Finals Round 3:
Team: Wigtown Wanderers
Position: Beater 2
Prompt: Carry On My Wayward Son - Supernatural
Additional Prompts: 1. (word) circumstance, 4. (word) distance
Words: 1428

Thanks to Bailey and Aya for betaing!

Also, this is kind of a sequel to Starstruck, but only because they're set in the same universe, so there's no reason to read it beforehand :D

Percy bit his lip and looked at the wrench he was holding, then at the spaceship he was trying to repair. Though it was old, its hull was notoriously smooth—Percy thought notorious because that was what the proper authorities had called it. They were right: when he and Oliver had first bought the spaceship, he had been underwhelmed. A lifetime of poverty had left him used to second-hand belongings, of course, but he'd never expected the old spaceship to so smoothly fit into a life of piracy.

But if he was being honest—and Percy usually was, despite his recent career choice—Percy had never thought he'd fit into the pirate life, either.

.oOo.

Oliver was in the head pilot's seat, technically, but the ship was on autopilot. Percy considered it a good thing. If Oliver had even a tenth of the distraction Percy himself was feeling, it would have been a very dangerous ride.

As it was, they already were in danger. Percy almost couldn't believe it. A mere month ago, he'd worked in the Ministry. Now, he was on the outskirts of civilization in an old pirate ship.

He looked at the map projection on the control panel. He didn't even really know where they were, and if there was anything Percy hated, it was being clueless. He peered more intensely at the map: time flew and so did they, the small space coordinates on the map changing as they moved, though Percy was still unaware of the full distance they'd covered. The ship hummed quietly as the engines worked, louder than new models but still much too quiet for Percy's tastes.

He was used to a house bursting at the seams with activity, with six siblings, each with friends and a family of their own clamoring over each other for space and attention. Oliver was never like that, Percy thought fondly, finally looking sideways at his boyfriend and grinning: his boyfriend.

"And you said it couldn't be done," he said, still smiling.

"I said I couldn't imagine you as a pirate," Oliver corrected. Percy blamed his euphoria of their first pirating success for letting him get lost in Oliver's eyes. But they were lovely eyes.

He tapped idly on the armrest, mindful of the buttons. He still wasn't used to them, or to the piloting bracelets he and Oliver now wore; he wasn't used to the seat itself, which was dull grey and slightly misshapen, with three belts that he still wasn't sure he was using correctly. It all felt odd, somehow out of place—except it wasn't the ship that felt off, it was Percy.

He loved Oliver, he had loved him when they'd been at school together and had rediscovered that love after becoming a space pirate, but the adjustment to living together again was difficult. When he wasn't nervous, Oliver was quieter than anyone else Percy had lived with, and it didn't help that they were all alone on the ship.

Perhaps not enough time had passed. After all, Percy had lived in a bustling city before. He had no experience being a space pirate!

He sighed and tried to sink down into his seat, but the chair was built chiefly for functionality; Percy leaned forward slightly, put out that his sulk wasn't going as planned.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Oliver turn his head. "You alright?"

"Just a bit put out, I suppose. I know it was my idea to leave our old lives behind to become space pirates, and I know it was a ridiculous idea—and I'm happy it all worked out, I really am, but it just feels… odd, I guess." He shrugged. "I don't know. I think I just need some time to process it, is all."

"That does seem like you." Oliver laughed. "You're the most thorough person I know."

Percy was the most thorough person Oliver knew. He took pride in everything he did, and with good reason. He might not have been a pompous prat anymore—it pained him, but Percy had identified and worked on his multiple shortcomings—but he was a perfectionist at heart.

Now, however…

Becoming a space pirate and asking Oliver to come with him had been a spur-of-the-moment decision borne of boredom, disillusionment, and hopelessness. With another sigh, Percy realized that he was nothing but a victim of circumstance: of his family situation, his own pride, and now his decision to become a space pirate.

He laughed aloud at the last observation: that wasn't circumstance, that was his own pigheadedness.

"What—"

But before Oliver could finish his question, something hit the side of the ship and Percy felt himself falling—and suddenly stopping.

He was still seated, and so was Oliver, and the control panel in front of them was still working, so there was no reason for them to have stopped flying. And there was no reason for them to have been hit. It was almost as if something had caught the ship mid-flight and suspended it.

"Oliver, what—"

"No idea."

Percy moved to unbuckle himself, but stopped at the familiar crackle of a government-issued radio reverberating throughout the ship.

"Do not move. Please keep your hands and feet within the full view of the front window, do not reach for your weapons. Your ship had been caught and suspended on the belief that it is a pirating ship. There is evidence linking it to the recent attack on the port city of Wigtown, an attack that will be investigated with the full strength of the Galactic Authority. Please be aware that any hostility will be met with equal resistance. A representative of the Galactic Authority will be aboard your ship momentarily to investigate the matter."

Percy felt his eyes widen as he looked at Oliver. This was his fault—he was the one that asked Oliver to come—but Oliver just shook his head. They knew each other to well, which was why Percy tightened his belt instead of loosening it: Oliver pressed a few buttons and the ship flew again.

It was still harnessed to the ship that had caught them, and Percy felt that it was still connected—the side of the ship was too heavy, too strained, almost lagging behind them as they tried to fly.

Was this what space pirating was like? Insecurity and scrapes with the proper authorities? They'd barely made it out of Wigtown, and that was as feared space pirates! Percy wasn't built for this, not at all…

"Help me!"

Percy started and pushed his impending mental breakdown to the back of his mind. Oliver was straining against the wheel and joystick controls, all buttons forgotten, trying to gain enough speed to get away. Percy began pushing his own buttons to back up the ship's energy, terrified that they were about to be faced with open fire. They'd been warned, after all: "Any hostility will be met with equal resistance."

"Almost!"

Percy activated the backup generators as Oliver maximized the speed; he heard the harness pop off, the ship began to spin, and Oliver fell backward into his chain in a haze of sparks, and Percy didn't have the time to check on him, desperately manipulating the control panel in front of him to get some distance between them and the ship.

.oOo.

They were docked on an asteroid now, the ship slightly dented and Oliver slightly singed, but with a cargo full of food and tradeable items. Percy debated rewatching the intergalactic alert that had been sent out only an hour after their escape. They and their ship had already been labeled notorious, and after less than a month of pirating!

He couldn't help the pride. Percy liked being good at things, he strove for it. That, more than anything—except perhaps his relationship with Oliver and the sheer amount of fun being a pirate was proving to be—was enough to allay his fears.

He moved closer to the ship with his wrench, attempting once more to fix it, when one of the cargo doors slid open and Oliver walked out, hair messy and shirt open, but otherwise physically unharmed.

"Need any help?"

Percy heaved a sigh of relief and handed over the whole tool kit. "Please."

Oliver snickered.

Percy cracked a grin, too, perching on a nearby rock and settling in to watch his boyfriend and copilot. They were far from home, yes, in unfamiliar territory and wanted by the law, but he couldn't ever remember feeling this content: he'd chosen this life.