When Cassandra woke, she emerged from her room to find the atmosphere aboard her ship subdued. That was understandable; one of her pirates had just tried to kill the others. She would deal with him later, but she was more concerned with her conscious crewmembers. Despite it being the middle of the day, the main deck was devoid of life. The only pirate she could see was Cain, who was slumbering on the forecastle deck. His bandages were clearly visible beneath his usual brown vest and pants, but his thundery snores indicated that he was in relatively good health.
She couldn't smell anyone on the poop deck behind her, but she knew who was in the galley. Lyn glanced up when door opened, and her electric blue eyes filled with happiness. "Captain! You're okay!"
Cassandra couldn't help but smirk. "Weren't you the one who said I'm always okay so long as I'm alive and rested?" She was nevertheless swept up in a tight hug, spun around several times, and showered with kisses. Cassandra laughed as Lyn put her down, checking to make sure the artist wasn't overly injured. "And shouldn't you be taking it easy?"
Lyn glanced down at the cast encasing her leg. "Nah, don't worry about it. I've got better balance than you, remember?"
"You do not," Cassandra protested, snaking an arm beneath her first mate's armpits. She knew perfectly well that Lyn could manage on her own, but she still wanted to be supportive. "Anyway, how did everything go when I was out? Did the backstreet doctor help you out?"
"He did." She turned to face Morgan, who was sitting at the table, his face swathed in bandages. The holes left for his eyes and mouth revealed the puffy purple skin beneath, though his glare was still as sharp as ever.
"Now, now, Morgie," Lyn scolded. "Doc said you shouldn't speak until the swelling goes down a bit. I gave you the pen and paper for a reason."
The prince glowered at her for a moment before slowly reaching over for his writing utensils. While he wrote down his thoughts, Lyn filled her captain in on what had transpired during her recovery. "So after you gave Doc instructions on what to do, you conked out. Damien was the first because he was gonna die and his spirits were busy keeping his guts from freezing. How did you make that shot?"
"Damien's bones may be harder than most metals, but they aren't harder than seastone. Was his rib salvageable?"
"Yeah, got shoved into place and screwed together because metal won't heal. That was a kickass shot, by the way. You didn't even hit his liver. Anyway, once he got out the pieces of ice, Damien went from 'seriously about to die' to 'probably going to die' and it was only a loooooooong surgery until he was basically out of the woods."
Morgan held up his notepad. Time that would have been better spent on the rest of us.
Cassandra couldn't see the essay he had been writing previously because he had covered it up with his hand. Knowing she would get the chance to read it soon enough, she gestured for Lyn to continue. "Anyway, Alexander had lots of ribs broken, but his aren't metal, so Doc gave him some instructions and told him to take it easy until they healed. That means no music or yelling. Morgie's favorite color is purple, so he's not too upset that his face is purple now. He suffered what now?"
He glared at her as he raised the notepad again. A facial fracture, a laryngeal fracture, a hip dislocation, several broken bones, and assorted cuts and bruises.
"You have nice handwriting. He got a facial fracture, but not one that needed metal plates or anything. He's not supposed to blow his nose or hit his head and he should keep speaking to a minimum. His throat didn't need repairing, but he needs medication and a humid environment for that. The hip was reset and he needs anti-inflammatory medicine for that too. And of course, he needs to exercise his leg and hand to keep them from growing stiff. And solid food might be painful for a while."
The two women patiently waited for him to finish his furious writing. I will not be spoonfed soup like some invalid. I will require assistance, but I will be able to prepare and consume our usual fare.
Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Morgan, this is no time for your idiotic pride. There's no shame in having to be fed if that's what's required. Damien has been fed countless times when he can't move anything."
"Like now!" Lyn provided. "So yeah, you can help with cooking, as long as you don't do much moving, but I'll feed you, so don't worry!"
The prince stared at her. That is acceptable.
"It doesn't matter what you deem to be acceptable. You'll accept the soup regardless of who's feeding you. Anyway, you appear to be well enough. How about Cain?"
