Archive of Our Own

Hex gasped. Sea water dripped down his face, and he tried to wipe it with his soaked shirt. His body was heavy and tired. He just wanted to sleep for the next hundred years or so. 

He looked back at the wreck of St.Gart’s, still sinking slowly in the horizon. The waters were shallow over there, and wood pieces were floating closer to the shore, taken there by the gentle waves of a calm sea. It was as if the storm that had taken the ship down had never happened. He wondered if he had just imagined it. The clouds extending their black fingers over the sky, the lighting bolts cutting the mast of the ship, people running around in a panic, jumping in the angry waters.

Hex wasn’t sure how he had survived. He had fallen off the ship when the wrath of the gods had hit its left side, and then— there were a few moments where he had blacked out. He had hit his head somewhere, judging from the pain in the back of his skull. Then, his lungs, in a desperate need of air, had shaken him out of his stupor, and he had been lucky enough to hang onto the remainings of an empty barrel. Hex had let the waves carry him to a nearby archipelago, and now he wasn’t really sure if that had been the best choice: he couldn’t see any drinking water sources around him, nor trees that bore fruit. Not even a coconut tree. 

Hex had no supplies, except for what was included in his bag. Unfortunately, he couldn’t really drink nor eat his medical notes, that, at that point, had turned into a stratus of mush at the bottom of his bag.

Hex let his head rest on the barrel that had saved his life. He was so tired. He could barely keep his eyes open. He stared at the clear sky. It was late in the morning. The sun was at its highest point, but he was so cold that its rays felt like a gentle touch on numb body. He knew he should have moved away from the water, looked for shelter, but everything was so heavy. He didn’t have the strength nor the will to move. He was going to think of that later, after resting a bit. Just a little bit…

Something poked him in the ribs, taking a weak groan out of him.

 - Oh! He’s alive! - a voice said. It was loud and it made Hex wince. His eyelids were glued to one another, and the salt had dried on his face. His body was uncomfortably hot, and his skin was burning. 

A cold hand cupped his cheek, roughly patting him into awareness.

 - Hey! Can you hear me?! Wake up! 

Hex stirred. He tried to say something, but all that came out of his dry throat was a weak hacking sound. The skin of his face felt like old parchment crumbling apart.

 - Doctor! I found a survivor! - the voice yelled. Hex would have really liked to be able to cover his ears. 

Hex managed to open his eyes, just a sliver, and he was blinded by the orange glow of the sunrise. The sky was of a vibrant pink, slowly melting into the light blue of the evening.

A shadow came into view, blocking out the sun, golden shoulder pads glistening like precious stones. 

 - Let me take a look at him. - This voice, unlike the other, was a comforting, low buzz.

Cold fingers wrapped around his hand and Hex started. He tried to get up, but his vision swam, and he ended up laying down again, his eyes squeezed shut. He thought he was going to throw up.

 - Easy, young man, - the voice whispered, an inch away from his ear. His body immediately relaxed, as if someone had just cut the hidden strings propping it up. 

Somewhere deep in his mind, Hex knew he should have been somewhat scared, because that wasn’t normal, but he chalked it up to exhaustion. - Drink this.

They put a flask against his lips. The edge was smooth and cool. Hex greedily drank from it. At some point the flask was taken away and put back into the inner pocket of a vest covered in a curious fish pattern. Wait. No, those weren’t fish, they were question marks. Hex’s gaze was caught in them, and he could have sworn they wriggled from time to time, as if they were trying to get free from the fabric.

He tried to lift a hand to touch them, but his body didn’t obey him.

 - Should we take him to the TARDIS? - the other voice asked, in a quieter tone. 

 - Hm. - A cold hand gently took his chin, tilting his face to the right, so that they could take a better look at him. - I’m not looking for new crew members.

 - But we can’t just leave him here. There’s nothing around. He will starve.

 - I know, Ace. I’m not heartless.

 - You wanted to leave me to die at sea, so—

The lower voice became an octave higher. - I wasn’t going to let you die! I said that because I wasn’t sure of what to make of you back then. What if you were a spy?

 - Turns out I actually was a spy.

 - Not of your own will.

They looked at him, dark shadows against the dimming light. Hex couldn’t distinguish their faces, they both were a dark blur. The sun made his eyes water.

 - We can take him and bring him somewhere where he can be found by humans. 

Something about the way they had said ‘humans’ made a shiver run down Hex’s back. 

