Chapter 2: With the Wind

"Everything is put away," Blaine informed Santana. "And I've already instructed Finn to cook the meat tonight."

"Excellent," Santana said. She had just finished talking with Puck, and was listening to Blaine as he gave her an update. The Titan was still sailing away from them, though not as quickly as Santana would have liked. "Where did you take Brittany?" she asked.

"To your cabin," Blaine said. He looked hesitant. "She seems pretty shaken up. I don't know if she's going to be much use to us."

"She's not for use," Santana said, feeling sick at the thought. Did Blaine really think she would buy a slave to keep on their ship? "Why would we even need her?"

"Okay, I was just checking," Blaine said. He narrowed his eyes at Santana. "So this was like...a noble thing?"

"It's really not that hard to imagine that I might do something noble," Santana snapped. "Why don't you go be of use?"

"Alright, whatever," Blaine said hastily, hurrying away. Santana went to her cabin. Brittany was sitting on the edge of the bed, tracing the pattern of the blankets nervously. She looked up when Santana entered.

"Hi," Santana said quietly. "Brittany, right?"

Brittany nodded. Santana walked over to her desk chair and pulled it up to the bed so that she could sit facing Brittany. She wasn't quite sure what to say—or, frankly, if Brittany was even capable of speech—so she decided to examine her instead. The spot on her cheek where Karofsky had slapped her was beginning to turn purple, and there were scratches and bruises all up and down her arms. Santana reached forward and placed her fingers on a particularly large scar. Brittany flinched. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

Brittany shook her head. "It's old," she said. Her words were so quiet that they almost got carried away.

"Some of these look new," Santana said, moving her eyes down to Brittany's leg. There was a scratch there that was bleeding slightly, just enough that it had left a few specks of red on the hem of her dress. It looked deep and a little bit swollen. Santana gently pushed the dress aside and felt Brittany's muscles tense beneath her touch. "I'm sorry," Santana said. "Do you not want me to touch you?"

Brittany began to look panicked. "You can touch me, I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I'll be good."

Santana furrowed her brow. That was a strange response. "It's alright, I'll stop," she said, continuing to look at the cuts but being careful not to touch them. None looked so deep that they needed stitches, but they definitely had to be washed. Santana wondered if all of them had been inflicted by Karofsky. She shuddered. "I'll get someone to look at these for you," she said. "We'll get you cleaned up."

"Thank you," Brittany said. Then she looked at Santana. "You're the captain, right?"

Santana nodded. "Yeah. I'm Santana."

"Do you need me to...do stuff for you?"

Santana blinked. "What?"

"Captain Karofsky always g-got mad when I...when I wasn't ready for him." Her voice started shaking. "Whenever I was in my cabin, h-he wanted me to..."

Santana's eyes widened. "No," she said quickly. What exactly was it that Karofsky wanted her to do? No, scratch that—she didn't want to know. "Brittany, I didn't buy you for that," she explained. "Brittany, look at me." Brittany brought her frightened eyes up to meet Santana's. "No one here is going to touch you, do you understand?"

Brittany bit her chapped lip and nodded slowly. A tear formed in her eye and began to slide down her cheek.

"I'm going to take care of you," Santana promised. "If there's anything you need, just tell me."

"Thank you," Brittany croaked, rubbing at her eyes and leaving a streak of dirt on her face. Santana stood up from the bed. She had never been good in emotional situations, and this was no exception. It was time to let someone else step in.

"I've got to go out and talk to my crew," she said. "But I'm going to send someone in here to help you, I promise." She hesitated. "And, uh, if there's anything you need, let me know."

Brittany nodded and wrapped her arms across her chest, crying softly. Santana left the cabin and closed the door behind her. Then she walked up to Blaine, who was sitting around one of the barrels with Kurt and Puck, laying out a case of cigars. The boys were eyeing the cigars eagerly.

"Hey, Anderson, Hummel" Santana snapped. "I've got a job for you. Clean up the first mate cabin and change the sheets, we're going to make a room for Brittany."

"Brittany?" Kurt looked at her in confusion. "Who's Brittany?"

"The girl we just rescued from that idiot Karofsky, now hurry up," Santana said impatiently. "She's probably exhausted and I want her to have a place to sleep."

"Hold on," Blaine said. "Why does she have to take my cabin? We have three extra bunks below deck."

