Chapter 25: Rescue at Last

Santana felt like all the air had been punched out of her lungs.

She could do nothing but gape at Jesse, she couldn't even open her mouth to speak, couldn't even turn around and look at Brittany. Jesse's triumphant face swam in front of her as she wrapped her arms around her mid-section and struggled to breathe. She needed to say something, but she didn't know how.

"You're lying," Quinn said finally. Her voice sounded far away, as though it were traveling through water.

"I'm not lying at all," Jesse said. "Santana knows I'm right, don't you?"

"Well then it's irrelevant," Puck said. "We made a deal with you, you have to tell us how we can get to that treasure. We need to find the Dalton."

"Wait, just hold on a second," Quinn said. "This…this can't be true. Santana's dad couldn't have killed Brittany's."

"Why would you say that?" Jesse asked.

"I…" Quinn trailed off.

Santana wanted to shout that it was impossible, that Jesse had to be lying. But the more she thought about it, the more plausible his story became. Her parents had often gone on raids and left Santana on the ship, where she stayed below the deck and played cards with the crewmembers that had remained behind. She hardly went outside to look at the ports they were visiting, and there was no way for her to tell one from the other. The crew of the Lima Heights went at night, they snuck in while everybody was sleeping—there had even been times when Santana hadn't known they were gone. She would go to sleep while they were docked and wake up in the middle of the ocean, and that was alright with her. If her parents had been seeking the Elixir of Life, well…she would have had no idea.

Santana did some quick math in her head, her heart racing faster every second. Brittany had been ten years old when her father had been killed. She lived with Tanaka until she was thirteen. Then she had hopped from place to place for five years before joining Karofsky's ship, where she was abused by him for at least five months. She was probably about nineteen, making her older than Santana by a matter of months. When Santana was ten, her parents had been hitting ports with their crew at a rate of about one per week. Had they stopped in Port Carmel long enough to participate in the skirmish that had driven Brittany from her home, long enough for Santana's dad to fire the shot that had taken Governor Pierce's life?

It was more than just possible; it was likely.

"It doesn't matter what Santana's dad did," Puck said. "It matters that she's here now, asking you for a favor. We don't even want the Elixir. The way I see it, we should be allies. The Dalton is trying to hurt both of us."

"I've never found much wisdom in dealing with pirates," Jesse said. "And since they've taken more from you than they have from me, I see no reason why I should team up with you. Until I believe that they actually know where the Elixir is, I have very little responsibility to help anyone." He walked around to the front of the desk and knelt down by Santana's chair. "Here kitty," he said, holding out his hand.

Santana looked down and saw Lord Tubbington walk up to Jesse and sniff his fingers cautiously. She chanced a glance back at Brittany and saw that her arms had gone slack. She was staring down at the ground, not moving a muscle. Santana felt blood pounding in her ears.

"We need to get out of here," she whispered.

"Santana…" Quinn began. Santana refused to look at her.

"He's not going to help us," she said, her voice cracking. "We need to go."

"A little awkward, isn't it, now that you know what your family did," Jesse said. "Kind of makes you wish you never came here in the first place, doesn't it? I ought to have you hanged for his crimes, since we never got to punish him. Unless, of course, he's still alive." He looked at Santana, and she refused to look back. "I didn't think so."

"You shut the hell up!" Quinn said. "Stop it, we have no reason to believe you."

"He knew his name," Puck said quietly. Santana turned to look at him, and he shrugged. "Jesse knew your dad's name."

"I did," Jesse said with a nod. "Because we kept him here in prison for twelve hours. We were going to hang him at dawn, but he escaped from right under our noses. Sound familiar?" He looked at Santana. "Face the truth, honey. I knew your father."

"Okay, that's enough," Quinn said. "Santana's right, we should go. Brittany. Brittany!"

Santana turned around once again to look at Brittany, but she was still sitting in the exact same position. Santana had to say something, anything, to assure her that somehow everything would be okay—but how could she? Everything was not okay, it hadn't been okay for a long time. There was nothing Santana could do to change that fact. She willed herself to stand, but she couldn't seem to detach herself from the chair.

There was a knock on the door. Jesse stopped absentmindedly stroking Lord Tubbington and got to his feet, crossing the office in several large steps. He pulled open the door to reveal Rory standing on the other side. "Sir," Rory said. "You have another visitor, he's with them." Rory motioned feebly towards Santana. Jesse turned around.