Lyn heaved a loud sigh of exasperation. "Spirits of saints, he's almost as bad as Damien. Cut to ribbons, burns all over his torso, broken arm, his body's one big bruise, and he still insisted on carrying everyone back to the Knave once Doc was finished with him. I told him a thousand times to take it easy, but he just didn't listen. Come inside Cain? No way, I'm fine out here. What if it rains or snows? Nothing I haven't endured before, complete mountain badass that I am. Grand Line isn't like your home. Then I'm sure in for a treat. He wouldn't budge an inch, no matter how much I tried!"
Cassandra couldn't stop laughing at Lyn's blustering imitation of Cain's deep voice. Even Morgan cracked a smile, though the following wince indicated that even such a small movement was painful for him. "Winter Isle bodyguards are built tough, seems like. Their princes are too, but you are out of your goddamn mind if you think I'm letting any solid food pass your lips anytime soon. Just focus on healing and hope that Damien isn't hogging all of the healing spirits Alexander summoned."
Do you really believe Alexander's claim of this so-called healing field surrounding this ship?
"Whether I believe it or not is irrelevant. Fact is that people do seem to recover more quickly when they're on board, and if Alexander thinks it's because of his spirits, I'm not one to argue. Besides, how do you think he causes those sound blasts or Damien summons fire and refuses to die no matter how many bullets I put in him?"
Morgan shook his head, indicating his lack of answers.
"Exactly. I don't care how they do what they do so long as they can do it. So, you all got patched up, we're down to about thirty thousand Beli, and we're out at sea once more. I'm absolutely starving. Did you get the chance to prepare breakfast?" The cook held up the notepad that he had been writing extensively in, but Cassandra waved it aside. "I know what you want to discuss, but it'll have to wait until I've eaten. After doing all of that healing, I need to replenish my energy."
"I remembered that!" Lyn exclaimed. "It's not really a breakfast meal, but I made a biiiiig pot of stew for you. It's been sitting on the stove, so it should still be warm." Morgan pointed emphatically at himself, eliciting an eye roll from Lyn. "Okay, you told me how to make the stew, but I was the one who actually made it. Besides, you had some already and you said I did 'a passable job.'"
Cassandra would have glared at the cook were it not for the grumble from her stomach that drowned out Cain's snores. Ignoring Lyn's amused giggle, she hastened over to the pot and grabbed a ladle. Part of her did appreciate the taste of the stew, but she was primarily concerned with bringing the contents of the entire pot into her stomach. She realized how ravenously hungry she was as she chewed and swallowed as fast as humanly possible.
"'Isn't that unsanitary?' First of all, I bet you she's going to finish all of it. Second, you do realize that she's the healthiest out of all of us, right? She just heals away any sickness or anything like that. She's awesome!"
"You've never gotten sick either," Cassandra reminded her between mouthfuls.
"There's a difference between 'haven't ever gotten sick' and 'can't ever get sick,' Captain. Jay's still sleeping, in case you're wondering."
"Oh right, he's here now. Well, Damien did gouge out his eyes. Regenerating something that complex isn't easy. That, and I know better than to lose my eyes. He should be fine in another few hours."
Lyn hobbled over and drew her captain into a deep hug. The ladle fell from Cassandra's fingers and rang the empty pot as she rested her hand on the affectionate pirate's head. She closed her eyes as she felt the familiar pressure at her temples that indicated Lyn wanted to share a memory. She was subjected to a brief series of disjointed flashbacks of Lyn pacing in Doc's office, personally overseeing each and every one of her nakama's operations, of Lyn's left hand resting on her sword hilts and her right fingers interlaced with Cassandra's, of Lyn alone in the crow's nest with the rest of the crew asleep, praying with all her might that everything would be all right.
Cassandra hated how easy it was to forget that Lyn's smile didn't always indicate that she was happy.