"Because she doesn't want to sleep down there with the rest of the foul pirates on this ship," Santana said, rolling her eyes as she thought about the strange disregard for hygiene that most of her crew seemed to possess. "Brittany needs privacy. She's not well."

"That's not my fault," Blaine countered. "Why can't you give her your cabin if it's so important?"

"Because, my cabin is practically community space now, ever since Schuester left it," Santana snapped. "She needs to be in the cabin below where it's quiet. And besides, I have all my navigation stuff up here. I need to be able to go in and out."

"You can't just give away Blaine's cabin!" Kurt protested. Santana turned to him with an eyebrow raised.

"What's it to you, Hummel?" she asked.

Kurt's face turned red. "We, uh, play dice in there," he said. Santana scoffed. She had a feeling that Kurt and Blaine had been playing an entirely different kind of game recently. And she knew that Kurt didn't even own any dice.

"You can 'play dice' downstairs," she said. "This isn't really an offer, Blaine, this is an order. It's only for a couple of days."

"Fine," Blaine said, gathering his cigars and shoving them into his pockets. "We'll trade later, guys," he said quietly to Puck and Kurt. Then he stomped off across the deck. Kurt hurriedly followed him.

"Remember, the captain gets to collect a tax on every trade that takes place onboard!" Santana called after him.

"Bite me!" Blaine replied as he disappeared into the hull.

"That idiot," Santana muttered to herself. She looked at Puck. "Where's Quinn? Or Cedes?" She had a feeling that they would be the only two who could possibility treat Brittany with some semblance of civility. Her crew was capable of many things, but manners was not one of them. Still, Santana supposed she shouldn't be throwing any stones. She was the worst of the lot.

"Quinn's on break," Puck said. "Mercedes is steering."

"Take over for her," Santana ordered. "I need her to do something for me." Puck got up and went towards the quarter deck. A moment later, Mercedes came down the stairs.

"Hey Captain," she said. "You needed me?"

"Yeah," Santana said. "There's a girl in my cabin and I need you to get her some water for a bath." Mercedes looked at Santana strangely. "I realize how weird that sounds," she continued. "Just do it, and give her some of my clothes. Whatever you can find, I don't care." She hoped Mercedes wouldn't ask too many questions. Santana still wasn't sure what she was going to do with Brittany and how she was going to explain her lack of a plan to the rest of the crew.

"Alright," Mercedes said, leaving without protest. Santana sighed and went up to the quarter deck. She walked past Puck, who was manning the wheel, and leaned against the railing. The sky was dark now and the first stars were becoming visible. She could smell the fragrance of Finn's cooking coming from the galley and managed a small smile. When Finn had first joined up, she and Schuester had discussed ditching him at the nearest port because of how ineffective he was. But then they discovered that he could cook. It was an unexpected talent, but it had served him well. Often, the thought of his spice cake was the only thing that kept her from making him walk the plank.

Puck was the opposite of Finn, Santana thought as she watched him at the helm. He was clear-headed and born for piracy. His strengths lay more in eating than in cooking, but other than that, he was basically the perfect crew member. And Santana liked him, too. It wasn't hard to pretend that they were brother and sister under Schuester's watchful eye, and their lie probably could have gone a lot farther if they hadn't gotten a little too close. Santana smiled at the memory of their fling. It wasn't something that she ever wanted to repeat, but it had been pretty funny when Mercedes walked in on them kissing in the bunks and demanded an explanation. And Santana had thought Tina's yell was loud...

Santana lost herself in thoughts of her crew. There were Blaine and Quinn, the McKinley veterans, who had joined up with her when Schuester first started recruiting at Port Lima. Mike and Tina, the young couple running away from home so that they could be together, who had eagerly accepted passage on the ship in exchange for becoming pirates. Artie, who didn't mind being called Peg Legs because he was more capable than half the crew put together. And Mercedes, who was Santana's eyes and ears below the deck, appearing kind but threatening to beat up anyone who didn't do their share of the work. The person who got a free pass from Mercedes was Sam, their newest crew member, who had been in love with Mercedes since he set foot on their ship. Finally, there was Kurt, the dainty boy from the colonies who had nearly punched Santana in the face when she suggested that he was better suited signing up to be a butler on a Navy ship. He was fiercely opposed to his old lifestyle, and he had turned out to be a surprisingly eager and hardworking pirate. She would like him a lot better, though, if he wasn't constantly sneaking off with Blaine.

