist the Dies Empiea flag,” he ordered. “Quackity, hang the fishing nets over the ship’s name. Remember, if the dockmaster asks, we’re sailing aboard The Desert Totem as part of a private trading charter. Callahan has a fake contract and ship permit, and there’s a copy of each in the captain’s cabin too. We’ll be in town less than a day. If the dockmaster gets too pushy, I set aside some gold for you to use as a bribe.”

“You worry too much Dreamie!” Tina said brightly. “Lemontree is a great port. Did you know they’re the leading researchers into scurvy prevention?”

Dream collapsed his spyglass, tucking it in his coat pocket. “I’m not worried,” he said, worriedly. “I’m just trying to be cautious. We’re public enemy number one, Tina.”

Tina bounced up on her tiptoes, smiling. “No, the pirate captain of the Spirit of Adventure is public enemy number one! We’re just humble merchants restocking for a journey home, nothing suspicious about that!”

That got a small smile out of Dream. “Fair enough. Callahan! Bring us in! Punz, Tommy, you’re joining me on shore. Skeppy, Big Q, get the ship moored.”

“I get to go ashore too?” Tommy said eagerly, his eyes shining with excitement. He quickly cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “I mean, it’s obvious innit, a captain can’t go anywhere without his right hand man.”

Dream rolled his eyes, ruffling Tommy’s hair. “Punz is my right hand man. You’re coming along because I don’t trust you to be out of my sight for even an hour,” he said teasingly.

Tommy rose to the bait immediately, and he bickered and yelled the whole way into the harbor, nearly half an hour straight. Once the Spirit began to sail parallel with the dock, however, Tommy quickly forgot his annoyance, eagerly jumping off the moving ship onto the dock. Tina seemed to like the idea, because with a cute little “Woop!” she hopped down after him.

Dream smiled, shaking his head. “God, I don’t know how Captain Puffy had the patience for this,” he said.

Punz smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Were you really as bad as Tommy?”

Dream grinned, stepping up onto the edge of the ship. “When I was twelve like him? I was worse.” He leapt off, landing with a roll so he could avoid putting unnecessary weight on his sprained foot. (And maybe, just a little bit, to show off.) Punz wasn’t too far behind, joining them with a light hop down.

“Alright,” Dream said, straightening up. “Food is low on the priority list today. With the supplies from Foolish, we can sail for another week and a half without stopping. If we dig into the cured meat and hardtack, maybe a month or two.”

Tommy groaned. “God, Dream, please don’t make us eat the worm-castles,” he begged. “They’re literally the most putrid shit I’ve ever put in my mouth. Flog me, hang me, keelhaul me if you have to, but don’t make me eat another rock-solid bug biscuit.”

Dream frowned, crossing his arms. “Hardtack is a staple of ship life, Tommy!” he said. “It’s cheaper than dirt and can last for years without spoiling! Besides, I never understood why people call them worm-castles. It’s weevils that burrow inside, not worms, and they can be a great source of protein when the meat runs out. They’re one of the most efficient foods money can buy.”

Punz gagged, and Tina shuddered. She gave Dream a gentle pat on the arm, shaking her head. “No offense, Dreamie, but I think I’m with Tommy on this one. If I never have to eat hardtack ever again, it’ll be way too soon.”

“Honestly, no respect for practicality,” Dream muttered. He started to walk as he talked, leading the group up through the harbor towards the colorful city. “What we need to focus on finding is nails, some more rope, spare sailcloth, more cannon-shot, and a surgeon for hire.”

Punz tipped their head to the side curiously. “Do you think they’ll have one in Lemontree? Seems a bit small for that.”

Dream sighed. “Probably not. And even if they do, real doctors tend not to be interested in our line of ‘business.’ I’d probably have to omit that until we were far from land,” he said. The idea made his stomach turn, but if that’s what it took to care for his crew, he’d do it. “For now, let’s just focus on buying supplies. They should have everything for sale at the wharf since it’s all seafaring equipment anyway.”

Tommy huffed, kicking a pebble over the stone steps leading up out of the quay. “Why didn’t you warn me we were getting off the ship to do more chores?” He complained.

“If you’d rather go help Skeppy try and scrape barnacles off the hull, be my guest,” Dream said drily. “See, this is why I can’t leave you alone. You’d tell Callahan you were bored, and he’d take you to go burn down a tavern or something.”

“Killjoy,” Tommy muttered.