She twisted around in Lyn's embrace and returned it in kind. She pressed her lips to Lyn's cheek as they slowly rocked back and forth. As much as Lyn worked like an emotional healer, she could not heal herself as easily. She was a strong woman, one of the strongest Cassandra had ever met, but she hurt just like everybody else. "You did a great job," Cassandra whispered in her ear. "You were amazing. Nobody else could have done what you did. It may have been luck that I found you first, but I couldn't imagine anyone else as my first mate. I wouldn't want anyone else. You and I are here for each other, remember? I promise, I'll never ever leave you. You can always count on me."
Lyn's voice was almost inaudible. "Don't make promises you can't keep."
Cassandra pulled back to show Lyn her most arrogant smirk. "I never do."
The first mate's smile faltered at first, but swiftly grew as radiant as ever. "Then I'll hold you to it."
"Good. Now," she released her hold and turned to face Morgan. "I believe you had something you wanted to say to me, undoubtedly concerning our darling navigator. I want you to understand that ordinarily, I would tear that paper up. I'm growing very tired of people questioning my decision. It isn't your place to say anything about who gets to be on my crew. It isn't Cain's; it isn't Raven's. Lyn and Alexander, as first and second mates, have certain privileges that accompany those positions, but they also know when it is appropriate to question me.
"However, an event has recently transpired that does deserve close examination: Damien tried to kill all of us. Luckily, we managed to survive. Unluckily, I had really hoped to save that bullet. Part of what makes Damien so unreasonably hard to take down is that doing the same thing twice doesn't work against him. Now, no thanks to those confounded Marines, I have to figure out another failsafe. But the fact remains that he did try to kill us all, and it was by fortune and skill that all six of us left Brickwork intact." She paused as she looked over Morgan's injuries. "More or less."
Lyn pushed herself off of the counter she had been resting her head on. "Alexander and Cain are waking up. We should talk about this as a crew."
The pirate captain bowed her head in thanks. "Indeed we should. Morgan, we all know you're not crippled, but let's face the fact that it would be easier if you were helped outside."
He glared at her for a moment before nodding his consent. While Lyn quickly exited the galley with the aid of her new crutches, Cassandra lifted Morgan's chair and carried him outside. When she set him down, he pointedly looked anywhere else but her. The main hatch was open, with Cain carefully lifting Alexander's bed to the main deck.
With all of the pirates gathered, Cassandra cleared her throat to get their attention. "As you all know, Damien went out of control two days ago. This was different from anything he has done before. While he has no care for our wellbeing, he does hold himself back somewhat when he's around us. As Lyn has pointed out in the past, he knows how not to go beyond our capacity for injury. After all, Lyn and Alexander are not as resilient as me and Cain, yet he has sparred with all of us without causing any real injury. When he was angry with me before he figured out I had my Devil Fruit, he was nowhere near as rough with me as he is now.
"Still, there is a reason I prefer his fights to be away from the rest of you. He can lose sight of who he is fighting. Raven observed that his behavior is growing more erratic. This is true. When he fought Madaxe, he was able to shake off that rage and listen to me. Now, he turned on all of us. He is growing stronger by the day, and even Jordan, who is supposed to be here to aid in protecting us from him, wasn't able to do much. It was only because of Raven's parting gift, the crazy prepared woman that she is, that we were able to take him down this time. Next time will be more difficult.
"Morgan, I believe you had something to say." He gave her the paper covered in his writing. "Damien is a monster who cannot be controlled. He is a threat to all of us and has no place on this crew. His indiscriminate slaughter will bring more harm than good, and his fighting prowess does not help the crew if he turns upon us. Raven was the only one who could stop him, and with her departure, we are much less safe. A man without regard for his crewmembers does not deserve to be a crewmember.
"Raven has mentioned that Damien's strength and fighting skill have not actually benefitted the crew in any way. This begs the question of why he is still aboard this ship. I realize that some of us have unreciprocated emotional connections with him, but that does not justify his presence. That only blinds them from the fact that they live in proximity with an omnicidal maniac with no care for those he constantly abuses.
"What is even more astounding is that there seems to be an unspoken acknowledgment that he does not belong. Although references to the entire crew include him, he is not part of the established hierarchy. He operates outside of the rules and laws established by you yourself and is not held responsible for his actions, which are usually handwaved aside as him just 'being who he is.' While efforts are made to include him, his aversion to our company is readily accepted without question.