Santana really liked them, even though she hated to admit it. She hoped that there was no truth to what Puck had been saying about some people questioning her judgment. Unlike Schuester, she wanted what was best for everyone. And she'd always dreamed of captaining her own pirate ship, ever since she was very young. Underneath her stubbornness, her strict orders, and her constant banter with Blaine, she really just wanted to make her crew happy.

Santana was shaken from her thoughts when she heard footsteps behind her, and a moment later, Blaine was leaning against the railing by her side. "What are you gonna do with Brittany?" he asked. "Did you make a plan yet?"

Santana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Not yet," she admitted.

"An impulsive spender who has no foresight," Blaine said with a nod. "Those are great qualities in a captain."

"Like you would have left her there," Santana snapped.

"I might've." Blaine sighed heavily and looked out over the frothy sea. "No, I wouldn't have. You're right."

"Schuester would've," Santana said.

Blaine nodded. "It's entirely possible. We should ask her where she lives."

"And take her home?" Santana asked. "It could be thousands of miles away, for all we know."

"Well, we might as well ask," Blaine said. "I agree that we did the right thing by taking her, but you gotta admit, we have a bit of a problem on our hands. If her home is too far away, maybe we can take her to port and help her get aboard a merchant ship or something."

Santana nodded. "That seems like a good idea," she said.

Blaine hit her shoulder with his. "Looks like you're lucky to have me."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right," she said. "You're probably the laziest member of this crew. Every time I turn around, you're making trades or singing chanties or talking to that weirdo Kurt Hummel."

"Hey," Blaine protested. "I like Kurt."

"I know you do," Santana replied with a smirk.

"Okay, maybe I don't work as hard as the others, but I am the brain power, you gotta admit." He smiled.

"Captain." Mercedes's voice came from the stairs and Santana turned around to see her emerging onto the quarter deck. "I took care of Brittany and she's still in your cabin."

Santana nodded. "Good. Thanks."

Mercedes came closer. "What's wrong with her?" she asked quietly.

Santana immediately became wary. "What do you mean?" She stepped away from Blaine so that she and Mercedes could carry on their conversation in private.

"I mean that she was nervous and wouldn't undress in front of me and...I don't know, she just seemed weird." Mercedes looked troubled. "She's so scratched up."

"Did you clean the cuts?"

"I hope she did. She wouldn't let me touch her." Mercedes shook her head sadly. "Something was going down on that ship she was on, I promise you. I don't know what it was and I don't know if I want to."

Santana chewed on her lip. "I'm going to take her to Blaine's room," she said. "She'll be staying there."

"Alright," Mercedes said. "That sounds good. Just...keep an eye on her."

"I will," Santana promised as Mercedes went back to the wheel. Santana turned to Blaine. "I'm going to see her now," she said. "I'll ask her about taking her home."

Blaine nodded. "Good," he said. "Let me know what she says."

Santana walked into her cabin for the second time that day to find Brittany sitting on her bed. This time, however, Brittany had shed the dirty dress and was wearing a pair of Santana's britches with a button-down shirt. Santana noticed with surprise that the pants were a little short. Brittany was actually taller than Santana had thought, though she seemed so tiny as she sat on the mattress with her knees against her chest. She looked at Santana with the same nervous expression that she'd had on Karofsky's ship. "Was it nice to finally get clean?" Santana asked with the most comforting smile she could muster.

"Yeah," Brittany said.

"You must be tired."

Brittany nodded. "I am."

"Okay." Santana lingered by the door. Then she walked over to the trunk in her cabin and pulled out a thick quilt. "I just bought this last time we stopped, isn't it nice?" She held it up and Brittany examined it expressionlessly. "You can borrow it if you want. It gets a little cold at night."

"Thanks," Brittany whispered.

Santana wished that Brittany would smile or say something to reassure Santana that she was doing the right thing. Santana didn't know how to to take care of people. She had never done it before. "Come on, I'll take you to your room," she offered. Brittany slowly uncurled herself and stood up from the bed, her legs shaking slightly.

