Adrift
by Kysra
One day while they are still out to sea and Ayla is frowning at the ocean, Pearl leans against the boat rail next to her and without prompt states that Eury usually goes for older, experienced women who smell of cigarette smoke and stale beer.
Ayla doesn't say anything but turns her head and stares at the older girl with a confused look on her face.
Pearl laughs lightly and winks her one good eye. "Now, I see."
-IR-
"So are you gonna make a play or aren't you?" Jett sidles up to Eury late into the night when everyone else is below deck and asleep. The watch has been quiet and his eyelids are heavy.
"What?" Eury blinks owlishly, trying to focus on something other than the thought that he'll be in bed sleeping soon.
Jett grins sharply. Never a good sign. "That Ayla chick. You interested? Cuz if you aren't –"
Coming fully awake, Eury strikes, grabbing his brother in a strangle hold and applying a rough noogie. "Don't even think about it, man. She's out of your league."
Choking, Jett maintains his grin and strangles out. "So you . . . are. . interested."
Eury releases him as quickly as he had attacked, and Jett staggers back, rubbing his neck and rearranging his hair gingerly. "No way. She's an annoying, useless brat. The sooner we get rid of her, the better."
Jett merely grins again and whistles low under his breath. "Whatever you say, bro; but I think we both know your mouth is saying one thing while your mind is thinking another."
Eury doesn't get much sleep that night.
-IR-
There is nothing to do, and Ayla finds herself consumed with boredom. Everyone is either busy or napping, and even Kiki is dozing beneath the captain's chair; so she curls up on a deck bench with the boat's manual and hopes to either learn something or be lulled to sleep.
She gets to page three before rhythmic foot falls perk up her ears and grow louder. Amy appears, rubbing her eyes with one hand, holding her glasses in another, shuffling toward Ayla's seat.
"Good morning, Amy." Ayla smiles at the girl, so fresh faced and young compared to her siblings.
"Mornin." Amy's voice sounds muffled and slurred with sleep, and she falls with a 'whoof' next to Ayla. "Watcha readin'?"
The blonde girl shows the tech dweeb and grins when Amy says she doesn't need to read such trash when all the mechanical information they will ever need is in her genius brain.
They fall silent, listening to the wind and the rustle of the book's pages falling open and over on Ayla's lap until Ayla turns a serious look to Amy and softly lays a hand on the child's slight shoulder.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier, Amy."
"Huh?" Amy slips on her glasses and grins a smile so like Eury's, Ayla has to swallow against a lump that forms in her throat. "Oh! That's no big deal. Big Brother has a way sometimes."
He certainly does, Ayla thinks sourly, her face collapsing into a pouting look; though – even she has to admit – he has been tolerable since their escape from the satellite station.
"He really likes you, though." Amy continues, tinkering with a hand-held remote of some sort. "Eury always treats women all smooth and Casanova-like; but he's not like that with you."
Ayla watches the little girl silently for a few moments before bursting out laughing and ruffling auburn pigtails. "You and your sister have some very strange ideas about Eury and me."
Blinking, lost, Amy watches Ayla amble away, her book left behind. "What strange ideas?"
-IR-
He would die before admitting it, but Eury had given Amy her first set of tools and taught her how to use them; and he wonders distantly why he hadn't asked her to look at the engine before tackling the problem himself. It would have given her something productive to do while preserving his (once – reasonably – clean) clothes.
Seaweed had somehow become tangled in the propellers and he had had a hell of a time cleaning up THAT mess before the engine had puttered and stalled inexplicably just as he and the others were sitting down to dinner below. As it was, his face is smudged, his hands are lathered with grease and sludge, and his hair is clumped and curled with saltwater and bits of kelp. He can smell himself. Disgusting.
"Hand me that winch, will ya?"
Ray is a looming shadow to his right, watchful, waiting, and ready to help. He moves with care, still sore from the angel attack and subsequent miles-long sprint to the radio tower, and hands Eury the tool requested.
There is silence because Ray rarely speaks unless he has something to say, and Eury rather likes the quiet. His life has been much too noisy of late. Still, Ray's hands are fidgeting and the movement is distracting Eury's eyes from the task at hand. "What's on your mind?"
Ray twiddles his thumbs and looks around nervously before sighing, "You should talk to her."
Eury pretends not to understand because – truth be told – he could have had quiet anywhere that wasn't inside with the rest of his family. He could have had peace without the frustration of fixing the stupid engine; but he has chosen manual labor to work out the aggression that always seems to rise when he is within hearing distance from Ayla. It's always about Ayla nowadays.
"Ayla," Ray re-iterates when his older brother says nothing. "You should talk to her."