"I realize that some of my previous observations can also apply to Raven. The main difference between them is that Raven rigidly and unfailingly adheres to your orders and does her job without question. Damien was assigned the position of the navigator because in West Blue, the slight magnetism of his bones gave him an edge in that area, but that does not matter in the Grand Line. He is simply a helmsman with an admittedly keen sense of direction and who does not need to leave simply because the weather changes. It would be unquestionably easy to recruit another person with a similar skillset who does not need to be monitored at all times lest he turn on the crew.
"I feel free to express my opinion because, as I have mentioned previously, Damien does not fall within standard crew parameters. You yourself said that my restrictions regarding compliance and complaints do not apply to him. Thus, I feel it is acceptable and necessary to address his presence on this crew. It is out of concern for my wellbeing and those of my crewmembers that I speak out now. There will come a time when he grows too powerful for any of us to stop, especially because of Raven's absence of indeterminate duration."
Cassandra paused before she read his final sentence. Her eyes hardened as her gaze met Morgan's. She crumpled the paper in her fist and tossed it in his lap. "Are you prepared to sacrifice us for him?"
"That's absurd," Alexander said immediately. "Captain isn't sacrificing us by allowing him to stay."
We live with a man who will turn upon us at any given moment, and not even teamwork can stop him. How is that not a sacrifice?
"Look, I know his moods aren't exactly predictable, but it's not like he'll just decide to kill us all one day. In case you haven't noticed, even during his mood swings, he still holds back from causing us too much harm. This time, there was a pretty obvious trigger that set him off."
"We are pirates, Alexander," Cain reminded him. "Captain Libera is a wanted woman. We will undoubtedly come across Marines in the future, and suffering injuries such as the ones we have now will eventually take their toll."
The musician angrily turned to face him. "So now you're also going to drive Damien away?"
"He didn't say that," Cassandra said sternly. "I know Damien is your friend, but try to take things a little less personally."
"Damien is more than my friend," Alexander seethed. "We are closer than brothers. My blood runs in his veins. We have been together through everything. We learned how to communicate with spirits together. We played together, studied together, laughed together. We were planning on making our own crew. We-"
"Alexander." The musician ceased his tirade, his hand on his injured chest in an effort to keep it from heaving. He simply stared angrily at his captain. "Nobody is denying Damien is important to you. You two might share the closest bond out of any two of us, and that's saying a lot. But I'm asking you to look at this from our perspective as well. We don't share the same history with him that you do. We don't know the man who played with you and studied with you. All we know is exactly who he is now, and considering how open he is about himself, I think it's pretty safe to assume we know him."
Precisely. It is time we were rid of him.
"Now hold on a second," Alexander snapped. "I seem to recall a certain someone that tried to kill our captain in cold blood. Did we put him from the crew, regardless of how badly we wanted to at the time?"
Morgan matched Alexander's glare. It would be foolish of you to ignore the penances I am paying for my actions, particularly since you aided our Captain in determining them. What has Damien had to endure?
"Morgan is right," Cain said. "Damien has rarely, if ever, been punished for his actions."
"That's because he hasn't done anything that deserved punishment." Everyone stared incredulously at the musician. "He hasn't done anything to us that deserved punishment."
The pirates paused as they thought about Alexander's words. "It is true that Damien has committed very serious, very despicable crimes basically everywhere we've stopped," Cassandra said slowly. "But you are also correct that he has never used excessive force on any of us."
"Besides Raven."
Cassandra nodded to Cain. "She doesn't count because he couldn't defeat her, even at his strongest. Even before our last scuffle with the Net, he didn't go overboard. He could have, but he didn't. The point is that two days ago, he did. He attacked all of us with intent to kill. If he hadn't already been on death's door when he turned on us, all of us would be dead, including him. If he hadn't been injured, there would be no Black Glove Pirates."
