Summary: follows the story and plight of the Andrea Gail and her unfortunate crew as they head off to sea for one more haul before the end of the season. A new crew mate joins them, the niece of Billy Tyne himself... things get complicated fast as a love found too late blooms and unavoidable tragedy tries to tear it apart. Bobby/OFC
Disclaimer: I do not, in anyway, own this story or the people in it. This was based off a tragic event rewritten as a book and then later turned into a movie... I'm just taking those characters and the story and adding a little twist to it.
Warning(s): Um... nothing really major. There's a bit of cussing, but nothing that wasn't said in the actual movie. So, yeah, nothing really warning worthy.
Special Thanks to all readers and reviewers:
CSIVinDieselAddict:
LaLa-036: ha ha! Yes I did update fast; I had planned to hold that second update off for a while, but decided to jsut hand it over to you guys. Think of it as a present since I highly doubt it'll happen ever again. Enjoy!
Glynnis007:
Littlemissbookworm:
'The Perfect Storm'
Chapter Eight
Deacon had decided to come up to the wheelhouse and have dinner with her uncle later that same day the rogue wave had hit. The man had seemed glad for the company, which made Deacon wonder why he didn't just come down and eat with the rest of them if he wanted someone around so bad. She guessed it was a Billy Tyne thing, something she wouldn't understand if the man sat her down and tried to explain it out to her for an hour. A few minutes into the meal, Billy nodded at her bandaged arm with a smirk and an amused glint in his eyes - that glint had been missing from those eyes for the better part of a week now, so Deacon was glad to see it back all of a sudden.
"Got your first battle wound, I see."
"Yeah," She chuckled, "That and a killer head ache to go with it. Banged my head pretty hard when that damn wave knocked us all over."
"Bobby clean you up?" The man asked around a mouthful of chicken, eyes fixed intently on his niece's face.
"Yeah, why?" She asked him suspiciously, narrowing her own gaze on the man's face. She had a feeling she knew where this conversation was suddenly headed.
Billy just shook his head, shrugging with his face more so then with his shoulders. "No reason. Just making sure he's the kind of man to take care of what he's got."
"Uncle Billy..."
"Hey, it's a legitimate concern for an uncle to have for his niece." The man defended himself, "Men like us on board here, fishing men... they aren't best known for compassion and caring natures. Mostly we're known for drinking, smoking, cussing, and leaving families behind for months to worry. I know men like me, Deac. I'm one of them."
Deacon frowned as she listened to the man.
"I'm just making sure I'm not going along with something we'll both end up regretting." Billy told her, eyes on his plate, "I'm not goin' to let you carry on with a guy who doesn't take care of you. Not when I can stop it."
Deacon's frown turned around, lips lifting into a small smile. This protective side, concerned side of her uncle always let out how much he loved her. It was obvious when he was talking like this, eyes anywhere but on her. She nodded, accepting the man's words and letting him have his moment.
"Bobby took care of me. He's a good man, uncle Billy." She assured her uncle, "He even tried to convince me to lay down and rest while the rest of the crew finished up on deck. I refused, of course, but he watched me like a damn hawk the whole rest of the time on deck like I was going to fall over or something at any moment..." She chuckled, shaking her head at the memory of it. "You don't have to worry so much. He's good to me."
"Good." Billy told her sternly, "I'd have to hook him up and use him for bait if he wasn't."
Deacon grinned, shaking her head at her uncle and they continued their dinner peacefully. Deacon was about to pick up plates and head back down to the cabin for the evening when Billy started up another rather serious subject. She sat back down to listen to him, noticing the tense, uncertain face of the captain she had learned to obey without question over the last month.
"Things aren't going so well here, are they?" Billy had fixed her with a hard stare. The gaze demanded the truth of her and she was caught off guard by it.
The niece considered for a moment before answering her uncle. "Well, it's... it's just that we aren't catching anything anymore. I think everyone's getting nervous about it. I know the guys are concerned they wont be making much on the sets we have is all." She shrugged, feeling awkward telling her uncle this. "So, yeah... I guess things are pretty bad here."
