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Curly had a cat when he was young. A mean, scruffy old thing. He was reminded vividly of the times where he’d pluck it off the couch, the window sill—fuck, anywhere he could find it, just so he could carry it around with him. It didn’t appreciate the sentiment, however much Curly wished to show it new things. He ended up with scratches and bites more often than not.
Curly felt a lot like that old bag of bones now, only he had no claws to defend himself with. Dozing in bed under a nice, moonlit screen was interrupted nearly three times a day by Danny popping in, neglecting his Captain’s duties to bother Curly in particular. Hands wrap around his waist and Curly groans in confusion and annoyance as he’s plucked from warm, cozy sheets and settled into Danny’s arms.
Curly didn’t know Danny well, and he certainly didn’t like him. The man didn’t seem to have particularly ill intent—he was never rough or mean, although he could be a bit cruel with his words, teasing Curly the way he did his other crewmates. Curly grumbles, writhing in Danny’s gloved hands as he tries to escape right back into his bed, the bed Danny has so graciously given him.
“Don’t be like that! I just remembered that I never gave you the grand tour! I think a seasoned captain like you would drool at the sight of some of the shit we keep on board. A lotta stuff has changed since your twilight cruise.” Curly’s world swims as Danny spins around way too quickly for his brain to keep up with, the door to their dorm opening automatically in his presence. On the Tulpar, only the cockpit doors did that. On the Pandora, all doors did unless locked.
“You’ve seen the Lounge of course, but there’s a lot of stuff in it you haven’t .” Danny is much too cheerful as he walks through the otherwise quiet ship, down metal clanking hallways covered in pipes, pristine and unburdened by rust. Taken care of and well loved by her Captain and her crew.
“Grrrhm.” Curly croaks out, crossing his arms in annoyance.
“It won’t take long. How will you find your way around if you haven’t seen any of it?” Danny grins at him, toothy. Slimy. The deep bags under his eyes made them look ringed, like an owl’s. Something about Danny felt off, and Curly just wasn’t seeing the side of him he should be afraid of. He knew that now—learned the lesson well, burnt to a crisp for his stupidity.
Danny was in control, though. He had everything he wanted. Everything he could ever want. Unlike Jimmy—he had already trampled on everyone he had to so he could achieve what he wanted. “These are where our board games are. We have a couple card decks, too—Uno, one of those standard decks for gambling. You should play with us sometime. I bet it’d be impossible to read you.” He’s rambling on for himself, really. Curly grumbles and frowns, watching as Danny flips through all of them with one hand, lifting up a few boxes to reveal ‘sorry’, ‘mouse trap’ and a few games he didn’t recognize, much newer ones.
Once he was done showing off all the games they had, Danny happily explains where each and every little thing goes in the kitchen—thankfully there’s only 6 drawers—and the sudden blast of frigid air from the fridge makes Curly shiver.
“Okay. Enough of the lounge. We’re going to go where all the excitement happens.” Danny takes him through the ship, shoes clacking on warm metal. Curly squints to try and read the signs on the wall but he knows the cockpit as soon as he sees it.
It might not be super clear, but blinking lights explode in Curly’s vision. Blues and greens, the quiet whirring of machinery. It feels familiar. It feels painful. Even worse is when Danny lets him sit in the Captain’s chair, flopping down into the other.
“Cool right? This bad boy does all sorts of shit yours didn’t. We could go interstellar if we wanted.” A smirk. “There’s not much out there though. Except the aliens I suppose.” Curly stares at him aimlessly. Why had Danny put him in the captain’s spot? His spot? He swallows hard, trying to push away the creeping uncertainty as he looks up at the screen to the outside. Red fog shifts across the glass, and Curly waves a hand towards it in confusion.
“Space dust from a nebulae. Isn’t it gorgeous? We’re real far out right now. Heading for Alpha-Four-One. I have a… connection there. A guy I owe. His name is Michael.” Danny smirks, “The guy’s nuts. Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure he behaves.” Curly rumbles, intending to ask what the hell he meant by that, but he’s plucked from the captain’s chair and they’re off.
Danny does not take him into the cargo hold. You definitely don’t wanna see the stuff in there, accented by laughter when Curly gives him a disgusted look. Next is the utility room, where a man sits hunched over what looks to be some sort of toy car. “That’s Gabriel. He’s our repair guy. Well, the main repair guy.” Gabriel’s head snaps up at the sound of his name, dark brown eyes shimmering in confusion.
“Did something break, Cap?” He quickly shoves the toy away, pretending like he hadn’t been engineering it to go faster.
“Hah. No, the ship’s fine. I figured our newest crewmate could use a tour, though. Is the door to the cryopods unlocked?” Danny asks, and Gabriel’s eyebrows furrow in thought for a moment.
“They shouldn’t be, but your access card can unlock it.” No codes. Access cards, easy. As long as the owner kept track of them.
“Gotcha. Thanks.” Danny gives him a thumbs up, surprisingly kinder than Curly had expected for a murderer-pirate. They move on to the cryopod room. Rows upon rows of cryopods. A dozen, maybe two. They don’t stay long because the sight makes Curly a bit nauseous, sinking down against Danny. The man even joked he looked paler than usual. Asshole.
Curly glares at Danny’s stubbled face as he shows him the dormitories, though not entering any of them. Privacy and all that.
All of it was standard—a bit fancy, sure—until they hit the gym. Right next to the medical bay, a room fit for anyone to work their muscles. By that point, though, Curly was genuinely exhausted. Though he had done very little, all of it strained his eye and he found himself slumped against Danny’s body, not even attempting to hold himself up anymore. It hurt his arms too much.
“We have more places to visit,” Danny complains, “you can’t fall asleep yet.” Curly responds with a grumble, obviously incomprehensible but the tone was there. Danny grins at him, the small frown on his face swept away in an instant. “Fiine. We can always finish up later. You need your rest for whenever Claudette comes to get you anyway.”
As opposed to that scruffy old cat, Curly is tucked back into bed. Danny makes sure he’s comfy—doesn’t need anything—before he leaves, very clearly resisting the urge to do something stupid. Curly hoped it was his glare that chased him off, but Danny had given him a brush of his palm over the head, as if pretending he had hair there to play with.
Curly didn’t like it, but he didn’t… not like it. Danny might be weird and scary, but he didn’t seem to have bad intentions…
But Curly had to be careful anyway. He was too weak to realize he was being manipulated, abused by Jimmy—he couldn’t let it happen again.
Even with no crew of his own to take care of. He rests his cheek on his pillow, a soft sniffle leaving him.
He really did miss his crew.