He didn’t have time to reflect on the meaning of this, because two small arms, one under his knees and the other behind his back, swept him up as if he weighed nothing. His head, covered in sand and dried algae, rested on a bony shoulder. The fabric of his rescuer’s coat was rough against his sunburnt skin. 

Nausea crept up Hex’s throat a second time, when they started to move towards a nearby blue vessel. It was relatively small, battered and old, with green stripes of moss and mussels running down its sides. A white flag with golden circular decorations waved in the wind from the top of the mast, and the sails glowed strangely in the evening sky, shiny vapor emanating from them. When they got close enough to the vessel, a set of stairs emerged from the ship. Hex’s eyes widened.

 - How did it… how…? - he rasped. 

 - It’s not important, - the voice whispered in his ear again. - You can sleep now. We will take care of you.

Hex shook his head. He didn’t— he didn’t like where this was going. If it was real, if he hadn’t imagined it… he had had enough of ships filled with weird happenings and sea gods and— he had seen what had happened to his friend, who had made the mistake of meddling with things that he shouldn’t have. Oh, Damien. 

He tried to pull away, but the arm supporting his back shifted slightly, so that cold fingers could rest on the skin of his neck. They dug into his flesh. Hex let out a soft gasp - so cold -, then he exhaled slowly and melted into the touch. He forgot what he had been so afraid of, and he drifted away.

A door opened, a creak echoing through an empty, impossibly long corridor. Lamps were swaying along with the motions of the ship, ghostly orbs of a greenish light hovering over him.

He was cold. Freezing air brushed against the naked skin of his back, making him shiver uncontrollably. Someone was splashing him with water, scrubbing the salt off his skin and cleaning the small wounds he had gotten during the shipwreck. Hex didn’t remember how he had got them. He didn’t know the person who was looming over him, nor the place he was in. A cold hand squeezed his shoulder, and Hex tried to wriggle away, even if he couldn’t move much. Don’t touch me, don’t—

I’m almost done! Calm down. 

Hex shook his head. No. He wasn’t going to ‘calm down’. He needed to get away from there, somehow. Away from those eyes, watching him, making him feel so vulnerable, and from the blinding lights surrounding him.

I won’t hurt you.  You’re safe.

The voice was insidious, it unwrapped the tangled web of his thoughts like a needle, piercing right through, and it sunk in the centre of Hex’s mind, filling it with a poison that instantly numbed him. Hex stopped writhing, and the strength oozed out of him. 

It’s alright. Everything is alright. Just sleep.

He couldn’t defend himself. He couldn’t move. He was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing.

Sleep. I’ll take care of things. You’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.

Hex lost his grip on reality, too slippery to hold onto, and his eyes rolled up. 

Don’t worry about anything.

Someone was sitting next to him. They were humming quietly. It was a song that Hex had never heard before, a melody he couldn’t place. It swirled around, making him feel dizzy and warm. It was mesmerizing, like the light an anglerfish dangled in front of its prey. 

 - What a cheerful way of thinking you have. - The humming stopped for a moment, and Hex felt a bit chilly, without the cozy embrace of the wordless music. 

He opened his eyes, and he stared at the ceiling, trying to place where he was. That was… his room? The one he had at his gran’s house. Everything looked just the same: his closet, hanging half open, the desk on which he had spent countless hours leaning on medicine books, the little nightstand on his right and his mom’s photo portrait, hanging form the wall. The bed was just as comfortable as he remembered it - he could even feel the old bed springs digging into his back -, but he was wrapped up in blankets so soft he could almost ignore the back ache he was definitely going to have the day after. The only light source was the round window through which he had used to look at the moon as a kid, thinking of distant places.

The room was silent, except for his own breathing and the delicate scratching of a pen on parchment. 

Hex turned around, and he examined the stranger sitting on the left side of the bed. They had propped themselves up with some pillows and they were writing something in a small blue book, keeping it on a wooden support they had taken with them.

Hex gave them an interrogative look, and he opened his mouth to ask something, but he had so many questions he didn’t know where to start. Who were they? What had happened? How had he gotten back home, and when? He didn’t remember any of it. The last thing he remembered was that he was on the St.Gart’s, preparing for another day of work, and the rest was all a blur.

The stranger extended a hand towards the nearby nightstand and, without saying anything, offered Hex a glass of water.

 - Oh, thank you, - Hex said. He wriggled an arm out of the blankets and took it from their hand. Their fingers were very cold, which was strange, since the room was so warm, in spite of not having a fireplace in it. 

