-x-
Steam:
slowly changing gears
-x-
It's the fourth time in just a few short weeks. Iceberg stands in the boat, arms out to keep his balance, the rain a noisy patter on the choppy waves. His heart is in his throat watching the ocean churn and bubble, hiss and steam, as the Rocketman goes under again with a great choked noise that's louder than thunder. The railway is ruined, pieces of board and twisted iron clattering against the side of the boat. Whatever's still intact has gone under with Rocketman, and Tom along with it.
It's still too heavy, Iceberg thinks, chewing his lip. He can see the track several yards away where it bows too far under the water to be seen. He wonders if Tom can get it up this time and has the sinking feeling that he can't. It's several minutes before Tom or Yokozuna either one come up, and the frog comes first with a mighty splash just off the rails, heaving for breath as he climbs up into the rain and out of the dark, freezing water.
Tom breaks the surface near the boat, as silent as the sea.
"It's no good, Iceberg," he says lifting a webbed hand to cover his head. He's got a right to look more at a loss than he does. "It's not coming up this way."
"Oh my." Iceberg's shoulders sag as he scans the waves, "It's off the track?"
"By a few yards," Tom says, turning and pointing in the water where Iceberg can't see, but he probably can, "Gone off to the right there. On it's side. Part of the track's twisted up in the back paddles and it'll take some time to get it loose and back upright."
"I could go back for a crane from the shipyard - "
But Tom shakes his head.
"No, we're too far out for a crane," he says, looking back along the tracks. Iceberg knows Tom can't see it over the cresting waves, but Water 7 is just a broad line on the horizon from here, barely visible through the haze of rain. Iceberg's heart sinks even further. The rain sounds too loud. "And we don't have a ship big enough to salvage. It's just too heavy. Yokozuna and I will take her home along the bottom - that'll be the easiest way."
"What can I do, Mr. Tom?"
"Ta-haha! Not a thing." It's just an honest fact, and any despair Tom has seems to vanish as he pats the underside of the boat, gives it a firm push toward Water 7. Iceberg grabs onto the side with both hands so he doesn't fall face-first into the water. He doesn't like this feeling, but Tom is grinning. "You go on home before it gets any worse out here. Help Franky finish up that line of track, we'll need it to repair this first thing tomorrow."
"Oh my... alright."
"I'll see you in the morning."
"Alright."
-x-
"'See you in the morning?' What's, he just gonna spend the night out there?"
Franky casts a skeptical look towards the dark warehouse windows that are shuddering against the wind and rain. The storm has picked up a lot since Iceberg came in by himself and delivered the news, and they've been listening to the storm howl while they assemble the long line of track that's laid out in the dry dock. A lot of the wooden boards are already attached to the woven iron cables Tom made - fitted down over threaded pegs in the cable - and all they have to do is screw on the caps to hold the two of them together. Once they finish this line, they'll roll in into a coil, pull it to the other end of the dock, and lay another line of boards down.
It's boring, repetitive work, but it's gotta be done.
Franky shoots Iceberg a look, but Iceberg is grim-faced, so focused on twisting the caps down on his side of the rail that he doesn't even look up when Franky asks.
It's a dumb question, anyway.
But Franky doesn't like being ignored.
"Hey," he says, a bit louder than before. The word surprises him, bouncing around more in the confined space than he thought it would. Iceberg cuts his eyes up, a look as cold as his name is, and Franky glares right back, shifting forward - he's more than ready to blow off some steam. "The hell's that mean ass look for, huh?"
Color him surprised. Iceberg doesn't say anything at all, drops his gaze and twists a cap in hard enough to dig it into the wood. He shuffles further down the track, thumbs another couple of pegs into the holes of another board, and tightens them in. Iceberg's too pissed off to even fight with him - that sure is a first. Put off, Franky slowly changes gear, tapping the flathead screwdriver against the plank by his knee and watching Iceberg work his way down the line of track.
Iceberg doesn't snap at Franky to pick up the pace or get back to work.
When he does look up it's toward the warehouse door, then right back down again.
You're gonna give yourself a headache frownin' like that, Franky starts to say, smacking the handle of the screwdriver into the palm of his hand, but he bites his tongue. It's not our fault it keeps sinkin' like that, y'know. We'll just have to figure out a way to make it lighter.
That'll all just piss him off more.
So he asks, instead, "Y'think he's gonna be alright out there by himself? I mean, he's got Yokozuna, but..."
Kokoro chooses that moment to come in through the open apartment door, while Iceberg sits back on his heels, levels Franky with another look that's not nearly as chilly as the first one was. Looks like he's thawed out some, but he still doesn't say anything. Kokoro laughs softly as she carries a tray over to the edge of the empty dock, grinning down at them.
She's the one that answers.
"You boys forget who it is you're talking about?" she asks, cheerful tone breaking the mood. She hefts the tray over onto her hip. "Tom's just fine out there. He's more at home in the water than he is on land. Na-gaga~" She glances toward the door, as well. "Still, I at least wish he'd have come in for supper. Now, get on up here, boys! Tom might not be around right now to tell you when it's time to take a break, but I'm sure as sunshine not gonna let you work right through a meal!"
Iceberg's stomach grumbles the same kinda sentiment, loud enough for all three of them to hear.
Kokoro cackles, "Ah, I've got perfect timing, don't I? You hardly ate anything before you were rushing out the door to help Tom earlier. Come on, get up here!"
Resigned, Iceberg pockets the flathead and the handful of caps he has left, getting to his feet and pulling the bandana off his head. Kokoro calls for Franky, next. Franky grins and hurriedly jams a couple of pegs into the board in front of him, mutters, "Yeah, yeah, hang on just a sec!" He tightens them in with a few quick twists, catches up to the plank where Iceberg stopped before he drops his stuff next to the track and pulls himself up out of the dry dock.
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-BobTAC