Everyone clearly grasped the gravity of that statement. Alexander's temper visibly cooled at the thought, and he slumped back on his bed. The only sounds were the pulsing surf and the scratching of Morgan's pen. As he was the only one who seemed ready to say something, they all waited for him to finish. Now, I know you have your rule. Barring murder of a fellow crewmember, you will not force one of us to leave. However, this case does not fit. Attempted murder of the entire crew might be construed as wanting to be rid of us. Now, I believe killing him would be the safer idea. I realize that some of us will protest this decision, but the last thing we need is him coming after us if we do kick him out.
"An eye for an eye." Cassandra glanced over at Lyn and realized that she had remained silent until now. "A tooth for a tooth. Do you know what that means?"
Morgan looked puzzled. It means justice should be served, retaliation is what is right.
"No. It means the person is punished to a degree similar to his crime. Damien hasn't killed any of us. We will not kill him."
Cassandra bowed her head. "Well said. She's right. I will not kill him. That was the deal. He kills one of us; I kill him. Well, Raven was going do it, but I'm sure I can handle it. As it is, he's scared us, he's hurt us, and he's beaten us into the ground."
"Scared us?" Alexander asked.
"You, my friend, are almost as insane as he is," Cassandra said. "Damien's bloodthirst would make even the strongest warriors take him seriously. When he came up, I was afraid, and may I remind you that I grew up in an environment with people who could kill me without looking at me. So when I saw that you walked up to him like he was an unruly child, I knew that your head isn't screwed on right either."
Alexander leveled an even gaze. "Is there a point to all this?"
Morgan raised his hand to ensure he was the one who answered the question. Through good times and bad, we are a pirate crew. To a pirate crew, their ship is their home. Home is a safe place where we can let our worries go. Constantly living in fear is not part of an ideal living environment.
"We know that Damien holds back, but we still have to pray we don't piss him off." Cassandra waved her hand. "That's not the point. He must be punished. However, there is a slight problem with punishing Damien. Namely, I don't have a clue how to do it. It's tricky, especially since Raven's gone."
What is so difficult about it? He has physically injured us. Is it not tradition for him to be similarly punished?
"See, that's the thing. Punishment is supposed to discourage the punishee from repeating their actions. Damien considers it a good day if he comes back with part of his body missing. Unlike you, he has nothing to take away. He has no possessions he would miss. Sure, he has certain likes, raw meat and alcohol that would kill the rest of us, but he doesn't care if he doesn't get them. I could give him orders, but he'd just ignore them."
Morgan sat bolt upright as inspiration struck him. He scribbled madly as a small grin spread across his bruised lips. As I recall, there is one additional instance where you would remove someone from your crew. As we determined, if left unaddressed, his presence will get us killed. That is a life or death situation that would warrant Captain's Orders. Disobeying them would warrant his banishment.
Cassandra saw this as a fair point. She used Captain's Orders on Morgan when he was merely holding up their departure. Granted, she hadn't been in the greatest of moods, but this was a far more deserving instance. Using them now would truly test whether Damien still wanted to be on her crew or not.
"No." Lyn stepped forward to attract Morgan's attention. "Captain isn't giving Orders to punish someone."
Then what do you propose she do?
"Lock him up."
"I had thought of that," Cassandra said, "but the problem is that imprisoning him has its own problems. Even barring the logistics of it, his main purpose aboard our crew is taking on opponents we couldn't otherwise, especially with Raven gone. Jordan can certainly help, but you saw how Damien destroyed him. As much as I hate to say it, Damien is my new trump card, and keeping him incarcerated deprives me of that."
"Not to mention that he'll probably try to kill you when you let him out," Cain said.
"I'm actually not worried about that. Don't ask why. Nor am I concerned with how we're going to do it. My point is we'll only get to keep him locked up until we need him. We're in the Grand Line; that wouldn't be longer than a week, even excluding the time he needs to recover enough to be put in irons. Do I just lock him up after that? Does he just become a beast I release when I need something obliterated?"
You mean he isn't already?
"Damien is a human being," Alexander insisted. "He's mentally unwell, I'll give you that, but he's still human and has the same rights as we do."