Hex drank the water, letting his eyes fall shut in relief. It was fresh, as if taken right out of a water stream. He put the glass down, and he tried to peek at what they were writing. They moved the book to the left, far enough that Hex wasn’t able to decipher any of it. Not that he could have done that anyways, they weren’t writing with the Latin alphabet, nor in a language he knew. The only thing they had jotted down was circular gibberish. However, there were some doodles in there, and Hex recognized a drawing of himself, before they closed the book all together, giving him a stern look.

 - Didn’t your grandmother ever teach you not to pry in other people’s business? - they asked. 

Hex let out a noise of embarrassment. - I… well. Yes, um— He realized what they had just said, and he frowned. - How… how do you know about my gran? Did you speak with her? I don’t even remember how I got here, in my room.

The strangers features softened. - Yes, well. Technically, this is your room, for the moment. As for your grandmother, you kept calling her in your sleep, so I figured you had a grandmother to begin with.

Hex lifted an eyebrow. That was his room… for the moment? What the hell was that supposed to mean? This was his room, from the spot of ink he had poured once,  down to the dent he had carved in the wall when he had punched it once, as a young boy. His knuckles had regretted it immediately.

 - This is going to be hard to process, but—

 - Who are you? - Hex interrupted the stranger. -  How did I get here? Did something happen to grandma?

 - Slow down, young man, - they said. - One question at a time.

Hex immediately shut his mouth, fearing he had stepped out of line. However, they didn’t seem angry, just amused by his curiosity.

 - Let’s start again, - they said. They put down their pen, and offered him their right hand. - I’m the Doctor. Nice to meet you. 

 - I’m Hex. - He shook his hand, and another shiver ran down his frame. He retracted his hand as soon as possible without it seeming too rude, and he hid it under the covers. It almost felt like all the heat had been sucked out of it. - You’re a doctor?

 - Not a doctor. The Doctor. Definite article.

 - The Doctor… alright? And why are you here? Is gran sick?

Hex tried to get up, but the stranger put a hand on his arm. - No, no, no. Your grandmother is perfectly fine, or at least I hope so. I haven’t had the pleasure to meet her yet. 

 - You haven’t had the pleasure to… but, this is my house, this—

 - You are the one who has been ill, - the Doctor said. They deposited their tiny table on the edge of the bed, and they crossed their legs, turning around to look at him in the face.

Hex blinked. - I’ve been ill?

 - Yes. Very. For three days, more or less. It was mostly exhaustion, mixed with a sunstroke. You’d think a pirate would know that you need to cover your head when you’re in the sun for many hours. But you weren’t exactly in your right mind, I suppose. You get a pass.

 - I’m not a pirate! - Hex sputtered. - I work in the marine. I’m no criminal.

 - Criminal! Now, let’s not define an entire lifestyle by taking only the bad apples as an example, - the Doctor said. - Sometimes people live on the outskirts of society because they don’t fit in anywhere else. It’s not a choice, but you can make something out of it, still.

 - Very philosophical, - Hex muttered.  - Still a crime.

He was getting the strong suspicion that this Doctor person was a pirate, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. If he antagonized them too much, they could decide to make him walk the plank - because that was what pirates did, right? Not that it would have made a lot of sense, after they had nursed him back to health, but you never knew what went on in the heads of some nutters.

As for the room identical to his own, he still had no explanation for it. He had understood they were on a ship, he could have recognized the soft creaks and the gentle rocking anywhere, but he didn’t know how someone could have possible recreated a replica of his room by pure accident. It smelled a little too much of impossible. And it was never good when impossible things happened at sea. 

 - I’m hallucinating, ain’t I? - Hex whispered, more to himself than to the Doctor. The Doctor. What a funny name, too. It couldn’t be real. No one was just called ‘the Doctor’, there had to be names and surnames involved. They were deciding not to disclose their name, and Hex was going to do the same. That technically was not his name, was it? It was true enough to his nature, but it wasn’t like the faeries could steal it.

And why had he thought of faeries, all of a sudden?

 - No, you’re not hallucinating, - the Doctor said, with a little smile, as if they had expected that reaction. As if they had been looking forward to it, even. - Let’s do a tiny summary of this, so that you’re caught up to the events, hm? Let’s see. My crew and I were exploring at sea as usual, when we came across some bad happenings in the St.Gart’s ship. Sounds familiar?

