Lovely Waves
Summary: All he ever wanted was freedom, he never imagined he would find that with a gang of dangerous German Pirates and their handsome captain.
A/N: So basically I'm trash and you should never let me write things.
Chapter one: Freedom and crates
The sun was high as a young blonde man ran down the streets near the docks. On his heels were two British naval officers, armed to the teeth with sabers and pistols. The streets were crowed this time of day, and the young American had hoped to be able to lose his pursuers in the swarming mass of bodies and noise, but so far he had only managed to barrel into people, screaming "I'm sorry" in his mad dash for freedom.
"Freeze!" one of the officer bellowed arms pumping to catch up to the blonde.
"Yeah, right that sound like a great idea!" he snarled back rounding a corner and pushing his legs to move faster.
Alfred wheeled a hard right into a small alley after skirting behind a heavy set baker, looking for any place he could hide. Panic was starting to set in as he heard the men in navy uniforms close in, and it was only by the grace of God that he found a decent hiding spot. Hurdling a crate, he ducked behind some old boxes left lying about in the alley way. Clapping his hand over his mouth he tried to steady his breathing as they grew closer. His lungs screamed for air, but he refused to reveal his location to his would be captors.
"Damn! Where did he go?" one of them asked huffing
"Shit, I don't know. Fuck The Admiral is going to have our asses!" the other cursed spitting in rage.
The pair of officers turned in place a couple of times, in a vain attempt to try and find a clue as to where the American had run off. Alfred watched them intently from his position behind the wooden boxes. Blue eyes focused, body ready to dash at a moment's notice. However, it would be unneeded, as the two officer moved on, heading back to port. The blonde waited another solid five minutes before he dared to even stand, and another before he picked his way back onto the streets. His bespectacled face scanned the crowd, not seeing anything other than sailors and merchants he sagged with relief, his body exhausted from the mad dash. Alfred tucked his hand into his saddle bag at his hip and felt around for a scrap of paper, pulling it out once it was found he sighed with relief. The parchment contained the shipping and docking schedule for the port, having planned his escape for months, he knew today would have been his last chance to escape England, at least before he returned.
Tucking the paper back into his bag he hitched it up higher on his shoulder and made his way back toward the shipyard, trying not to draw suspicion he moved with purpose. By no means was he a stranger to the sea or ships, though he had yet to ever step foot on one. As he drew nearer he could see there was more people than he had originally planned to be there. Massive men in pants worked tirelessly under the hot sun, sweat dripping down their naked backs as they tossed boxes, sacks and barrels back and forth, loading up shipments for the Americas. This was how he planned to escape England, Stow away on a ship, and pray he didn't starve to death before reaching the new world.
Ok so it wasn't the most well thought out plan in the history of mankind, but he had little time to plan his grand adventure.
Alfred slipped past a pair of workers and scanned around for any possible way he could board without notice. Biting his lip, he managed to spot a ship taking on barrels of ale, gunpowder, fruit and cloth. Just a couple yards away were stacks of empty crates, smiling he watched as a man built like a barn tossed in heaps of fabric before turning his back to grab a top panel. Blue eyes counted how long it took the man to dump his load and then turn back around. A smile etched onto Alfred's lightly tanned face as he crunched the numbers. He would have forty-five seconds to get in a crate and hide under the cloth, before the man would hammer on a lid. Perfect. Determined, he put his plan into motion as he scuttled over to the mountain of crates, hiding behind a few he crouched and waited. He counted under his breath, and the second the man turned his back the American made a mad dash.
15, 16, 17…
At twenty seconds Alfred was in the huge box. Gripping onto what must have been at least five pounds of fabric he ducked down and pulled material up over his head and folded himself into a fetal position. Then he waited, still counting in his mind, hand pressed over his mouth. 43,44,45…There was a brief pause and Alfred's heart hammered wildly in his chest. The man outside the crate gave a huff.
"Why are these….?" He mumbled as he reached forward to grab the fabric.
Alfred's heart stopped beating for a few seconds, he could feel the fabric being lifted, and shifting slowly he prepared to run.
"Hurry up Lazlo, this bird needs to be out at sea! Move your lazy ass!" the foreman called out and the man dropped the fabric back in place with a grunt, before placing the lid on top and nailing it shut.
Relief flooded Alfred's body as he settled back down, a small sound almost slipped past his lips when his crate was picked up and carried over to the loading dock. It felt like hours as he waited, the box was hot in the noon day sun and the thick wool he was buried under did nothing to remedy the heat. Still he remained silent and found a game to play to pass the time, scratching a tiny line in the lid every time someone cursed. It was the only thing he could do without alerting the crew around him that he was there. But even that grew boring after thirty minutes. When the Crate he was hidden in was finally moved he sagged in relief his arms and legs had grown numb from their confined position. Sitting up and tried to peer through a gap in the wood.
"Ready… and PULL!"
Alfred's box lurched forward with a sharp force, causing his face to smash into the side of the wood. A cry of pain slipped from his lips and he grasped desperately at his nose. A warm wet feeling touched his fingers and he knew his nose was most likely broken. The men outside pulled again, the net the crates of supplies rested in swayed heavily back and forth. Each heave caused it to swing more and more wild. Alfred tried in vain to keep himself balanced, but every time he managed to get a foot hold he would be knocked around. There was a pause, in the swaying and he sighed, but moments later the crate dropped and he felt his head snap back with such force it cracked the back of his skull hit solid wood and everything went dark.
"alright Closer her up!" Alfred faintly heard a man shout before his lost consciousness.
A/N: sorry the first chapter is so short! But i didn't want too much to happen in the first chapter! the second chapter is on its way!