As they reached the top of the steps, the city of Lemontree opened up before them. The lively streets along the harbor were mostly filled by fishmongers and sailors with a day to spend ashore, all milling about in search of business and pleasure. The streets were paved with yellow sandstone tiles, with shells and sand packed into the grout, and worn roughly from the thousands of footsteps passing every day. Red and yellow bunting hung between buildings and lampposts, fluttering in the ocean breeze. In full sight of the wharf, there was a large plaza; at the center was a planter housing a sprawling tree with beautiful spindly white flowers. A statue of the town’s founder sat at the foot of the tree, as if reclining in the shade. It was a welcoming city, large enough to care for itself but too small to have fallen prey to over-industrialization.

“Ohhhh I missed Lemontree!” Tina said brightly. “It was always one of my favorite places we docked. I wish we could stay longer!”

Tommy tipped his head to the side, thinking. “Foolish said he used to live here, right? Back before he made his business and built Sandberg Cove and everything,” he said.

Dream nodded, feeling a small pang in his chest—homesickness, not for a place, but for the company of Foolish and Captain Puffy. “Yeah, he did. Puffy didn’t get to meet him until about two or three years before you came aboard,” he said. Shaking off the gentle weight of the past, he focused on reading the various shop signs. They were here on business, after all. The quicker they were back on the ship, the safer the crew would be. “Punz, you take Tommy to buy nails, rope, and sailcloth from the shipwright,” he said, throwing Punz a small pouch of coin.

Punz caught it in one hand, saluting with the other. “Aye aye, Captain,” they said with a smile. “Hey Tommy, if you help me carry everything, I’ll buy you a new sheath for your pocket knife,” they said, their eyes glinting mischievously.

Tommy let out a small ‘woop’ of excitement, grabbing Punz’s hand and practically dragging them down the wharf. “Don’t get into too much trouble you two!” Dream yelled, but they’d both already disappeared down a side street.

Tina giggled, poking Dream on the ribs playfully. “You know, I’d swear you’re normally the one who’s getting told that,” she teased. “Since when are you Mister Responsible? You’re turning into your mom.”

Dream groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Trust me, I’d rather be getting into trouble too,” he said.

“Well the day is still young!” Tina said brightly. “There’s plenty of time for that. First, though, you need to help me buy some more cannon-shot. It’s a shame Foolish doesn’t stock it in Sandberg! Though I suppose it doesn’t really fit into the whole ‘architecture and trade’ business model he’s got going on.” She led him down the street, stopping outside a little storefront with a painted sign of a cannon hanging outside. Tina pulled a small pouch of coin out of her satchel, hefting it in her hand. “I might be haggling for a bit. You stay here, I’m gonna need your help carrying it all!” She told Dream before stepping inside the shop, a bell ringing as the door swung shut behind her.

Dream leaned up against the storefront, crossing his arms and glancing up and down the wharf, keeping an eye out for any sign of danger. It was easy to lose sight of that sort of thing in a place already so filled with people. But no one seemed to pay him mind, and from what he could see of the harbor, nothing was on fire. After a few moments, though, he did notice the wanted board.

He crossed the street, ducking past pedestrians, looking over the large board with nervous curiosity. There were fliers calling for various thieves and muggers that frequented the harbor, but far and away, most of the wanted posters were for pirates. Some had specific names, some just listed whole crews, many had detailed sketches copied from first-hand witness accounts.

There was one exception, a wanted poster with a silhouette where a sketch would be, several copies of it tacked to the board in the hopes someone would take up the bounty. ‘For the mysterious captain of the infamous pirate ship ‘ Spirit of Adventure.’’

Dream glanced around, fighting the paranoia that someone would see him and immediately know. There was no face to the title, not even a proper name, and ships coming and going in smaller harbors rarely got a thorough inspection. He was safe, despite every fight-or-flight instinct trying desperately to convince him otherwise. He took a deep breath, glancing around for something to take his mind off of it until Tina was done.

He noticed a little boy sitting on the edge of the street in ragged clothes, drawing on the wall with a crumbly scrap of chalk. Most people ignored the boy, and looking around, there was no sign of parents nearby. Dream walked over to the little boy, crouching down next to him. “Hi. What’re you drawing?”

The little boy looked up at him warily. “Soldiers,” the boy said cautiously. He seemed skittish given the attention from an unfamiliar adult. ‘Good,’ Dream thought. ‘He’s smart.’