"Are you expecting anyone else?" he asked.

Quinn shook her head. "No."

Rory moved aside, and another man stepped into the doorway. Puck gasped. Quinn shrieked. Santana forgot all about her father as she sprang out of her chair and clenched her fists. "You," she hissed.

"Me." Captain Sebastian Smythe smirked as he glanced around the room at all of them. "So you are here. I heard rumors but I never thought I'd be lucky enough to get to see you again. What a lovely coincidence."

"Is he with you?" Jesse demanded. "Do you know this man?"

"We know him but he's not with us," Puck said. "This is the captain of the Dalton. He's the one we were telling you about."

Jesse rounded on Rory. "How could you let him in here?" he demanded.

"But sir," Rory said, "you were angry with me when I tried to stop them," he pointed at Brittany, "so I thought it would be okay if I let him in. He asked if a group had come in earlier and then said that he was supposed to meet them and I thought…"

"You never let anyone in here without an appointment, unless I know them personally!" Jesse shouted. "A breach of security like this is incredibly dangerous!"

"But how will I know when you know them personally?" Rory looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"I don't care!" Jesse said. "Just get him out of here."

"There's no need," Sebastian said calmly. "I'll see myself out. I just wanted to come here give my congratulations to the new Captain Santana. I would have introduced myself to you as well," he said to Jesse, "but it seems like my friends have already done that for me."

"Okay, you've said what you need to say," Jesse said. "Now leave, please."

"Oh, I'm happy to," Sebastian replied. "I've got an important place to be, after all."

"Where's Blaine?" Quinn demanded. "Is he hurt?"

"Wait, where do you have to be?" Jesse asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Where exactly is your crew going?"

Sebastian looked at Quinn. "Blaine is fine," he said. "We're keeping him very happy in the brig. We would give him back to you but, well…I think he'd be happier with us, to be honest. After all, when we've got what we're looking for, the Dalton is going to be the most fearsome ship in the seas. Everyone else will either stay on our good side or face our wrath, and I daresay it's too late for the McKinley to attempt the former."

"You son of a bitch," Puck said. "There's no way you're getting that Elixir."

"Hold on a moment," Jesse said. "No one will be getting anything, you don't even know where it is. I don't know which port you're working for, but you're under an agreement not to touch the Elixir. It belongs to Port Carmel, and if any other port takes it, we will consider it an act of war."

Sebastian shook his head. "You stupid man," he said. "We're not working for anyone, and we're certainly not worried about war. We're going to have the Elixir of Life. We'll be immortal."

Jesse's face turned red. "You'll never get it," he said.

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that," Sebastian replied. "We have the key and we're about to set sail. We have all the information we need. One of your men proved to be very easily persuaded."

Jesse's eyes went as wide as dinner plates. "You—my men—you know where to find the Elixir?" He turned to Rory. "I want you to gather every guard on duty, tell them this is an emergency!" he said. "Ready the ships, we're not letting the Dalton leave port."

Rory nodded quickly. "Which ship, sir?" he asked.

"The Vocal Adrenaline of course, " Jesse said. "Come on, hurry up, we're leaving in five minutes!"

"All of this is beside the point," Santana said, finally finding her voice. "We need to find Blaine, that's the only reason we're here. Are you going to give him back to us or are we going to have to take him by force?"

Sebastian just laughed. "There's no hope," he said. "For either of you. The Dalton is going to leave the moment I get back to it, and you'll never catch up. And as for the McKinley, well…I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't even a ship for you to go back to."

Santana's blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that we found you, anchored in your little cove." Sebastian licked his lips. "And my men are launching an attack on your ship as we speak."

Chaos broke out immediately. Santana did not remember making a conscious decision to move, all she remembered was running forwards, shoving Sebastian roughly as she ran through the doorway and into the foyer. She could hear Jesse's muffled shouting and was vaguely aware of Quinn-sized footsteps running behind her, but she didn't look back as she shoved the grand doors open and hurried outside.

Guards were beginning to assemble on the lawn, clearly tuned-in to the fact that there was trouble. A few of them called to Santana as she ran by, but she ignored them, her feet slapping the pavement as she ran down the road and back to the gate through which they had entered. Puck was calling to her but she ignored him too, leaving the fort and hurrying back through the town. People jumped out of her way as she passed, and she turned from the main rode to run along a side one, where there would be fewer crowds to hinder her progress. She spotted a blacksmith's shop and slowed to a halt, breathing heavily. For the first time, she turned around. No one was in sight. She just hoped her friends were getting back to the ship by a different route.