I have seen him squeeze a girl's arm until her bones turned to powder simply to attract the attention of some strong opponents. No human does that.
"He's a bastard, all right," Cassandra said, having long grown used to the atrocities her friends were capable of committing. "But he's our bastard, and I grow tired of repeating the circumstances required for me to kick him out. Imprisonment will do until I figure out some better way of doing it. Cain, how do you feel about remodeling the Knave out here at sea?"
"I can do anything you wish, Captain Libera."
"Good. You're going to make room in the rear cargo bay since I won't stick him in medical bay. His restraints have some specifics you'll need to work in. How're your fingers?"
He opened his vest and gingerly withdrew a few tools. While he was nowhere near as fast as he usually was, he was still able to fashion an ornate dagger from a splinter he peeled from the damaged foremast. "I can make anything you want, Captain Libera."
Cassandra shook her head as she accepted the weapon. "Lyn's right. You really don't accept downtime, do you. Still, that just goes to show why you were assigned as the prince's bodyguard. After all, you always need to be prepared for an attack, even if you just survived one, am I right?"
The gigantic pirate rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. "It's just my job, ma'am."
"And you don't know how thankful I am that you kick ass at what you do. Lyn, Morgan, get on whatever meal is coming up. Get Jordan to help you. Don't let him give you any shit; remind him that he's completely failing at holding up his part of the deal. Alexander, rest up. I'm going to need your alchemy and input. Cain, please lower Alexander back into the medical bay."
As the pirates went to their respective locations, Cassandra stared off over the ocean. There were some clouds in the distance she didn't like the look of, but she knew better than to trust her eyes when it came to weather in the Grand Line. The skies could change in an instant, regardless of how it looked at any given time.
"You have more orders for me, Captain Libera."
"Very astute, my friend." She slowly rotated the wooden dagger in her fingers. "You and I have a task ahead of us."
\\'/.\\'/.\\'/.\\'/.\\
Damien's eyes slowly opened. The slow blinks indicated his gradual rise from consciousness. His pupils dilated as they tried to pierce the darkness. He tried to look around, but realized he could barely move. He tried to struggle, but he couldn't move more than a fraction of an inch against his restraints. He tried to roar, but the mask covering the lower half of his face prevented him from opening his mouth. He closed his eyes as he prepared to summon the flames that would surely free him of his restraints.
None came.
A bright light flared off to his side, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut. When they opened again, he saw Jordan leaning against a stack of crates, a lit cigarette in her mouth. A prominent click marked the closing of a lighter. The androgyne stared at him, smoke obscuring her face.
"You're awake."
His head snapped forwards, the chains binding him rattling violently. Cassandra sat on a chair a few feet away, one leg crossed over the other. She fixed him with an even stare as he strained towards her. A muted growl grew in his throat, but she ignored it. She patiently waited for his night vision to return. She did not need any light to see him clearly, but she wanted him to be able to see her, to some extent.
"You've been a naughty boy, Damien. You and I have a lot to talk about. Jay's only here because she's still pretty pissed at you. I don't know if you remember that Raven left our crew?" He only glared at her, his chest expanding and contracting as he slowly breathed. "No? Well, that's fine. I don't expect you to. See, our dearest doctor took a leave of absence. She won't be back for quite some time. Jay, here, graciously volunteered to take her place, so to speak. She was supposed to guard me from you."
Cassandra leaned in. "You beat her into the ground and proceeded to pulverize the rest of us."
Damien glanced at the androgyne, not even batting an eye as she blew a cloud of smoke in his direction.
"Now, as you can expect, that's not really allowed. Thus, you have been restrained. I do know how you don't kneel, but here you are. Your hands are trapped on the ground too, unless I release you. Collar and muzzle were necessary too. I'm sure you've tried to melt the entire ensemble by now, but that's not gonna happen. Nevermeltice keeps that away. I was going to bandage the restraints, but your skin is so hard to tear that I don't think I have to worry.