 - That’s where I work. 

 - That’s where you worked.

Hex swallowed. - What do you mean? What happened to the ship?

 - It sank. It got caught in a bad storm. Some people don’t like it when you take advantage of their good hearts, you know? You give others a chance, because, against all the odds and all reason, you think that there is still something in there, but… it’s just foolish behavior. I thought I had grown out of this. I was wrong. - The Doctor fell silent for a moment, then their gaze snapped upwards. Hex met their eyes, and he found himself smiling back, just a little, when they smiled to him. He bit his lip and he looked away. What had come over him? Just because they had saved him… it didn’t mean they were of sound mind nor safe. - Anyways. That’s not important. What matters is that, after the waters calmed down, my crew and I looked for survivors, and that’s where you come into the story, Hex. We found you on a nearby archipelago of small islands, stranded. You had a high fever, so we brought you on the TARDIS.

Hex froze. The TARDIS? He had heard that name in old songs, but he had never— the TARDIS. It was just a tale for kids, a silly little rhyme. It couldn’t possibly be—

The Doctor smiled to him.  - Yes, that TARDIS. The ghost ship that appears and disappears out of nowhere in a golden glow, all throughout history.

Hex looked at them, then he let out a tiny laugh. - Oh, come on, now. Are you telling me we are on board of a ghost ship from kids’ faery tales?

 - People are always so dismissive of children’s literature. It’s more important than what you think.

 - I never said that— this is not the point, you… this just can’t be the TARDIS. Can it?

But then, how could someone have a replica of his room in their ship? 

 - Sea gods aren’t real. They’re just a legend. 

Hex looked at the Doctor, hoping that they would laugh and tell him that they were just pulling his leg, but deep down he already knew that they were a lot more than the little man they were presenting as.

The Doctor gave him an offended look. - Excuse me, but I’m very real. As real as dreams get. Do I perchance need to give you a demonstration?

Hex wasn’t sure he wanted to see one. He just wanted to wake up.

He pinched his arm, hoping that it would shake him out of his dream, but all he managed was to make himself wince.

And unless this was a dream so real he couldn’t escape it, he was in a problematic situation. He knew very little about sea gods, but he knew this much: you weren’t supposed to disrespect them and, above all, to make them angry. 

The Doctor sighed. - There is no reason to be afraid, young man. I’m not going to eat your soul, if that’s what you’re so scared of. I’m a benevolent entity, when I’m in a good mood.

 - No, you— you can’t be. I… it’s not possible. I just—

 - You still need a demonstration of my godhood. I understand, I’m used to the typical human lack of belief. What could I do? Hm. Would a card trick be enough for you?

Hex was taken aback for a moment. - A- A card trick? What does that have to do with…?

The Doctor brightened up and they produced a pack of old, crusty cards out of their sleeve. They mixed them, and then they offered them to Hex.

 - Choose one. I won’t look! - the Doctor said, looking the other way.

Hex couldn’t believe they were really doing this.

 - Come on! I don’t have all day!

Hex, startled into obedience, took a card.

 - Now, look at it, but don’t show it to me.

He took a peek at the card. Three of cups. The cups were covered in the same circular characters the Doctor used to write. Before Hex could say anything, they took the card from his hand, then mixed the cards again.

  - Your turn now.

They offered him the cards, and Hex mixed them too, letting some of them fall. His fingers were clumsy and a little shaky.

 - Now, - said the Doctor. - Was this your card? 

They showed him a three of swords, and Hex lifted an eyebrow, forgetting his fear for a moment. 

 - Well, no. That’s not my card, - he said.

 - Is it not?! - The Doctor took out of their vest a pair of round glasses with a thick frame, and they examined it like an old person trying to read a letter. If he had been in a different situation, Hex would have found them ridiculous. A smile started to tug at his lips again, and he covered his mouth with a hand, swallowing the smile back down. - Hm. Maybe you’re right. 

 - I can tell you which one was my card if you want me to, - Hex said. - It was—

 - No, don’t! I need to get it right. How else are you supposed to believe I am who I say I am?

 - It’s fine, I believe you.

The Doctor lowered their glasses to glare at him better. - No, you don’t. Also, you might be one of the worst liars I’ve ever met… and I’ve met a lot of them!

By the way they had said it, Hex wasn’t completely sure whether it was meant as an insult or as a compliment.

The Doctor was still looking for the card, and Hex, after watching them search for ten minutes or so, was starting to feel bad. 