“Is your dad a soldier?” Dream asked patiently. It was a weighted question. Honestly, the boy’s life was none of his business—but Dream remembered all too well what it was like to be alone in a big city, with nothing but the tattered clothes on your back and no one to look out for you.

“He was,” the little boy said. “I live with just mum now.”

Good, not an orphan then. Dream pointed at the piece of chalk the little boy was holding. “Can I buy your chalk?” he asked.

The little boy looked down at his chalk, frowning. “It’s the only thing my mum could afford me to play with,” he said. “You can have it for. . . three pieces of eight.”

It’d be a ridiculous price for a single stick of chalk, let alone a dirty stub. Dream reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small handful of coins. “Cup your hands,” he said patiently. “We don’t want bad guys to see your money and try to take it, okay?” The boy stuck the chalk in his pocket, holding his hands out in front of him. Checking to make sure no one was watching, Dream emptied a half dozen gold coins into the boy’s hands.

The boy’s eyes went as wide as bright twin moons, staring at the gold like he hadn’t seen so much money in all his life. He probably hadn’t. He looked up at Dream, his shock melting into confusion. “I don’t have more chalk, mister,” he said.

“That’s for the one piece,” Dream said, smiling. “Take that home to your mom, alright? Tell her to use some of it to get you an apprenticeship—while you’re training you get free room and board, and you’ll learn a trade that makes decent money.”

The little boy nodded fervently, shoving the coins into his pockets. He was quick to give Dream the chalk, taking off down an alleyway like he was afraid Dream might change his mind. “Good luck,” Dream said quietly, smiling to himself as he stood up. Maybe Tina was right. Maybe he was becoming more like Captain Puffy.

There were few people he’d rather be like.

Dream glanced down at the boy’s rough chalk drawing of men with hats and guns, and big smiling faces. He glanced back over at the wanted board. He walked back to it, tossing the chalk stub back and forth between his hands. With a quick check around to make sure no one was paying him any mind, he drew a big lopsided smile over the silhouetted wanted poster for the captain of the Spirit, signing it, “FUCK THE NAVY.” It looked absurd. Dream grinned.

“Aww, what a cute smiley face!” Tina popped up behind Dream, clapping her hands together with delight. “Oh my goodness, it looks just like the ones you carved all over the boat when you were little. I’m not interrupting, am I?”

Dream laughed sheepishly, shoving the last crumbly bit of chalk in his jacket pocket. “No, no, you’re fine. Did you get the cannon-shot?”

Tina nodded enthusiastically, pointing over at a shopkeep stacking several small wooden crates painted ‘S&C Trading Co.’ outside their door. “Yup, sure did! They had some great stuff. The chain-shot is some real tough high-quality stuff, and I got some langrage free because I was buying bulk!” She picked up three of the wooden crates, grunting under the effort. “You grab the other two boxes and the tinder bag,” she said.

“Are you sure you don’t want to carry the tinder bag?” Dream asked, eyeing Tina’s load.

Tina beamed cheerily. “That’s awful sweet of you Dreamie, but just because you’re taller doesn’t mean you’re stronger. I work the canons all day! I’m tougher than I look.”

Nodding, Dream walked over to pick up his half of the load. He barely got it off the ground, staggering. “Fuck! How much do these weigh?”

“There’s about ten ammunition to a crate,” Tina said, starting down the street as if she were just going on a walk with a particularly heavy book. Dream did his best to keep up despite the weight. “If we were carrying plain cannonballs right now it'd probably be about a hundred pounds each crate, but the specialty shot should weigh a little less than that!”

Making a mental note to never doubt Tina again and avoid making her mad at all costs, Dream followed Tina down the winding harbor street, taking deep sharp breaths to keep from dropping the crates. “Alright,” he wheezed between breaths. “Given our situation we can’t afford to stay ashore for leisure, so we just need to meet back up with—“

“Dream! Tina!” A short way down the street, pedestrians started jumping out of the way before they could be barreled over. Skeppy sprinted full-sail up the street. Anyone who wasn’t quick enough to move got shoved out of his way. His shoulder hit a lemon merchant’s cart, knocking it to the flagstones and spilling yellow fruit everywhere. He didn’t even slow down, skidding to a stop in front of Dream and Tina, panting for breath. “We gotta go,” he said, gasping as he bent over double.

Dream glanced down the wrecked street, wincing. So much for keeping a low profile. “Skeppy,” he said sharply, speaking in a low tone so the wary passersby couldn’t overhear. “What’s going on?”

