"Stickybeard!"

The pirate rolled his eyes as the blonde boy stomped across the cabin to his seat. The crew was scattered thickly, singing and dancing and drinking mug upon mug of sugar, paying the former cabin boy no mind. Stickybeard raised a red eyebrow at the boy, already knowing why he was there.

"You know vhere she is, ja?"

"The lass? She be sleepin', I figure."

"In mein cabin!"

Stickybeard opted not to remind Heinrich that, since he had left the crew long ago, he no longer had claim to anything aboard. "She's 'ad a hard night."

"So haff I," Heinrich whined. This earned him nothing but a cuff on the ear. Grumbling and seeing he would receive no help here, he stomped out, almost missing Stickybeard's parting words: "It were yer sorry neck she were tryin' to save."

Heinrich slammed out into the hall and to his former cabin where his enemy slept. He would reclaim his room by force if necessary. Slamming the door open, he stomped to the bed with as much noise as his heavy boots could make and glared, as though his anger alone would wake her.

Abigail lay on the cot, more unconscious than asleep, her body curled slightly towards the door. The dim light from the hall lamps illuminated her face, softening the grimace from her features. The sugar-induced shaking had calmed from earthquake level to a light but consistent trembling.

Heinrich scratched behind his ear awkwardly, less intent on his original purpose. The Captain did have a point, he supposed. Even an experienced candy hunter would have trouble holding the amount of sugar she had swallowed earlier this evening. And she had been doing it for him. He guessed…

Just why she had taken such a risk on his behalf escaped him. She had not had such consideration in Guatemala, he recalled bitterly. As though responding to his thoughts, Abigail shuddered, moaning involuntarily, and Heinrich felt a twinge of guilt.

That surprised him more than anything.

He crossed his arms and scowled again, hoping his usual resentment would dispel the remorse. It didn't work.

Heinrich moved his glare away from the girl, not exactly sure what to do now. He noticed a blanket at the foot of the bed, tossed aside when, he assumed, the pirates had set her down to sleep her inebriation off. He glanced back to Abigail, then to the blanket again. Finally, he grabbed on end of the sheet and dragged it carefully over her sleeping form. It might have just been his imagination, but her trembling seemed to die down just a bit.

He tiptoed out of the room as though trying to make up for his earlier noise. I vill zank her tomorrow, he thought. Vhen she avakens. Zings vill be less… strange after zhat. With his weak assurance, he closed the door and sought out a corner of the deck safe from the night wind to doze in until morning.