Chapter 2
Author's Note – I'm going to put it bluntly. I know my stories suck. That's okay. If you think that, tell me. Tell me how you want me to fix it by leaving me a review :3 Alright back to the story.
- "Captain!" -
John doesn't hesitate to swing the door open and dash out, escaping Thomas' grip by merely an inch. He runs onto the deck and trips over a slight crack in the wood, but that doesn't stop him. He reaches out toward his father, who was on the deck, yet surrounded by crewmembers, fixing him up. Thomas grabs John's hand and pulls his away, turning him to face him.
"John. Ye mustn't look," He holds John's shoulders firmly. John looks at him in the eyes.
"Then tell me wot happened. Tell me. Now!" He tears up, impatient.
"John. You're father's been shot. Ye hafta stay outta the way while they fix him up." Thomas says, staying calm. He hugs John tightly, having to have knelt to reach his height. He sighs and speaks to John quietly. "Don't cry.. Hush." He says.
John doesn't cry. He never has except for when he was a baby. He just closes his eyes tight and imagines his father with three big holes going straight through his stomach, symbolizing a triangle. He smiles just slightly at the vision and looks up at Thomas.
"He's not gonna go ta Davy Jones' locker, is 'e?.." John says with a small smile, his eyebrows curving up slightly toward his forehead. Thomas frowns slightly.
"No, he's not gonna go ta Davy Jones' locker, I promise ye." He smiles slightly to John then looks to the crewmembers by the captain. They seemed more relaxed, sitting on their knees as they work, Kristopher letting out a groan every now and again. He looks to his wife, who was right next to him at the moment.
"Cynthia… I love ya, but I need ta speak.. To me son." He says weakly to her, remaining quiet and trying to ignore the stabbing pains coming from his wounds as they're being cleaned and sewn. He motions for his wife to go get him with a flick of his good wrist. She looks to Thomas and gives a small nod, tears falling down both of her cheeks.
Thomas looks back at John. "Cmon, the captain wishes ta speak with 'is first mate." He frowns slightly and lets go of John, standing and walking him toward his father, his hand on his back.
John looks at his father through the people. He was sweating and he looked like he was hurt so bad.. He could see the wounds and counted them.. One. Two. Three. Every shot he heard was a hit. His leg. His stomach. His shoulder. When he saw this his hands flung up and he covered his mouth. He walks to his fathers good shoulder, his right shoulder, and sits by him.
"..Father.." John manages. He looks at his fathers face. He was smiling. Despite all the blood he was losing and the certainty that he wouldn't make the hour, he smiles. John thinks to himself, He's so brave.. I want to be like him.. I want to die without regrets. Without sorrow. His thoughts were so mature for a child his age, but he would mature early anyways.
"Johnny.. Don't cry.." He says quietly, looking at John's watery eyes. "Promise me ya won't cry.. Alright? Don't cry in memory of me.. Okay?" He twitches slightly and slowly raises his good arm, holding John's small hand gently. John nods a bit.
"I promise.." He says and he wipes his eye, although no tears fell and no wetness covered his hand. He looks into his father's brown eyes, frowning a bit. They flutter in attempts to stay open and keep consciousness.
"I love ye, Johnny, my boy.." His father says as he goes unconscious. He had been in so much pain but he was keeping it to himself and showing no fear for his son. He was so afraid. He didn't want his son to grow up and fear death like he did, however, so he made it seem as though death was a peaceful thing.
John stares at his father's unconscious body as the crew members continue working on him. He holds his father's hand for a bit longer, although it had gone limp along with the rest of his body, to feel his pulse.
John was soon convinced that his father wouldn't die. He's seen the crewmembers work on injuries that would have brought death almost instantly. He had faith. Thomas and Cynthia take John away from his father, to the captain's cabin, which was through a door standing by the helm. They sit John on the bed and talk to him, Cynthia on his right and Thomas on his left.
"Don't worry." Cynthia says with a soothing voice, rubbing her hand up and down John's back to soothe him. She had no worries of her husband dying. She didn't love him anyways. But she at least pretended to when around John. John saw right through the act. He'd caught her cheating more than once, but he didn't say anything about it.
"I'm not worrying." John says blankly. He had no emotion whatsoever in his face. He had no reason to worry. He didn't believe that his father was going to die, and he refuses to accept that his father wasn't going to be there in the morning. "Tomorrow I'll wake up and we'll just continue livin' life like we always 'ave." He speaks a bit quietly, nearly mumbling the words. Cynthia smiles slightly.
"Johnny-" She starts, but gets cut off.
"No," John looks at his mom. "Don't call me that." She frowns slightly and nods. Thomas looks between the two then to John's mother with a small frown. John gets up off the bed and walks around the room, picking up things and attempting to read his fathers letters and notes. He acted as if everything was normal.
Thomas turns to look at Cynthia with a small frown. "Who's gonna be captain?" He says quietly.
She sighs and closes her eyes for a moment. "We'll go to port and I'll have you stay with John while we take a vote. Until then, I will be the captain.." She nods slightly.
Thomas nods and looks at John, still talking to Cynthia. "Do ya think he'll get over wot happened t'day?" He raises an eyebrow slightly as he sees John screwing with something he shouldn't.
She nods. "He's a strong one. I'm sure that this will only make him stronger." She gives a faint smile. "He loves his father, and as long as 'e does, that'll give 'im reason ta strain on."
Thomas nods in agreement. "Yeah.."
John wanders aimlessly around the room and he stops next to his father's desk. He yanks out the chair and sits underneath, hiding his face in thought.
John grew so much in so little time that it had a mental effect on him. He couldn't process it all at once. The first thing that popped into his mind at that point was actually quite random.
"He was gonna teach me how ta shoot a pistol." John looks up from his legs. Thomas looks at him.
"I can teach ya if ya want." He smiles slightly. Yet John shakes his head.
"No… He said he'd teach me, so I only want ta learn from him." He nods slightly in saying that he'll keep his word. "That or I'll figure it out meself."
Cynthia and Thomas sigh, looking forward as their legs dangle off the edge.