Skeppy righted himself, genuine panic flashing across his face. “There’s a squadron of ships sailing into the harbor,” he said. “Two flying navy flags, one’s a privateer. Callahan said there’s no reason for them all to show up at once unless they’re looking for us.”

Like a sudden turn in the winds, Dream felt his blood run cold. Unless there was a war, few battling ships would stop in a port like Lemontree. It couldn’t be a coincidence they pulled in only hours after the Spirit. But how? There was no way to track a ship you couldn’t see, and he couldn’t imagine them predicting the crew would dock here with no clues to follow.

There’d be time to speculate later. He shoved his armload into Skeppy’s arms. Skeppy staggered back, nearly tumbling over under the weight. “Tina, Skeppy, get down to the ship as fast as you can and start preparing to cast off,” Dream ordered. Without another word, he took off down the street, running as hard and as fast as he could. He had to find Tommy and Punz. If they didn’t leave now, the whole crew would be executed by sundown.

Holding onto the brim of his hat, Dream took a sharp turn down the side street he’d seen Punz and Tommy take. It splintered off into several different lanes and neighborhoods, leading deeper and deeper into a wild urban sprawl. Dream looked around frantically, trying to guess which street to take.

There—the sign of an anchor, hung outside a humble looking storefront near the end of one of the more well-walked streets. Dream sprinted down the street, dodging around pedestrians and leaping over a pile of crates, headed straight for the shop. He ripped the door open.

Thank whatever gods were out there, it was the right shop. Startled, Punz quickly turned away from the bolt of sailcloth they’d been considering, reaching for their gun out of habit. At the sight of Dream, they seemed to relax. “Captain? What’s going on?”

“We need to leave,” Dream said, shooting a wary glance at the shopkeep. “There’s been an issue with the trade charter and we need to get back to our home port as soon as possible to make it right.” It was a shoddy lie, but it was the best he could come up with on the spot.

Punz’s brow furrowed in concern. “Is it an emergency?” They asked. Despite their well controlled tone, Dream caught a glimpse of worry in their eyes. “We were just about to negotiate on prices for sailcloth.”

Dream shook his head. “There’s no time to lose. We’ll have to wait until we get back,” he said.

Punz nodded. They tossed a small handful of coin to the shopkeep. “Keep the change,” they said, grabbing a box of nails and a coil of rope off the counter and throwing them to Tommy.

The three of them all hurried out into the street, Dream leading them quickly down the road, glancing back to make sure both Punz and Tommy stayed close and no one followed.

“I hate to be the one to point it out,” Tommy said, running to keep up. “But we don’t have a fucking trade charter. What’s going on?”

“Three ships,” Dream said curtly. They burst out back onto the main dockside road, and he quickly led them back to the steep stone wharf stairs. “Two navy, one privateer.”

Punz’s eyes went wide, and they looked out at the harbor, trying to pick out the flags of the incoming ships. “Do you think they’re here for us?”

Dream nodded, keeping a fast pace once they hit the wooden docks. “It’s too much of a coincidence. It’s a busy harbor, though. People come and go all the time. If we’re smart, we might be able to slip right past them.” Even as he said it, he felt uncertainty pooling in his gut. They’d have to move quickly without seeming panicked, and if the navy ships decided to stop them for an interrogation, they were almost certainly dead.

“Tommy,” Dream said, “I want you up in the rigging getting the ship ready to sail. If we get boarded, get to the bilge. If anyone you don’t know finds you down there, you tell them you were kidnapped from Sandberg Cove. Punz, if we get a chance to lie our way out, you’re the first mate on our tradeship.”

Tommy clutched the box of nails tightly to his chest, frowning. “If they attack the crew I want to fight too!” He insisted. “I’m not selling anyone out!”

Dream stopped at the foot of the Spirit’s gangplank, turning sharply on heel. He grabbed Tommy by the collar of his shirt and yanked him up so their eyes met. “Tommy,” Dream said sharply. “You’re only a kid. If anyone gets to you in the bilge, we’re probably all dead already. So you’ll tell them whatever you have to to stay alive, or I’m leaving you here on the docks. Do I make myself clear?”

“Fuck you!” Tommy spat. “You don’t get to die and leave me behind.”

Dream tightened his grip on Tommy, staring him deep in the eyes. His stare was cold and harsh. He felt Tommy shy away slightly. “I don’t plan on dying. But if it all goes to hell, I need you to swear to me you’ll get back to Sandberg alive.”