"I don't want to talk to Ayla. Ayla is a prissy little girl who has nearly caused my premature death four times over since we first met. The less contact I have with her, the healthier I'll be. Besides, there's no love lost on her side either, or have you missed the fact that she hates my guts?" The winch flies out of his hands as his voice becomes loud and rough.
"I don't think she hates you, bro. She seems scared to me," Ray says as he finds the winch and hands it to Eury again. "Did something happen to her at the satellite station?"
Eury laughs a little but it is not a happy sound. "What is with you and Jett and that girl?"
Ray merely shakes his head in answer. "She's scared."
Cranking the winch with more force than needed, Eury pauses to wipe his brow with the back of one hand as he mulls over the younger man's words, remembering. Scared huh?
"Fine." His voice is soft beneath the bangs that cover his eyes. "I'll talk to her but not tonight."
Ray rarely smiles, but he spares one for Eury at that moment.
-IR-
The day bleeds into night on the open sea and Ayla wonders where they are going and if it even matters anymore. Looking out at the stars and inky waves, she tries not to think of Machika or Methuselah, where they are and how she is not allowed to follow.
She is suddenly sick and tired of losing the people she loves. She is sick and tired of crying, of helplessness. Of being . . . empty.
"Hey." She hasn't heard his voice directed at her since their mutual near-death experience, and despite the aforementioned tear-sickness, Ayla finds her eyes have become wet and her heart is light with relief.
Eury towers over her even as he leans his back against the rail, his arm brushing hers. Once she would have been uncomfortable with such contact, but she now craves it from him. The feel of his skin reminds her that he is alive and that - for once - she had not broken down under pressure.
"Hi." She tries a smile but it quivers off her lips as the tears build and drop over the lids. "Sorry." She sniffles and wipes a hand over her face.
He doesn't say anything, just presses a little closer into her. "Listen," he says quietly, and Ayla suddenly realizes that where there was once Pearl at the bow and Kiki and Jett at the prow, there is no one. Her hands tighten around the railing, her heart filling with dread.
"When we get to land, I want you to stay with me."
She barely believes her ears and tells him to repeat himself. His mouth twitches, eyes narrow, and she wants nothing so much as to accept the offer gracefully. It didn't escape her notice that he said "me" rather than "us;" and she's not certain if she's ready to acknowledge what that slip might indicate.
"Thank you, Eury; but I can't." A shuddering breath steals through her lungs, and - for the first time since she's known him, Ayla cannot bring herself to look him in the eye. "There's the clan to think of, and I need to wait for Machika somewhere she'll be able to find me."
He opens his mouth to interrupt but she turns on him, the line of her gaze falling to focus on his chin, a tremulous smile bowing her lips. "But, more importantly, I have to find my family."
"I see." He says, voice low, rumbly, and just this side of petulant; but she knows he understands. It is in his look, the way his hands relax a little against the guardrail. "Well, I have some connections . . . They'll probably still give me a nibble if I ask nicely; and Sharem probably won't think anything of it even if she does find out I'm sniffing for information."
Tears, unbidden, drown her eyes, and she wipes at her cheeks, sniffling and embarrassed. "I don't have anything to repay you."
Despite the somber tone of their conversation thus far, Ayla fully expects Eury to break it with some crack about how she could use her body to repay him this uncharacteristic charity; and though his expression suggests he is currently thinking the same, the tension in his face gives way to the first genuine smile he has ever aimed at her and his shoulders fall to a more natural set.
"No help for it, I guess," he lets loose a long breath and steps close, her nose a hair's breadth from his chest as she looks up at him, eyes wide and wet. "Smile for me."
"What?"
"You want to repay the favor. I want a smile." He smiles down at her as an example, rocking back on his heels, waiting.
Tentatively, her mouth molds into a small ghost of the expression he desires. "Just a smile?"
Cupping her face in his hands, he bends to focus more forcefully into her eyes. "No, but we'll start with the smile."
She does smile then, laughing and launching herself into his arms, anchoring herself with hands thrown about his neck. "Thank you so much, Eury. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
His hands are warm despite the cool sea air, and he trails them between her shoulder blades and down to rest at her hips. She tries to ignore the way he breathes in her hair, the feel of his body closing around hers. "I want to meet with you, every week . . . you can pick the day; but it has to be the same day, same time every week."
The words are just a few decibels above a whisper, his tone serious and commanding. The sound reminds her of his face against a grate, of water rising and knowing it's too late. "Okay . . . okay." She would not ask why, knowing this was Eury's compromise. He might never say it in so many words but she understood he wanted to protect her, had protected her since the first - even when she was being a brat; and if Folk or Yuca came back . . . he wouldn't know until she was gone.
Sifting her hands up through his hair, she sighed. "I understand."
I'll be worrying about you too.