 - Seriously, Doctor, there is no need. I believe you, alright? - Hex started to flip the cards, looking for his own. However, it wasn’t there. The cards were all turned upwards now, spread on the blankets, and his card was nowhere to be seen.

The Doctor scratched their chin. - You didn’t hide the card on purpose, did you, Hex?

 - No, of course not! I wouldn’t— 

Hex suddenly felt a knot in his throat, and he coughed. The Doctor gave him a few pats on the back, and the three of cups was expelled out of his mouth, dropping onto his lap.

Hex looked at it with wide eyes, then he looked back at the Doctor. Card, Doctor. Card, smug Doctor.

 - How did… how did you…? 

 - A little magic trick. I hope I haven’t scared you, - the Doctor said. They collected the cards and they extinguished the deck with a bright blue flame that sparked out of their fingers. Then, they closed Hex’s open mouth by putting an index under his chin. - It’s not polite to stare at people with your mouth open. You’re lucky that, technically, I’m not ‘people’. So, was I convincing enough or do I need to show you more tricks? I have some colored napkins, a fake magic wand…

 - Oh my God, - was all that Hex could say.

 - Well, yes, but also no. You can just call me the Doctor.

 - Oh my God.

The Doctor sighed. - Fine, if you can’t contain yourself—

 - You really are a sea god.

 - Yes. And?

 - And you can… burn stuff just like that.

 - I can do many things, that was just magic. Tricks are much more interesting! I never get to show all the new ones I learn. I have a whole book about party tricks that I read in my free time, which isn’t much to be entirely honest with you, but—

 - I can’t believe this, - Hex whispered. - Sea gods are real. They’re not just some legend, they’re… they’re real.

The Doctor sighed. - If your mind cannot grasp the concepts—

 - My mind works just fine, thank you very much! - Hex rebuked, surprised of his own bravery. - Excuse me if I need a second to process this. It’s not every day that I learn that stuff from ballads and stories is real.

The Doctor blinked, then they nodded. - I suppose you’re right. A certain level of confusion might be normal. I’m not very good at humans. I’ve travelled with many, but they’re still strange to me sometimes. How are you feeling?

How was he feeling? Hex wasn’t sure, but he was going to feel much better once he knew more about his situation and just how much he was screwed.

 - If you’re a sea god… 

 - Yes?

 - Why did you save me?

 - I beg your pardon?

 - I’m just an apprentice, I’m not that important, - Hex said. - There were so many good people, far more capable than me, on that ship. Did none of them survive?

The Doctor hesitated for a moment. 

 - No. You’re the only one.

Hex swallowed. All his friends— gone. He looked to the side, surprised of his own lack of emotion. He wanted to cry, but he felt empty.

The Doctor shuffled uncomfortably at his side.

 - At least you’re here with us, huh? - they said, giving him a pat on the shoulder. - We were lucky to find you. I’m not sure you would have made it on your own.

 - Thanks for believing in me.

 - I didn’t mean it that way, - the Doctor sputtered. - I’m glad you survived, that’s all.

Hex took a deep sigh, and he hugged himself.

 - I think there was something wrong with the ship, - he whispered. - I remember… ah. It’s all jumbled in my head. 

Hex scratched the back of his head, and he was surprised to find no bumps. He was pretty sure he should have had a wound there.

 - I took the liberty of healing you, - the Doctor said. - I have some good healing salves. Maybe you’d be interested in them, as a medic. 

They took a small round tin box out of their pocket and gave it to Hex, who looked at it for a long moment. A realization had just dawned on him.

 - What do you want in exchange for this? - he whispered.

 - In exchange?

 - You’re a sea god. Sea gods make deals, right? That’s what the stories say.

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow. - Stories can exaggerate.

 - But there’s always some truth in them, - Hex whispered. - You saved my life. I’ll have to repay you, somehow.

The Doctor gave him a strange look. - You don’t want to say that to a sea god, young man. Never offer blank cheques to anyone. What I did, I did because I wanted to. You don’t owe me anything, and I wasn’t planning on taking another crew member, anyways. So, you’ll be free to go at the first harbor we’ll find. 

Hex let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

 - I… I uh. Thank you. That’s very kind.

The Doctor looked at him in the eyes for a moment, then they lowered their gaze. - I couldn’t save the people on your ship. At least I want you to reach home safe and sound.