Tommy hung his head, scowling. “Fine.” He turned and ran up the gangplank, scurrying up into the rigging and far above the ship.

Punz clapped Dream on the shoulder firmly. “We’ll make it out alive, Captain,” they said. “We’ve made it out of worse scrapes before.”

It was true. But then they’d had Captain Puffy leading. Now, it all lay on Dream’s shoulders. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” Dream said solemnly, marching up the gangplank with Punz shortly behind him.

The typical routine of readying the ship to take sail felt unnervingly slow with the threat of the three enemy ships slowly drawing closer. Although Dream kept moving, pacing the deck to make sure they were ready for a quick and discreet exit, his brisk pace felt like wading through an ocean of tar. The anchor was pulled in, the dock lines were cast, and the country’s flag still flew high in a false pledge of loyalty. Everyone worked quickly, and besides the call-and-response to keep work moving, were quiet too. Dream was sure they were all suffocating beneath the same thick blanket of unease as the ship slowly made a wide turn away from the dock.

The quay was small, and since the Spirit was leaving as the three enemy ships arrived, they’d have to sail close to pass each other. Nothing was more important than a false sense of calm. So long as the other ships believed them to be honest merchants, they had a chance at passing without so much as a question.

Dream joined Callahan by the helm, watching with quiet dread as the slowly began to pass alongside the small squadron. They moved by so closely he could make out the sailors on the decks of the other ships. He could even read the name of each, painted on their sides. The Champion, The Lone Crow, and The Manhunt. Three ships that would want nothing more than to see the Spirit’s crew dead.

Eternity seemed to creep by before the sterns of the boats passed. Dream breathed a sigh of relief as the Spirit of Adventure began moving out towards open waters. Despite everything, for just one moment, it seemed like they’d made it.

A crack split the air.

Without warning, The Manhunt turned and started to open fire.

Chapter Text

They did everything right. They were in the last stretch of the harbor before escaping out to sea. Dream stared at the ship firing on them, shellshocked. How could they have possibly been caught out?

He shook his head, snapping himself back to the present. Everyone aboard the Spirit was on the brink of panic. Dream, at least, had to be calm enough to get them out of here.

“Our cover’s blown!” He yelled, turning back to face his crew. “Damn the subtlety, we need full sail! Callahn, brace about!” He raised a hand to shade his eyes from the sun, looking up into the rigging. “All hands to the sheet lines!”

Tina ran up from below deck, hurrying over to Dream’s side with a rushed salute. “Cannon-shot’s been stowed, Dream sir,” she said breathlessly. “Do we need to standby to return fire?”

Dream glanced back at the Lemontree port. The Manhunt had stopped firing so it could give chase, and the two navy ships were slowly turning to follow. “We wouldn’t stand a chance in a gunfight against those bigger ships, but we’re faster. We need to outrun them,” he said, furrowing his brow. “If the privateer ship is fast enough to keep up with us, we’ll have no choice but to fight. Until then our first priority is going as far and fast as we can.”

Tina nodded, then dashed off to join the crew in tending the sails. Dream joined Callahan at the helm, head blurring as he desperately ran through their options.

Contrary to what the crown liked to believe, bigger military ships were hardly a counter for the schooners and sloops most pirates preferred. While navy man-of-wars were more than twice the size of the Spirit and had enough guns on board to destroy a small village, they lacked the speed and agility of any smaller ship. The real threat was The Manhunt. If it managed to get a few good shots, it could bring down the Spirit’s rigging, making them easy prey for the larger navy ships. It was like a rabbit caught in a hunting trap, left with nowhere to run when the fox came looking to eat.

Although the ships differed in size and make, by Dream’s best estimate The Manhunt was likely close to Spirit’s speed. They might be able to outrun the privateers, though it wouldn’t be enough to lose their trail. But if they stopped to fight now the heavily-armed navy ships would have time to catch up. What options did they have? Try and endure top-speeds longer than The Manhunt? Risk dying to exhaustion than to gunfire?

Dream took up position with his spyglass, watching as the port of Lemontree became smaller and smaller behind them, only The Manhunt remaining steadfastly close. The spyglass was roughly made and well-worn, so the details were hard to make out, but he still tried to focus in on the bridge of the enemy ship.

An hour passed. Then two. Slowly, surely, The Manhunt was gaining ground.

Dream walked up to the forecastle, raising his voice. “Punz! Tina! Center deck!” Both hurried over to meet up with him. They were both visibly sweaty and strained, breathing heavily, worry in their eyes. 