She snuck into the shop and peeked around, making sure nobody was there. Swords of all shapes and sizes were hanging by the door and Santana took the largest one, slipping it easily into her belt. There was a pistol on the side table and she grabbed it as well, for good measure. Then she left the shop as quietly as she'd came in, and started running again once she was back on the road.

Her lungs felt like they were going to burst by the time she got to the jungle, but she pressed onward, hurrying through the trees as fast as her legs would take her. Branches scratched at her cheeks and tore the arms of her shirt, but she ignored the pinching pain and kept up her pace. Her crew was in trouble. That was the only thought going through her mind. Nothing else seemed to matter.

She finally reached the edge of the water and looked out to where her ship was. She gasped. The Dalton was right alongside it, and the sounds of yelling and swords clanging were audible from where she stood. A canon fired, and part of the McKinley's hull splintered. Santana glanced at the rowboat. Quinn, Puck, and Brittany would need it, and if she went in it, she would be a sitting duck if anyone on the Dalton had a gun. Swimming would be faster and more discreet…without a second thought, Santana waded into the water and began to swim. She forced her exhaustion out of her mind and paddled forward, kicking her legs furiously. As she got closer and closer, pieces of driftwood began to float by her, and she could only hope that some of them had come from the Dalton.

She reached the ladder on the side of her ship, which was thankfully facing away from the Dalton, and she didn't waste a moment climbing up. As soon as she had grabbed the railing, strong hands gripped her arms and began to pull her the rest of the way up. It was Kurt. He was panting and there was a large gash on his forehead, but he looked at Santana with great relief.

"Thank God you're here," he said as she swung her leg over and pulled herself onto the deck. "It's been crazy—they swung over to our deck on ropes—there's people below trying to shoot the cannons, but I don't think—watch out!"

Santana barely had time to duck before a sword came swinging over her head. Kurt countered it with the end of his bayonet and Santana rolled out of the way just in time to see Kurt fire a shot into the Dalton boy's arm. He cried out and grabbed his arm, hurrying away towards the railing. "Nice," Santana gasped.

"I'm a lousy shot, didn't even kill him," Kurt said, shaking his head.

"Is anybody hurt?"

"Not that I know of. Come on!" He ran towards the quarter deck and Santana unsheathed her sword and followed him. Sam was engaged in a swordfight up there, and she pulled out her pistol before remembering that her little swim had completely soaked the powder. She hurled the weapon at the Dalton crewmember instead, barely missing Sam's head in the process. It hit the Navy man smack on the forehead and caused him to stagger backwards, giving Sam enough time to gain the upper hand. Sam pressed his blade to the man's throat and turned.

"I've—I never killed anyone before," he said in a shaky voice, looking at Santana.

"There's a first time for everything," she said. "Do it!"

"I don't know…"

"If you want to be a pirate, do it now," she said, whirling around as more men stormed the ship. She swung her sword wildly, forcing them back. "Sam!" she cried out as a blade slid along the skin of her forearm. "Please!"

She heard a scream, followed by the unique sound of a sword entering flesh. She turned around to see Sam with his arm outstretched, his face white and his hand shaking as he held the end of his sword firmly in the man's chest. "I did it," he breathed.

The man behind Santana took another swing at her and Santana turned and kicked him down the stairs. "Good job," she gasped, clapping Sam on the back. "Good."

She went back down to the quarter deck, where Artie had impaled a man with one of his peg legs. "I'm stuck!" he cried out, and Santana hurried over to him. Artie shook his leg fiercely, but it was lodged deep within the corpse. "I think it's stuck on his rib…"

"It's okay," she said. "I got you." She put his hands under his armpits and pulled as hard as she could. "Holy shit, it's really stuck."

"Heads up!" Artie shouted, and a moment later, a cannonball hit the deck about a foot away from them. Santana looked at it curiously and then looked up. Tina was in the crow's nest, holding another cannonball in her hand and surveying the deck carefully.

"Watch where you drop those!" Santana yelled.