"I'm going to release some of these so you can stand. I'm afraid you won't be able to move from that spot, but it'll keep the nerve and blood vessel damage down. You are still my top fighter, and I do want to keep you in good condition, after all."
She advanced and crouched before the kneeling pirate. Even in the darkness, she could see the anger in his eyes. That was to be expected; she would be astonished if there weren't. She was, however, surprised at how little anger there was. As she undid the chain holding his head down, he reared back and rotated his head around to loosen it up. When she unlocked the restraint pinning his hand to the floor, he immediately drew back the freed appendage, only to be halted by the chain connecting it to the ground.
"By all means, you can try to break them," Cassandra said conversationally as she released his other hand. "These have been extensively tested by both Jay and Cain. You haven't been in these for too long, but they'll hold for a while. We'll be performing routine maintenance to ensure you don't go escape and go gallivanting about without my permission."
After undoing the latches keeping his legs pinned, he clambered to his feet and stood at his full height. He stared down at his captain, his glare still hot with fury. She reached around his head and loosened the straps keeping the mask on his face. She let it fall to his chest as he worked his freed jaw.
"I'm sure you're thirsty. Drink." He guzzled the water in the bowl she pushed before him with her foot. Cassandra returned to her chair and crossed her arms. "You won't get food for a while, six days to be precise. I know you need food to recover, but that will have to wait. It's part of your punishment. I will need to feed you eventually because I will need you in fighting shape, but until then you aren't allowed food or movement. Your batshit insane training regimen will have to be put on hold too. You'll survive, won't you?"
She didn't really expect a response. She wasn't disappointed.
"You flipped out and nearly exterminated my crew, our crew. That has consequences. As I've discussed extensively with the others, you're a real pain in the ass to punish. For now, you're confined to this room. You can stand up when I say you can, but otherwise you don't budge at all. It was hard to construct this and move it in here, but I think we pulled it off. Simple mechanisms for everything, and it would be a lot easier if you didn't try to escape. It would just be less work for the rest of us.
"Would you like to know what you've missed since you've been out? Not much, really. Only saw one ship, and it turned tail when the lookout got a good look at our colors. Don't know if it was because we're pirates or because we're the Black Glove Pirates, but whatever. You missed a big storm, real nasty one. Could definitely have used you at the helm. You would have loved it. Waves the size of mountains, sea black as ink, thunder and lightning crashing down around us. Morgan's happy that he doesn't have to cook as much now that you're in here. He's still pissed that you busted him up so bad. But Jay's not bitter at all, are you, Jay?"
"Of course not," the assassin grated out. "We fought, I lost."
"See? No bad blood between you two. Alexander and Lyn are fine, relatively speaking. You busted Alexander's ribs and scared Lyn to death. Cain's up and about like he's never been hurt in his life. And of course, I'm right as rain, aside from having had to shoot to kill my own nakama. That part I'm not so pleased about. You're recovering quickly, same as always. This imprisonment is probably for the best. You'd have had to be restrained anyway if you wanted the flesh around your rib to set correctly. Last thing I need is you popping that loose.
"You know the funny thing? You're actually the worst off when it comes to whole rib recovery process. See, with us human beings with normal bones, we just let the rib heal itself over time. But you have metal bones, and those aren't alive. You're going to have to wait until Alexander masters reverse transmutation before that heals up properly. Until then, the pieces are just screwed together like a piece of machinery."
"Marines…"
Cassandra was unsurprised at the first word to come out of his mouth. "They aren't anywhere near us, Damien. They're probably scouring every inch of Brickwork as we speak. That doesn't matter to us, though. We're only a day or two out from the next island. Do you know the problem with that? Of course you don't. You haven't been able to do your fucking job. You know what a navigator does? He doesn't just sail the ship. That's what a helmsman is. Any dipshit who isn't deaf, blind, and weak can steer a ship. A navigator is supposed to keep track of the Log Pose, react to hazards, and making sure the journey goes smoothly.