“Captain? What is it?” Tina asked. 

Dream took a deep breath, crossing his arms. “We can’t outrun the privateers. I have an idea, but its got a gale’s chance in hell of working.”

“Could we outrun them if we throw cargo overboard?” Punz suggested.

Dream shook his head. “They could drop their cargo too and keep pace. They can go back to harbor as soon as they’re finished with us and replace whatever they lose. It's not good enough.” He took a deep breath. “We can’t drop most of our supplies. But we can drop the barrels of rum.”

Tina bit her lip, rocking back on her heels. “I don’t know if that’ll be enough of a difference to let us escape,” she said worriedly.

“It won’t be,” Dream agreed. “But do you remember how Quackity tests to make sure merchants haven’t watered it down?”

Tina’s eyes widened. “He mixes it with gunpowder and sees if it can ignite,” she said, understanding dawning on her face.

Dream nodded. “If we pour gunpowder and oil into the rum barrels, they’ll burn. We could catch The Manhunt on fire, or at the very least force it to have to change course to sail around.”

Punz frowned, tapping their foot anxiously. “How are we supposed to ignite it after it’s off the ship?”

“We soak some ropes in rum and candle oil and tie them to barrels before we throw them overboard. If we can soak them enough—“

“They could burn on the water!” Tina finished, lighting up like a lighthouse.

Dream let out a small sigh of relief. He was only going off what scraps he’d learned about explosives from living on the ship. Hearing the explosives expert believe it was possible gave him a small shred of hope. “I’ll get Quackity to help me start knotting some rope. Punz, you go help Tina ready the rum barrels. Use whatever explosives we have. There’s no point saving ammunition if we don’t make it out of this alive,” he ordered.

The two ran down below deck, and Dream grabbed Quackity, dragging him over to help prepare a rope. With only Skeppy and Tommy manning the sails, The Spirit began to slow down, the gap between them and the privateers closing all too quickly.

‘If there are any gods out there,’ Dream thought as they worked, ‘Let this work.’

The Manhunt drew closer. They had twenty, maybe thirty minutes before it was close enough to launch an attack. It was near enough Dream could make out several of the men on the deck, likely the ship’s commanding officers. Minute by minute, the dread built like a wave growing taller and taller, threatening to crash down and drown them all.

A dark-haired man dressed in a red coat with white trim stood on the forecastle of The Manhunt, raising a large metal funnel to his mouth. When he spoke, his voice echoed out over the water. It rang with authority, furious and unyielding.

“Pirates of The Spirit of Adventure!” The man yelled. “You have a debt to Dies Empiea! You have two choices before you—go down with your ship, or, give us what we came for! Fly the white flag and hand over your captain. In return we let your ship sail free, just this once!”

A lesser crew would seize on the chance to spare their skins, immediately betraying their captain for a chance to escape. But it was not for might alone that The Spirit of Adventure had earned its infamy.

“They’re lying anyways, I’d bet,” Quackity told Dream, nudging him with his elbow. “Don’t even worry about it.”

Dream looked down at the rope they’d been rubbing with candle oil, a shudder running down his spine. “We need to consider all of our options,” he said firmly. “If Tina isn’t ready in time, or if this doesn't work—“

“We sink with the captain,” Punz said, walking up behind them and clapping a hand on Dream’s shoulder. “Besides, Q is right. The only man greedier than a pirate is a privateer. They wouldn’t let us sail free, not when they could get paid for seeing to it everyone aboard is hanged.”

“Did someone say Tina?” Tina said brightly, poking her head out from being Punz. “Our fiery cocktails should be ready! Those barrels of rum are so loaded with gunpowder it’s a safety hazard!”

Punz nodded. “We just need to roll them up from below decks then,” they said.

Dream took a deep breath, getting to his feet. “Alright, then. Let’s get this done.” The four of them went down to the gun decks, working together to carry the barrels. The sickly sweet smell of rum and the acrid smell of gunpowder made Dream’s stomach turn, but he kept his focus as he did his part in tying the barrels into a long line. Knotting one end of the rope to the back of the ship, he waved Punz over.

One by one, they started throwing the barrels over board. Each hit the water with a heavy splash, slowly floating away in the wake of the ship. They had seven barrels in total. As the rope unwound, Dream pulled the matchbox from his jacket pocket.

He took another deep breath. “Okay,” he muttered, striking a match. “Here we go.”