"Sorry!" Tina shouted back. She dropped the second cannonball, and this time it hit a Dalton man smack on the head. He fell to the deck immediately; whether he was unconscious or dead, Santana wasn't sure. One thing was certain; he would no longer be joining the fray. One more down…

"Santana!" a voice cried out. Santana turned around to see Quinn scrambling over the railing. "Where is Rachel?" she gasped.

"Haven't seen her," Santana said. "Help me with Artie, please. He's stuck."

Quinn grabbed Artie's other arm and together they heaved until he came free. "Thank you," he gasped, balancing precariously on his pegs as he scanned the deck. "Have you seen my sword?"

"Here," Quinn said, grabbing a sword off of a nearby box and thrusting it into his hands. "I've gotta find Rachel…"

"Wait," Santana said as Quinn began to move towards the hatch. "Where is Puck?"

"Tying the boat to the ladder," Quinn said as she began to climb down. "We may need it, can never be too careful." She disappeared below the deck and Santana had no time to ask about Brittany. Another man came up behind her and she turned quickly to block the swing of his sword.

She dueled with the Dalton bou for several long minutes, until the tip of his sword penetrated just above her belt. She cried out and swung her arm violently, inadvertently knocking the weapon out of his hands. Ignoring the pain by her hip, she forced her opponent to the ground. Just as she was about to deliver the final blow, she heard Puck screaming her name.

"Santana!" Santana looked up to see him standing on the railing closest to the Dalton, holding one of the ropes that the men had been using to swing themselves across. "Come on!" he yelled.

"What are you doing?" she called back.

"Blaine!"

Santana left the man on the deck and shoved her sword back into its sheath. She climbed up the railing quickly and wrapped her arms around Puck's neck. "Alright," she said. "Let's do this."

"You're bleeding all over," he said breathlessly.

"I'm fine, go!"

Puck kicked off from the railing and they swung across, onto the deck of the Dalton. Most of their men were on the McKinley's deck, and the two of them were able to run over to the hatch and duck inside without being assaulted. "I don't know how to get to the brig…" Puck muttered. "This ship looks different than ours."

"Well standing here won't do anything," Santana snapped, feeling her pain more acutely now that she was no longer in the heat of battle. "Come on, and be quiet. There's gotta be more men down here manning the cannons."

They crept quickly along the hallway, down one corridor and then another. Santana was beginning to get nervous. If too many men found them here, they were done for. They could easily be outnumbered.

"Where did you go after I ran off?" she whispered.

"We followed you," Puck replied. "Then Rory showed us a faster way out of the fort. You still beat us, though, because you were so far ahead."

"What about Brittany?"

Puck looked at her apologetically. "She followed us out of the house," he said. "But then all these guards started assembling, and Quinn and I followed Rory, and she got separated from us."

"Oh." Santana's throat went dry.

"I wouldn't worry about her," Puck said. "She knows the layout of the town."

They passed by cabins and bunks, finally reaching the point where they'd started. "Blaine," Santana called out quietly. "Blaine, where are you?"

"Shh," Puck said. "Let's try to go down further."

They found another ladder and went into a place that appeared to be the cargo hold. "Blaine!" she called out a little louder. "Can you hear me?"

There was a sound of a sword being unsheathed, and Santana turned around just in time to see a Navy man step out from behind a box and take a swing at her. Puck jumped in front with his own sword and blocked the blow, and Santana lifted her leg to kick him hard in the stomach. He stumbled back and hit his head on a box, falling unconscious to the ground.

"Good job," Puck said. "Now can you please stop yelling? You're only attracting attention."

"Sorry," Santana said, but as she spoke she heard a faint sound. "Wait, quiet."

She strained her ears as she heard the faint sound of talking. At first, it sounded like gibberish, but then she was able to make out her name. "Santana," the voice called out quietly. "Santana, is that you?"

"Blaine!" Santana cried out. She followed the sound of the voice through the cargo hold, Puck following close on her heels.

"Santana!" The voice grew louder and more confident as Santana got closer, and soon she turned a corner and found herself in a room lined with cells.

"Blaine!" she shouted wildly.

"Santana!" She followed the sound to the corner of the room and gasped. Leaning against the bars in the corner cell, looking exhausted but very much alive, was Blaine. His eyes lit up as Santana approached and he reached for her, sticking his fingers through the gap in the bars. Santana knelt down and grasped them tightly in her hand, looking at Blaine in relief.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Blaine said. "I'm okay now, you found me." He looked up at Puck and then back at Santana, and gave a tired smile. "You finally found me."