Hex nodded. Then, he narrowed his eyelids in the effort of remembering. - My friend, Damo. He was… I remember that he was caught by someone. There were strange beings on the ship. Not human? Not entirely, at least. They hurt Damien. When I found him, he was all…

Hex shivered. Images of the past flashed in front of his eyes, and he held the blankets tightly.

 - They were trying to ‘convert’ all the ship, whatever that means. We were all doomed. How did I make it?

 - I think the storm that hit the ship was extremely convenient. It prevented all those monsters to reach the shore and start to spread on land, too, - the Doctor said, pensively scratching their chin.

A couple of puzzle pieces fell into place in Hex’s head, and his mouth opened.

 - You’re the one who did that! You sank the ship!

The Doctor made a little jump. - Me? Do I look like I could do something like that?

Hex didn’t listen to them and he scratched his chin, lost in his own thoughts. - If you can control the weather, it would make sense… that storm arrived far too quickly, and it left just as quickly. It was weird, unnatural.

The Doctor stiffened at that particular observation. - Unnatural? Nothing that exists is unnatural. It’s a contradiction of semantics and common sense.

 - You’re just trying to distract me. You… you did that! The storm, all those people. They all died because of you.

 - Many more would have been lost, if I hadn’t done anything about it. The infection that afflicted the crew of your ship would have spread like wildfire. Someone had to intervene before you reached a harbor.

Hex’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t believe it.

 - What about those who weren’t infected? There were some people that were still normal, this much I remember. 

The Doctor gave him a grim look. - You were all infected. That includes you, Mr.Hex.

He took in the information, his eyes widening.

 - Yes. You were going to go down the same path. 

Hex’s throat clenched.  - So, the reason why you were looking for people after the ship had crashed wasn’t to help them. You wanted to… wanted to-

 - I wanted to help them. But I didn’t find any survivors. You’re the only exception.

 - If you had found them, though, and they had been too far gone, you would have ended their misery, right?

The Doctor’s expression became unreadable.

 - You were going to kill me, too?

 - I think you’re being unfair with me, young man. I saved you. The least you could do is show a little more gratitude, instead of accusing me of actions I didn’t even commit, don’t you think?

Hex was grateful, yes. It was just that… if he had turned, like the others had…

 - You were only in the first stages of the transformation. That’s why I was able to stop it. See this?

The Doctor took a small piece of coral out of their pocket, and tossed it towards Hex. He picked it up and looked at it. It was made of a strange, shiny metal, and it was contorted and porous.

 - I took that out of your heart. 

Hex’s gaze snapped towards the Doctor, and he instinctively brought a hand to his chest.

 - You heard correctly. The coral was already expanding. It was only a matter of hours, before it became too rooted in your body for me to do anything about it. 

Hex unbuttoned his clean shirt with shaky fingers, and he examined the skin of his chest. Everything looked just the same, except for a small scar right above his heart. It looked like it had been made with a scalpel - a deep wound. There was no way a human body could have survived such an operation, not with the medicine knowledge they had at that point.

 - I used a little bit of science and a little bit of magic to keep you alive while I was taking that thing out. Now you’re safe. It won’t grow back, there is no need to be afraid.

Hex let out a choked sound. No need to be afraid.

 - I don’t remember anything about this.

 - I suppose you wouldn’t. You were delirious or asleep for most of the time.

At least it hadn’t hurt. Hex lowered his hands, still shaken.

 - If you can fix people who have been infected, why me out of everyone?

 - Because your status could still be reversed, and because…

The Doctor didn’t finish their sentence. They were looking at something in the distance.

 - I really needed to save at least one life, after failing so many. 

Hex swallowed. No one had ever fought that much for him. In spite of his suspicions about the Doctor, he felt undeserving of such dedication, especially when he had been chosen by pure chance.

 - Thank you, - he whispered. - Sorry, I… I just. They were my friends.

He didn’t think the Doctor could entirely grasp how he was feeling, but the sea god surprised him. There was real sadness in their eyes.

 - I know how it is to lose a friend. 

A grave moment of silence extended between the two of them. Then, the Doctor clapped their hands, startling Hex out of the stupor he had fallen into.

 - Anyways! We should need a couple of days to reach the nearest harbor. You can rest, in the meantime. You’ll soon be as good as new!

They gave him a pat on the shoulder and they nudged his legs with a foot until Hex folded them against his chest. They jumped off the bed, and they stood at his side. They weren’t very tall, Hex noticed. Strange. He had thought they were much taller, as if there were a shadow looming right behind them.