As soon as the oil-soaked rope caught fire, he cut the end attached to the ship. It fell down, fire soaring along the makeshift fuse like a burning serpent. The barrels made a nauseating crackling sound before they burst. A wall of flame cut across the water, separating the two ships.

The Manhunt’s crew sprang into action, trying to slow their ship before it could sail into the blaze. A few stray sparks caught light on the near side of the ship. If the crew coordinated, they’d put it out before it reached their gunpowder, but there was no distraction quite like imminent death. There would be time for the Spirit to catch the winds and escape.

In spite of himself, Dream split into a wide grin, breaking into a cackling wheezing laugh. “It worked! It actually worked!” he crowed. He turned around, shouting out, “Full sail! No time to waste, we’re out of here!” Before they could run off to help sail the ship, he quickly added, “Tina, Punz, Quackity—meet me in the cabin once we’re to safer waters.”

He turned back to face The Manhunt, pulling out his spyglass to watch the ship. They certainly seemed more focused on putting out the fire than giving chase. The other crew was frantic as they worked, scurrying about the deck. Through the smoke, Dream caught a glimpse of the dark haired man in the red coat, who he could only presume was the other ship’s captain.

The man didn’t look much older than Dream, though he looked much more natural in his role as leader. His features were blurry from the distance, but the anger on his face was impossible to miss. His coat almost seemed like flames themself through the soot and ash, his eyes wild like burning coals. Briefly, he turned Dream’s way.

The two captains stared each other down, their faces masked by the distance and smoke, known only to one another as the enemy.

Then, the moment passed, and the two ships parted. 

“Normally I’d suggest we all have a drink to celebrate,” Quackity said teasingly, leaning against the captain’s desk. “But it seems we’ll all be staying sober for a little while.”

Tina giggled, sitting down on Puffy’s old sea chest. “I still can’t believe that worked! Oh, I’d love to make more floating explosives like that,” she said, her tone almost dreamy as she considered the possibilities

Dream rolled a map of the local coast out on the desk, pinning each end down with one of Puffy’s various books and logs. “They tracked us to Lemontree, then turned back after their boat is burned,” he said. “Why?”

Tina paused, tipping her head to the side thoughtfully. “To get it repaired? Right? I didn’t think it was really mysterious or anything.”

Dream drummed his fingers on the desktop, frowning. “They have a larger crew than ours. No way they didn’t have at least one carpenter on board. Quackity, what’s your take?”

Quackity hummed thoughtfully. “I didn’t get a good look myself, but fire damage is a little tricky. It’s easier to replace than repair. Docking somewhere safe to get new parts is definitely ideal, but their ship didn’t look like it was about to sink or anything,” he said.

“That’s what I thought,” Dream said, sitting down in the captain’s chair, pouring over the map. “They probably still could have sailed fast enough to catch up to us. Instead, they turned back. They chose to lose our trail, and potentially give up on the biggest bounty ever set. Even if the trick with the burning barrels played out well, shouldn’t it have made it obvious we were on the ropes? Why give up now?”

Quackity shrugged. “Maybe the fire damage was worse than it looked.”

Tina kicked her legs. “Maybe they’re a bunch of scaredy-cats!”

“Maybe,” Punz said, realization dawning on their face, “They were certain they could find us again.”

Dream nodded. “At first I thought maybe they were being overly cautious, but with that bounty on the line, any crew would mutiny rather than give up so quickly. But if they’re absolutely confident their ship is fast enough to catch us again, and they know where we are, they can afford to play it safe,” he said.

Tina’s eyes went wide with disbelief. “You don’t mean they’re tracking us? But how!”

Dream grimaced, rubbing the bridge of his nose to try and fend off the oncoming migraine. “I don’t know. But it would explain how they found us in Lemontree too. We won’t know for sure unless they catch up to us again, though. For now, we stick to the original plan—try and outpace bounty hunters, and keep making a living.”

He straightened up, pointing at the map. “We’ll take the strait down into Kinoko Kingdom. The coast there is shallow, and dense with islands. It’s a good place to lose a tail.” They’d have better odds heading out into open uncharted waters where there were fewer landmarks to find them by, but there was another reason to go by way of Kinoko. It was a wealthy country with lax rules, so it was a favorite of merchants—and where merchants went, pirates soon followed. Most of the ship’s gold had been unloaded at Sandberg Cove, so the crew was going to need to get their hands on more funds if they were going to keep the ship stocked.