Billy nodded. Her words seemed to have confirmed something he didn't want to accept.
"But cold streaks aren't uncommon," She tried to amend her words, build the man's confidence again. "We're just in a rut is all. It happens. Nothings biting right now, but in a few days I bet things will pick up again."
"We don't have a few days to spare." Billy said and Deacon wasn't sure if it was said more so to her or himself. "We wait around here waiting for something to start biting and we'll run out of time and have to head back with shit."
Deacon's brow furrowed, dropping her gaze to the table they were sitting at together. She didn't know how to help the situation - after all, only a month ago she hadn't even been a proper swordfisher. It had taken time and practice to get to the point she was at and she was willing to bet anything that learning to solve the problem of no fish biting was something only her uncle would ever have enough experience to figure out.
"What will we do then?" She asked carefully, watching Billy's gaze harden tenfold while he thought. "Murph's got his son back home he's got to help support. At the rate we're going he wont make enough to even support himself let alone a little boy."
Billy took this into consideration it seemed, looking at her only while she spoke and then looking away when she was finished. Deacon was pretty sure she was the only one on board that could say something negative towards the sets they were bringing in and not get her head bit off by the captain. In fact, she suddenly realized Bobby must have come up to talk to the captain about the sets himself that night a long while back when she had heard them shouting it out from inside the cabin.
"All we can do is leave this site for another." Billy finally told her, "Head further out to the Flemish Cap. There are fish there. But going out further means being out here longer. Boys are already itching to head home, half of them didn't want to be out here in the first place."
Deacon listened to him while he muttered to himself, realizing the man was talking to himself more so then to her. She could see the struggle in his face - he was getting scared of their situation and it hurt her to see it. Standing up from the table once Billy had turned his thoughts inward rather then speaking them aloud, Deacon stepped around the table and bent to hug the man around the shoulders, hoping to comfort as best she could.
"Do what's right by you. You're the captain after all, take charge and take us out if it means hauling in a better set then what we have so far." She gave the man a grin as she let go, "I'm behind you whatever you do, skip."
The man gave a tired looking smile, amused by the titles she was using now. He nodded as she picked up after them and left the wheelhouse for the cabin, retiring to bed now like he should be doing himself.
Deacon was behind his decision to head out to the Flemish Cap and that made the decision all the more easier to make.
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Deacon had been right about the men becoming more and more uneasy about this trip. They had spent the better half of the evening talking about how someone should say something to Billy, tell the man how it is and demand to go home. They were all pretty set on the going home part, a part Deacon didn't like to think about and so had retired to her and Bobby's bunk while the rest planned and talked. She didn't want to head home any time soon. Going home meant her and Bobby having to go their separate ways, most likely to never see each other again - the thought hurt her and she prayed Billy would head out to the Flemish Cap and prolong their trip even if just for a little while longer.
By morning, the boys had decided. And at lunch Bugsy was sent up to the wheelhouse to inform Billy that his crew wanted to have a word with him. Deacon busied herself with cleaning up the lunch mess, washing the silverware they had used as slowly as she possibly could so as to stay out of the upcoming argument as long as she could. And there would be an argument, she knew there would be one the moment Billy stepped into the cabin with that hard jaw and angry look in his dark eyes.
The talk in the cabin amongst the men died when the captain walked in, all of them watching him pace around and look about the cabin. Deacon could feel Billy's eyes on her back for a long while and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt him look away to the men around the table.
"So what's the word?" Billy's voice was calm, but Deacon knew better then to believe it. Nobody spoke up right away and Deacon winced when someone finally did, recognizing the sound of Bobby's voice speaking up for the rest of them.
"Skip, we're startin' to get an unlucky feeling out here." Bobby began, "I mean, Murph goin' over, the shark, a rogue wave..."
"Yeah, what else?" Billy's voice was tightening and Deacon felt him look at her. She understood the meaning behind those few words more so then the others, she was sure, and she felt herself flush because of them.