"So our ship is probably not that different from the one you were on before," Santana said as she led Brittany across the deck They went down into the hold and Santana continued. "It's a little smaller, though. That way's the bunks where most of the crew sleeps...there's the heads..." When Brittany finished climbing down the ladder, Santana led her away from the crew's bunks. They passed another ladder that went down even further. "That leads to the rum cellar and the gun room," she said. She wasn't sure if Brittany was even listening to her, but she wanted to fill the silence. "The cannons are down there. And this," she reached a small door and pulled it open, "is the first mate's cabin, which is where you'll be sleeping." She motioned with her hand and Brittany looked inside at the cramped quarters, with the small bed and chest all shoved inside. "It's not much," Santana said quickly. "But at least you don't have to be in the bunks."

"It's really nice," Brittany said tonelessly. "Thank you."

"No problem." Santana stepped out of the way so that Brittany could go inside. Then she went in after her and placed the quilt down on the bed. "You probably want to rest. Finn is making dinner right now, I'll have someone bring it down to you."

"Okay." Brittany sat down on the bed and ran her fingers across the quilt.

"You know, we can take you home," Santana offered gently. "To wherever you were...before you went on Karofsky's ship."

Brittany was quiet for a long time. "I don't have a home," she said finally. "It's gone."

"Gone?" Santana looked at Brittany. Her lower lip was trembling and she looked like she was about to cry. "It's okay," she said quickly. "We'll figure something out, once you've rested."

"Thank you so much," Brittany said quietly. Her eyes began to water and Santana awkwardly backed out of the cabin.

"It's nothing," she said. "Really, just make yourself comfortable. I'll make sure you have the food as soon as it's done." She left the cabin and closed the door quietly. After hesitating for a moment, she pressed her ear to the door, wondering if she would hear the sound of Brittany sobbing. But there was silence. She pulled away and went back up onto the deck.

Upstairs, everyone was gathered around the galley. Finn had cooked the beef they'd bought from Karofsky and they were all eager for a taste. Santana couldn't blame them, it wasn't often that they got to have meat that hadn't been salted and preserved. She walked over and found the closest crew member. "Sam," she said. "Take a plate down to Brittany. Be sure to give her some bread, too."

Santana got her own food and went to sit down on the deck, and it wasn't long before Blaine joined her. "Good call on trading with that slaver," he said. "Oh wait...I believe I was the one who insisted on doing that."

Santana took a swig of rum. "You did well, Blaine," she said. "Top notch. Real captain material."

"Even though your voice is dripping with sarcasm, I'm going to take that as a compliment," Blaine said. He paused for a moment to take a large bite. When he'd swallowed it, he said, "So where are we off to next? Did you find out where Brittany lives?"

"It's a little complicated," Santana said. Blaine raised his eyebrows. "She doesn't have a home."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Santana sighed. "She's not exactly the easiest to talk to. I can barely get a few words out of her."

"Well then, what are we going to do with her?" Blaine asked. "We can't exactly keep her here forever. A pirate ship is no place for a girl, anyway."

Santana scoffed. "And what am I? A kraken?"

Blaine laughed. "A kraken? Probably. No, but you hardly count as a girl. I mean that in the best possible way."

"I don't know what way you're talking about," Santana said. "And you seem to have failed to notice that there are three other girls—three women, actually—crewing this ship and one of them is my second mate and a hell of a lot more capable than you are!"

"Alright, alright," Blaine said. "I'm sorry. Can we get back to the issue at hand? We still have a strange girl on our ship who doesn't talk and doesn't have a home, and we have absolutely no idea what to do with her."

Before Santana could respond, Sam approached her. "Uh Santana—Captain, sorry. I took the food down but she was asleep, so I left it on her trunk. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure, that's fine," Santana said. "That way if she wakes up and she's hungry, it'll be there." Sam nodded in relief and hurried off to eat with his friends.

"You seem to care a lot about her," Blaine said. "I never got my food delivered to me."

"That's because you're an incredibly capable human being who was never forced into slavery by an evil Captain Karofsky," Santana said. "But if you'd like special treatment, his ship isn't too far away. I'm sure we can catch up by tomorrow morning."

"Ha ha," Blaine said. "Whatever. You never answered my question about what we're doing with her."

Santana paused. She knew this was her fault, and she had to deal with it—quickly. Puck was right, this was just the kind of thing that could have people questioning whether or not she was suited for captaincy. "Just keep sailing with the wind," she said. "I'll have a plan for a new course by the morning."

"Keep sailing with the wind, that's professional advice," Blaine said. Santana just shrugged.

"At this point, what else are we gonna do?"