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Silver’s breathing was loud; in the near midnight quiet below the deck of the tiny ship he and Jim had bought at their most recent port. The big lug they’d had before was nice, but too flashy for Jim’s taste, and needed too big a crew for Silver’s.
Smaller ships, unfortunately, were much easier targets.
Jim finished cleaning the last of the raw red flesh that had once been the point where what was left of Silver’s organic arm met machinery, and carefully began wrapping the stump in bandages.
“Jimbo,” Silver tried to reach out with his organic hand, but Jim brushed it away.
“I need to finish here,” he grumbled. “Then get us going somewhere not here.” He didn’t look up when he finished with the bandages. “Eat something,” he said as he made his way to the ladder that led up top. “I’ll be back later.”
Silver tried to stay awake until Jim came back down, but that night, he slept alone for the first time since he and Jim had left the RLS Legacy.
Silver woke the next morning to the sound of Jim’s knife working on a block of wood. The boy’d picked up whittling nearly as quickly as he’d picked up piracy, and now, when they had slow times between hauls, Jim supplemented their income with carvings. Little toys, kitchen utensils, nothing big, but the skill was nothing to sneeze at either. Silver could tell, though, that Jim was angry now.
Silver opened his eyes and sat up, overcompensating and nearly toppling over, still getting used to the loss of his arm again. “Alright, Jim,” he said, once he’d found his balance. “Let me have it.”
Jim was quiet for several long strokes of his knife before he carefully set the blade down. He’d told Silver, years ago now, that his father had been an angry, violent, drunkard of a man, who’d used every excuse in the book to hurt Jim’s mother. So while Jim may have had a bit of a temper himself, he would never, ever, raise a hand to anyone he loved.
“You scared me, John.” And there was another sign of just how upset Jim was. He never called Silver by his given name. “You pushed me away, locked me below decks, and by the time I managed to get out, you were lying in the middle of a pool of your own blood, with your stars-be-damned arm gone!” Jim looked up at Silver, rage and fear and so many other emotions warring for dominance in his eyes. “You scared me, John. You’re all I have left in the Etherium, and I thought I’d lost you.” He stood and crossed the small room, cradling Silver’s face in his hands. “I can’t lose you, love. Don’t ever do that again.”
Silver nodded once, taking Jim’s wrist in his hand. It was so massive, compared to Jim, that his hand covered the human’s whole forearm. “I’m sorry, starshine,” he murmured. “I’ll try my best.”
Jim sighed and leaned forward to press his forehead against Silver’s. “Suppose that’s the best I’m gonna get outta you, huh?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Silver’s nose before pulling away. “Breakfast’s ready, and we’ll be at Medicea by midday.”
Silver made a face. “Can we afford Medicea?”
Jim grinned, the expression sharp and wicked. “Don’t you worry about that, love,” he said. “Leave it to me.”