"I will admit you are very good at your job. Storms come up, whirlpools, cyclones, windless days, it doesn't matter. You always move us forward. Unfortunately, you always spend the better part of our trips in the medical bay. You don't have time to do your goddamn job, even more so this trip. You will not breathe fresh air for I don't know how long. It'll definitely be at least a week after we hit land again. Do you know what season the next island is? Do you know what it is primarily known for? Do you even know its fucking name?
"Of course not. Raven does all the research. Raven does half of your job for you on top of everything else she does. While you were getting wasted and beating the snot out of Jay, Raven got the information you should know: Juhla, the spring island of festivities. Do you know how nice it would be to finally relax and have a good time? No, you're always enjoying yourself, fighting or drinking or whatever. But what about the rest of us? Lyn can't dance, Alexander can't play, and Morgan can't move. We can't be festive on this island of festivities, and it's all your fucking fault."
She took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself. "Damien, know that I have previously and still do consider my nakama. Considering you're pretty fucked up, that says more about my mental health than anything. You've done much more to impede the crew than help it. Even the two instances in which you've saved my friends wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been crucial in initiating those situations. You're a brute of a man who yearns for nothing but fighting strong people. You hate a certain organization beyond the bounds of reason. Whatever happened on that island, I'm sorry for it. From what Alexander tells us, you used to be a rational, trustworthy human being. I could certainly use that man with your body.
"Alas, if wishes were horses. You have the potential to be useful to me, Damien, but you can't continue to rampage around. You need to control yourself better. You call us all sorts of derogatory names, intimidate us, and physically assault us on occasion. At first, I simply accepted those as quirks you couldn't help. I have a friend who's very similar, and I learned to accept her for who she is. However, you need to rein it in. I'm not saying abstain from swearing or insulting us, though cutting down on the slurs would certainly be appreciated. I'm not saying you can't wander off for days at a time. I'm not saying you can't provoke people into fighting you. I'm just asking you to think of us as well. I know you can."
Jordan gave a snort of derision. "I'm serious," Cassandra said. "I've seen instances where you genuinely think of us as people. We always love it when you enjoy yourself with the rest of us. It feels amazing when the entire crew can join together and celebrate. You even call me Captain on a regular basis. That's far more than I would have expected of you."
"Yeah, except for the fact that even when 'Captain' doesn't have 'shitty' attached to it, it still sounds like he's calling you 'fuckwit.'"
"True, but it's still better than what he calls the others. And let's not forget the black glove that you wear. Even when you're hot enough to melt bullets, that gauntlet remains untouched. Somewhere deep down, so far down we'd need canaries and spelunking equipment to find it, you consider yourself one of us. It's just a matter of bringing that aspect of you closer to the surface.
"I could give you Captain's Orders to stop being a bastard, but Lyn has rather forcefully recommended that I not. Instead, you and I will have a deal. You'll be locked up until we face someone worth fighting. You know I know who you consider worthy. If you manage not to lose control again, I'll think about not imprisoning you again." He strained against his chains at the thought. "Remember that you will inevitably need medical attention after you fight. It wouldn't be hard to get you back in here. You're on thin ice, Damien, and you're too hot and too heavy to stay there. Prove to us that you can be more than our avatar of destruction. We want you back. Don't disappoint us."
She gestured at Jordan, who gave a toothy grin and grabbed a handful of chains. She yanked hard, pulling Damien's hands back down to the floor. The navigator gave surprisingly little resistance, returning to the position he had been in when he had woken. Jordan appeared slightly unnerved by his compliant behavior, but Cassandra wasn't fooled. Damien accepted his fate for now, but it was mostly because he hadn't sufficiently recovered from his injuries. As he returned to his usual strength, the level Cassandra wanted him at when she would unleash him, he would grow more and more recalcitrant.
When the two Moon Sisters were finished reattaching all of his restraints, Jordan left the room. Cassandra lingered for a moment in the doorway, staring at the bound pirate. "That bowl of water by your head will be slowly refilled over time. Try not to knock it aside, as nobody will be returning for a while. We'll give you time to think things over. A day alone for every one of us who your lack of restraint would have gotten killed."