"Never mind unlucky, alright?" She heard Alfred Pierre speak up. The man was sporting a black eye from the rogue wave incident. "We're just looking for some fish. I mean, we had slumps before, you and I, but... not like this."
"You boys look like you got busted in a brawl in Scollay Square." Uncle Billy again. Deacon was putting the clean silverware away now, almost finished and realizing she'd soon have to turn and become part of this meeting herself.
"That's how we feel. We want to go home." Bobby said and Deacon felt her heart drop into her stomach. He wanted to go home too. She could feel her uncle bowing up off to her right and finally turned to face the argument he and Bobby were about to get in.
"Bobby, you want to go home?" She watched her uncle approach the younger man as he spoke, "You lonely for that young mama who was all over you at the dock?"
"Skip, my girl is none of your business." Bobby bit back, handsome face twisting angrily as well.
Wow. That had stung. Deacon dropped her gaze from the two men at that, feeling very much so like she was intruding somewhere she shouldn't be. She knew better then to think Bobby was her's and her's alone - she was the other woman after all. But still, it hurt to here him call Christina his girl, wishing it could be her he was talking about instead. She was careful to hide the sting of it, though, crossing her arms over he chest and leaning against the counter with her head dropped like the rest of the crew while Bobby and Billy shared words.
"But you are." Billy snapped, voice raising as he spoke, "And if you don't like it, you can get the hell off!" His gaze shifted to the rest of the men in turn, "All of you." He continued after a shifting of his weight from one foot to the other, "I'm lookin' around and all I see is a bunch of little boys sitting on their asses, too scared to go out and get some pay dirt."
"Pay dirt?" Murph finally jumped in, "What the hell are you talking about, cap? Where the hell is that?"
"We've covered every inch of the Grand Banks," Sully added.
"The Grand Banks are west of us. I'm headed east." Billy snapped again, "The Flemish Cap."
The men shifted around in their places unhappily, Sully tossing an empty carton of cigarettes in the air and on the table with an exasperated and disheartened look on his face. Nobody was happy with this news.
"The Flemish Cap?" Murph repeated unbelievingly, "Oh, you know what, why don't we steam to Portugal while we're at it?" The big man shook his head, dragging violently on his cigarette, sarcastic and visibly angry.
Billy looked around at his crew. He looked disgusted and, to Deacon's acute horror, almost teary eyed. "So this is the moment of truth." He said the words like they left a foul taste in his mouth, "This is were they separate the men from the boys and here we are with Deacon being the only one man enough to take the chance..."
Deacon turned her face away when her uncle nodded back at her. She would have taken the comment as a compliment, beamed at the praise at any other time, but not now. She could feel everyone else looking at her and she felt sick.
"How 'bout it?" Billy asked the rest of the crew, "Are you Gloucester men?"
"Yeah, we're Gloucester men," Sully said, "but why go all the way to the Flemish Cap to prove it?"
"Tell him, Alfred Pierre." Billy addressed the quiet, dark skinned man. Alfred Pierre got out only a single, hesitant word before Billy cut him off, interrupting and answering it himself, "That's were the fish are."
The men looked torn, Murph rubbing his face with the palm of his heavy hand.
"Do we have any choice?" Bobby asked. He still wanted to head in and that practically twisted the knife in Deacon's chest.
"Yeah." Billy all around whispered back, "Crawl home, busted."
It went silent then, everyone thinking it through for themselves. Sully was lighting another cigarette, shrugging and sighing in defeat at the captain's words and the rest of the crew looked pretty much the same. Deacon had her eyes on the floor, avoiding any gaze that might look her way as she listened for the final decision.
"Alright, skip. Alright." They were all muttering, agreeing to head further out east, but doing so reluctantly. It was obvious none of them were happy with it even as they nodded.
"Alright." Billy's expression eased up and he threw a final glance at Deacon before he left the cabin and his crew behind for his wheelhouse once more. Deacon stayed where she was a moment longer, silent and perfectly still, before pushing off the counter and heading out the door herself. Her chest was tight and despite getting what she wanted, more time out at sea, she felt miserable.