“I know a guy who owns a pretty quiet port,” Quackity said, bending over to look at the map. “If we pay him off he’d probably let us stop there for a night or two to recoup, though I doubt he’d have any spare supplies.”

“We’ll work out an exact route first thing tomorrow,” Dream decided, rolling the map back up. “For now, just keep in mind what we discussed, and if any of you come up with ideas as to how they might be tracking us, talk to me.” He put the map back in the desk, then paused, straightening up as the three crewmates opened the cabin door to leave. “Actually, there’s one last thing,” he said.

Tina smiled. “What’s up Dreamie?” she asked lightly.

Dream hesitated. “I’ve decided on a first mate,” he said, refusing to acknowledge the way his heart began to beat faster. “I can’t promise the position is permanent, since Captain Puffy is likely to step back in when her leg is better. But I need someone by my side I can trust.”

Quackity leaned forward curiously. “Yeah?”

Dream nodded. “I’ve been thinking it through since we left and… Punz. You’ve been close at hand whenever I need a second pair of eyes. You’re smart, and I’ve known you long enough to call you my friend. I’m still pissed about you letting Tommy on board, but if you can prove you’re trustworthy in spite of that, then I want you as my right hand man.”

Punz’s eyes lit up, and they broke into a brilliant smile, saluting eagerly. “Glad to be of service, Captain,” they said.

Standing up, Dream pushed the chair in. “You’re all dismissed. Punz, remind Skeppy it’s his turn on nightwatch. Sleep well, all of you.”

The door was shut, leaving Dream to himself and the empty captain’s cabin. He walked over to the large sprawling bed, sitting on top of the soft woolen quilt thrown over it. He picked at the stitches absentmindedly, staring out the window that looked out across the ship’s wake, the ocean view nearly black as the last rays of the sun dwindled into memory. It was strange, sitting here and being told it was a position of power, when it had been the closest thing he’d had to a childhood bedroom.

Dream let himself collapse into the bed. It wasn’t made of a fine down mattress or soft linen sheets like the guest beds in Foolish’s home. The fibers were coarse and rough, covered in hand-sewn patches. He felt more at home here, in the room where he’d grown up, where he could hear the sounds of the sea and the creaking of the ship all around him. He belonged to this life, just the same as a shark belonged to the sea.

The cabin door squeaked open. Dream quickly sat up, reaching for his sabre out of habit. But when he saw Tommy standing in the doorway, the tension vanished, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Hey. I haven’t seen you all day,” he said.

Tommy crossed the room, sitting on the captain’s bed next to Dream. “Been doing the rigging and shit.” He bent over, prying his boots off without undoing the laces. “You know me. Got to be the big man, making the ship go fast and saving the day. Women love a man who knows his ropes.”

Dream snorted, shaking his head. “God, you’re awful.”

Tommy didn’t meet Dream’s eyes as he chucked his boots onto the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. “Yeah.”

Dream’s smile dropped. “What do you mean ‘yeah?’” he asked seriously, turning to get a better look at Tommy.

Tommy stubbornly bit his lip, like he was fighting to stop the tears visible welling up in his eyes. “I was so mad,” he said sullenly. “When I heard you and Foolish talking about you going without me. And then today you said if they board the ship I should pretend you kidnapped me. I was so mad I didn’t think maybe you didn’t want me here because you didn’t like me anymore.”

Dream grabbed Tommy, pulling him close. He held onto Tommy as tightly as he could.  “Never,” he said firmly. “I would /never want you gone.” He closed his eyes, gently stroking Tommy’s hair like Puffy used to do for Dream when he was young. “I wasn’t mad at you today, Tommy. Not this time, at least. I was scared. All I wanted was to keep you safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re my family. My /brother. Losing you is the worst thing that could happen.”

“You mean it?” Tommy mumbled.

Dream squeezed Tommy tighter. “Yeah. I do.”

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” Tommy asked. “Not because I’m a kid or anything. I’m big. I’m  a big man. I just… I’m all used to listening to you snore while I fall asleep and it’d be weird ‘n’ quiet without it.”

Dream nodded. “Of course,” he said. “The captain’s bed is huge anyways.”

Tommy crawled under the blankets, curling up against Dream’s side. “G’night Big D,” he said quietly, soon drifting off to sleep.

Dream brushed the messy yellow hair out of Tommy’s eyes, laying down beside him. He probably wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while yet, but he’d be damned rather than keep his brother awake. “Night, dumbass,” he said quietly, letting himself finally, briefly, rest.