 - I’ll make sure they bring you something to eat, - the Doctor said, while they were adjusting the puffy sleeves of their shirt. - I bet you’re hungry.

Hex frowned. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea to accept food from a sea god. His grandma had told him tales when he was a kid, tales about human kids eating fruits offered by weird Children emerged from the waters of the sea or the rivers, and disappearing soon after. 

 - No, I’m— I’m good, - Hex said. His stomach growled traitorously, and his cheeks burned hot. 

 - I can hear that.

 - I’m not hungry, - Hex repeated.

 - I’m not going to ask anything in exchange if you eat any of the food offered by the TARDIS. How can I convince you to trust me? Do you want me to give you my word?

 - And how is your word going to prevent you from lying to me?

The Doctor opened and closed their mouth a couple of times, then they put their hands on their hips. They reminded Hex of one of those tiny crabs that used to threaten him with their pincers, trying to appear bigger than what they were.

 - I don’t lie! I never lie.

Hex lifted an eyebrow. - Really?

 - Well. I, um. Might omit things, occasionally.

 - That’s still lying.

 - That’s not lying. That is selecting the information that is most appropriate for you to know.

 - That’s literally what lying by omission means.

The Doctor seemed about to embark in a deep philosophical discussion, but they held themselves back. - I have no intention to discuss ethics with you, young man.

Afraid you’d lose?, Hex thought, cheekily. He didn’t say it out loud, but the Doctor still made a face, as if they had guessed what he was thinking about.

 - I will present you with simple facts, Hex: we still have a couple of days of traveling ahead of us, and your weak human frame needs sustenance, especially after the ordeal you went through. So, you either eat the food of the TARDIS, or you starve. Your choice.

 - Is it really a choice?

 - I told you I’m going to give you my word.

They said it as if it meant a lot. 

 - Your word.

 - Yes. When a sea god gives you their word, it’s binding. No take backs. This is, in a way, a form of contract. You can make a deal with a sea god by voice only, but it’s usually unadvisable, when it comes to important things. However, for something as small as this, I don’t think writing a whole compendium is going be necessary, hm? 

Hex thought about it for a few moments. If they said their word was binding… he really hoped they weren’t lying about that too, or, as they said, “selecting the information that was most appropriate for him”.

Hex sighed. He was indeed hungry. And why would they have wanted to trick him into giving them his permission to kidnap him? He was insignificant, in the great scheme of things.

Maybe they wanted to play with him before snatching his soul away from his body, but if the Doctor hadn’t done it yet, they probably were going to leave him alone.

 - Fine, - Hex said, in the end. - Let’s do this deal, I guess.

The Doctor smiled, and put a hand on their chest. - I, the Doctor, Lord President of Gallifrey, the oncoming storm, destroyer of worlds, etcetera etcetera… give you my word that I won’t try to poison you, force you to stay here or do anything else to you that you may deem unsavory by offering you food. - They offered him their right hand. - Deal?

Hex hesitated for a moment, examining them from head to toe. They looked so harmless that he felt ridiculous about his own doubts. But he also was relieved that they had given him a form of insurance - that is to say, if they could be believed. Hex still wasn’t sure about that, but he didn’t have another way out.

So, he held their hand. 

Their skin was as cold as the depth of the sea, and a shiver ran up Hex’s arm and down his back. He felt strange, for a moment, as if he were losing the bit of strength he had regained, but the sensation disappeared as soon as they let him go.

 - There you go. I’ll make sure someone brings you your favorite meal soon. Now, I have a couple of things to look after, so I need to go. We might, um. Take some detours before we reach land, but that shouldn’t be a problem, since you’ll pass all your time here, in your room, not poking your nose around and above all not putting yourself in trouble. Is that fine with you?

Hex nodded, even though his mind was already wondering about what was so secret about the rest of the ship that he was prohibited from seeing—

 - As I said. No. Snooping. Around, - the Doctor repeated, pointing an index between Hex’s eyes.

 - I won’t, - he said. 

The Doctor narrowed their eyelids, then they booped his nose. 

 - Alright, then. Have a nice stay, Hex. I’ll come and say hello to you later, maybe. 

They waved at him, then they picked up a tricorn hat that they had left on the desk and they exited the room.

In spite of their words, Hex had the feeling that this was the last time he was going to see them, and he felt strangely sad about it.