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It was a good handful of hours later before Bobby got uneasy. Deacon had left the cabin just after the meeting with the captain and he had figured she'd followed him up to the wheelhouse while the older man set out for those Flemish Caps he was hell bent on getting to. But it was later now and she'd not even come in for dinner tonight, leaving Murph to cook it for them and she still wasn't back now that the meal was over.
The youngest male stepped out of the cabin, figuring he'd go up to the wheelhouse and convince her to come down and eat something. But when he got there he realized Deacon wasn't in the wheelhouse at all. His brow furrowed, looking to Billy questioningly, "Hey... where's Deac?"
The older man sighed, glancing back at Bobby. The man didn't look too happy. "Not in here." He jutted his chin out, gesturing through the window to the bow of the boat, "She's out there. Been there all day."
Bobby followed Billy's gaze, seeing for himself that Deacon was in fact sitting out near the very front of the boat. Alone. He frowned again and nodded his thanks to the captain before heading down to join the girl - it was very strange of her to have come out here, alone, and stayed there all day. He'd never known Deacon to like being alone unless something was wrong... he found it even stranger that she'd not said anything to him about something bothering her.
As he approached the girl he couldn't help but notice that she was smoking. He smirked, settling down beside her with a soft chuckle, "Thought you didn't smoke."
She didn't look at him. "I don't."
"What do you call that then?"
She shook her head, staring at the burning end of the white stick. She shrugged, "Well, it was this or jumping off the bow."
Bobby's frown returned, "Huh?"
"Nothing, Bobby." She sighed heavily, dragging on the cigarette again, "I just figured I'd give it another try. And realized it helped me think so I kept doing it."
Bobby nodded, accepting the answer, but his frown remained in place. He looked over her profile slowly, "What're thinking about that it took all day out here to do it?"
Deacon shook her head again, very much aware that her uncle was watching the two of them from his place in the wheelhouse. She'd yet to look at Bobby since he'd sat beside her and she refrained from doing so now as she spoke, "You wanted to go home."
"Well, yeah..." Bobby nodded, not seeing a problem with it. "I'm tired of working my ass off everyday and havin' nothing to show for it. We haven't caught anything in forever... you telling me you like busting your ass out here, puttin' up with shit like sharks and rogue waves for the no account set we got in the coolers?"
"You really don't get it, do you?" Deacon finally looked at him, brow set in a deep crease and head shaking slowly in disbelief at him. It hurt to look at him and so she looked away again, breathing a little harder then normal. She ground out to him, like it was painful to say, "It has nothing to do with the fish."
Bobby sighed, reaching out to touch her shoulder, "Look... Deac, I told you, you don't have to worry about Thomas or anyone else when we-"
"This isn't about him either!" She spat out furiously, throwing his hand off of her, "It's not about fish or the work or Thomas or my father or anything! This is about you!" She stopped, breathing hard and tossing her cigarette away as she lifted a hand to rub against her face. Her words were muffled by the hand on her face, but the sadness in them was clear as day, "God damn it, Bobby..."
The man was silent, watching her in complete and utter confusion. She was right, he didn't get it. He'd figured her distress about their almost heading in for home was over Thomas and being forced to go back to Manchester, but now that she had thrown that theory out the window he didn't know what to make of her mood anymore. She'd said it was about him, Bobby, but he didn't understand what he had done or hadn't done to cause such emotional suffering in her.
"You remember yesterday," She stared again, voice and expression barely under control, "before the wave hit? You remember what I asked you?"
Bobby shook his head, drawing another distressed sound from the woman.
"God..." She pushed hair from her face, expression miserable once again. She took a breath, "I asked you where the two of us were headed. What'll happen when we get to Gloucester and Christina comes running up the dock to welcome you home?"
She watched as Bobby's expression shifted. He remembered now.
"You really gonna tell me you'll turn her away and me and you will keep at it like we have been on here? That we're gonna start a life together, just the two of us?" She asked softly, watching him carefully.
He set his jaw, reaching for her hand this time as he nodded, "Yes."
"Bullshit!" She blew up, pulling away from his touch with a furious glare fixed on him. "No you are not! You're not gonna do that to her, you son of a bitch! She loves you!"
"You saying you don't feel shit for me yourself?" He spat back.
"What I feel doesn't matter!"
"Like hell it doesn't!"
"It doesn't, Bobby!" She jumped to her feet, watching him do the same in front of her. "Christina loves you! You loved her when you left Gloucester, you loved her the night you told me about her, and you love her now! Don't you dare try and tell me you don't!"
"Yeah," Bobby nodded, agreeing with her. "I do. But I love you too."
"Fuckin' liar!" She lashed out at him, aiming to punch him square in the jaw, but he caught her wrist in his hand and stopped it. "Don't you say that!"
"I do!"
"No you don't! Shut up!"
They fought, physically, Deacon hitting the man where ever she could land a blow and being none too easy about it either. He let her, doing nothing more then try and contain her hands, stop their wild thrashing and hold them down to stop the struggle she was putting up with him. It lasted no more and thirty seconds or so, but seemed so much longer from their point of view. Neither willing to give in. In the end, though, Deacon stopped putting up a fight with the man and let him pull her into his chest, her arms pinned between his chest and her's with Bobby's arms wrapped so tight around her it was hard to breath. She cried in front of him for the second time, face pressed into his neck and against his shoulder as he held her - he let her cry, not saying a word about it, allowing her to get it out of her system and calm her down.
"It's not fair." She finally spoke again, tears drying up but far from gone, "It's not fair. It's not."
"Hey," Bobby shushed her, hands coming up to grasp both sides of her face in his hands and lift her head to look her in the eyes. "This is crazy, Deacon. Just 'cause we'll head home at one point or another doesn't mean I'm gonna push you aside and forget about you. Sweetheart, I couldn't if I tried."
"But," She shook her head, "you'd have to."
"Says who?"
"Says me!" She exclaimed, latching onto his hands with her own, "What would you tell her? Tell her you went away for awhile and decided you'd rather be with me then her? She doesn't deserve that! No woman ever deserves that!"
"Deacon-"
"I won't let you hurt her like that! That's cruel and you aren't like that, Bobby. You can't be like that!" She persisted, "When we pull in to Gloucester you have to go to her and show her you love her like she deserves. You have to forget about me because you and me... all this shit between us isn't right! You being here with me now is wrong!"
"Deacon, stop it." Bobby's voice hardened.
She shook her head, pushing his hands away and turning her back on him. "When we get back to Gloucester in November or whenever the hell we get there, you have to go and ask that girl to marry you right then and there, ring or not, and forget you ever knew a thing about me."
"Why the hell would you tell me to do that?" Bobby snapped angrily from behind her, "You say you love me, but you want me to be with someone else?" It sounded crazy to him and he couldn't understand it.
"Damn it, Bobby! No I don't!" She shouted over her shoulder at him, holding down more tears. "But it's what's right! And it fuckin' hurts because I want you for myself and I know I can't have you..."
And maybe Bobby understood then, maybe just a little. He understood enough to realize the struggle she was fighting inside to tell him these things, understood how much it hurt her to push him away like this if nothing else. He could see it in the shaking line of her back and had felt it when she cried on his shoulder.
"I love you." He told her, wrapping his arms around her again from behind, speaking softly against her ear. She tried to throw him off, but he stopped the fight before it broke out. "Hey... I love you, ok?"
"Stop it, Bobby." He could hear the misery in her voice and he hated it, "It isn't funny."
"I'm not fuckin' laughing, Deac." He told her calmly, scowling to hear she thought he was messing with her about this. "I do."
"And Christina?"
"Stop thinkin' about her." He told her, commanding her to cast the woman from her mind, softly. He kissed the top of her head. "You let me figure out Christina."
"I wont let you hurt her." Deacon told him stubbornly and he knew she was serious.
"By hurting yourself?"
"I don't care about that."
"What if it hurt me too?"
She hesitated at that and he felt her heave a heavy sigh, "You'd get over it."
"I doubt that."
"Liar. You'd remember how much you love her and forget about me in a week."
"No I wouldn't; that isn't funny, Deacon."
"I wasn't trying to be."
Bobby shook his head, dropping a kiss to her shoulder and feeling a small tug of happiness in the pit of his stomach when she tilted her head to rest it against the side of his.
Billy had watched all of this from his place in his wheelhouse. He shook his head at the two out on the bow of his boat, sighing heavily and unsure of what to make of them. They went from companionable to furiously fighting and then to looking so in love that even Billy had to smile because of it. It was a strange thing those two had going on, something hard and complicated that Billy knew he himself wouldn't have been able to deal with like they did - he would have given up a long while ago and he had to give Bobby credit for not walking away the second Deacon had started trying to knock his lights out.
Billy chuckled. That had been rather amusing to watch - Deacon had always been a fighter, but he hadn't expected her to lash out like that at someone she claimed to love. But then again, he reasoned, maybe it was easier for her to do just that because she did love the man.
Billy shook his head again, lifting his eyes from the pair. They seemed to have made up in some manner now and it didn't sit well with him to watch the two anymore - he didn't wanna have to watch what would come next.
"Whiskey-Yankee-Charlie, 6-6-8-1, do you read me?"
Billy had to grin again as a voice he knew all to well called out to him from the radio over his head. He took the mouth piece down and responded with a chuckle, "This is Andrea Gail, Whiskey-Yankee-Charlie, 6-6-8-1. Hey, Linda."
"Ahoy, captain Tyne, what's happening?" She said back to him and Billy grinned again at her cheekiness.
"Too much to say." He sighed, glancing to see Bobby leading Deacon off back to the cabin by the hand. "Where are you?"
"Tail of the Banks. Kicking up something wicked here." She sounded exasperated by that, but her mood lifted as she continued, "Made a couple of sets though."
"Doing any good?"
"Yeah... Nine first set. Twelve - - No, make that a baker's dozen, second. Got a couple of markers to boot."
"Man, that hand of your's is so hot, I can feel the heat from here." He tried not to sound too put out by her good fortune.
"I've asked you to team up..."
"I don't like partners." He immediately responded, but then thought better of it and added, "Business-wise, that is."
"Okay-okay." She laughed from her side of the line, "What's your position?"
"Uh... 46 north, 48 west."
"You headed for the Flemish Cap?" She sounded surprised and perhaps more then a little worried.
"The lady knows her coordinates." He smiled again, "Yeah, I'm steaming full-bore."
"The Flemish Cap is nearly off the charts. What the hell are you trying to prove?" Her concern was obvious now and Billy had to bite his tongue to keep from sighing. Even though, secretly, he'd be a liar even to himself if he tried to think he didn't like Linda worrying over him. He liked the thought of Linda thinking about him at all - he'd never admit it aloud though. "Come on, you've seen the forecast. We got gale-force comin' out of Bermuda, stuff comin' out of Sable Islands. And as for me, I'm staring here at solid white chop."
He made to interrupt her, but again, he thought better of it.
"This could be a triple-header."
"Linda, you're behind me. So is your weather." He told her matter of factly.
"Yeah, but Billy, you've gotta go through it to get back."
"Good point." He reasoned, smirking into he radio as he could hear her frowning in her voice.
"Billy, you're not gonna like this, but I'm gonna say it anyway:..." She paused and he waited patiently for her to continue, listening intently for whatever she had to say, "You be careful."
Billy smiled wide into the radio. If ever he was to marry again, it would be to this woman. "Yes, Mother." He knew she wouldn't like his response, but couldn't help smiling anyway, "Why don't we pick this up later? Over and out."
He put up the radio and continued onward as planned.
REVIEW PLEASE! Comments and constructive criticism welcomed!
I apologize for any and all spelling/grammatical errors that might be found while reading. I have no beta and I tend to read over mistakes...
