There were some nightmares that were universal to fathers, the world over.

Nothing could prepare Percy Blakeney for the ice-cold shock of seeing his daughter, kneeling on the ground. Nor the agonised and distant look in her eyes as she clenched her side, blood spilling between her delicate fingers.

He closed the distance between them in a few short strides.

Percy scooped her up and ran, cradling her in his arms, uncaring if any of the others followed.

They did follow, though. They were right on his heels, their hurried murmurs barely registering because he could not think of anything in that moment except getting his daughter to safety.

As he approached the DayDream, the gangplank lowered for him and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the crew were prepared and waiting. The sooner they were back on the water again, the better.

He called out to set sail as he carried her across the deck. His footsteps were hurried, and Percy didn't waste a single second in carrying her into one of the rooms below, where he laid her down on the bed waiting there.

Cosette had never been carried on to the Daydream before. Normally she would run up the gangplank with such excitement and enthusiasm to be aboard the majestic vessel. It was odd to be escorting her on, her lying so still and limp in his arms as if the life was fading from her with every passing moment.

Percy was terrified.

It only increased tenfold as he hastily reached for the bottom of the blood-soaked shirt and waistcoat, peeling them back to reveal the wound that was causing her to suffer. It was clear on the side her waist, flaming red and irritated as blood pumped out of what seemed to be a clear gun wound.

The impropriety of the moment wasn't lost, but his terror muted such trivial concerns. How could he have missed this? He cursed silently, blanching at the realisation his daughter had been shot… she had been shot saving him…

Cosette whimpered sharply in response and Percy gripped her hand tightly. He wasn't going anywhere.

He did not move, even as Andrew hurried into the room beside him and pushed past him to get a look at her. His voice was far stronger than Percy's would have been had he attempted to speak at that moment, telling Tony and Will to fetch water and towels.

"How is she?" Percy asked urgently as Andrew checked her pulse and felt her forehead.

It seemed like an eternity to wait while Andrew hurriedly inspected her but he finally replied, "The ball seems to have passed cleanly through her side. She is losing too much blood, but as long as we patch it up quickly she should be fine. It will require stitches though, and it will need to be monitored for corruption."

"It is probably for the best then, that she is not awake to witness this," Armaund soothed, watching closely from the other side of the bed.

His words were vaguely reassuring, enough so to give Percy only the slightest bit of relief as he began his vigil next to Cosette, brushing the hair from her face and examining her himself.

His heart was pounding as he ran his hand along her cheek. Her face was horrifyingly pale but her breathing was remarkably steady, even if a little shallow. It was enough to send relief flooding through him. Expelling a long breath, he leant over her and pressed his forehead to hers.

The room stayed quiet while he sat there, eyes clenched shut as he struggled to even out his heartbeat. Her face felt too warm, and he could feel her breaths against his hand. He silently counted each one in his head. He was barely aware of the others in the room, all standing quietly as he continued to rub her cheek with his thumb.

He barely noticed as Tony re-appeared, Will in tow, both carrying cloths, water and a rather sharp looking needle and thread. Hastings had disappeared up on deck to oversee their escape, leaving the four others to watch over their precious cargo.

It was going to be a long night.


Terror flooded her being. She was unaware of anything else as the world fell around her, leaving her trembling and moaning in its wake.

"Cosette," a voice came, urgently, in her ear. "Cosette, wake up, you're dreaming, wake up."

Hands shook her shoulders.

Her eyes flew open.

With a startled scream she found herself upright, clutching her side as agony tore through her. Her chest rose and fell wildly, failing to fill her lungs with any air. Her skin burned, her shirt clinging to her back with sweat.

She looked around at the bedsheets tangled around her legs when finally the haze parted enough for her to see the face in front of her.

"What… Where… Will?" she demanded in surprise.

There, in front of her, Will sat, still wearing the same dirt-stained suit that he had been wearing earlier, despite it being slightly more crumpled, and his brown hair lay tangled together, almost as if he hadn't changed and had slept in his clothes. His hands were placed upon her shoulders, warming her cold skin through the material of her shirt.

"Easy now… It was all a dream," he whispered, his voice calm and almost ordinary as if her waking up to find him sitting on her bed was normal. "You were crying out though, and thrashing about. Any more and I feared you'd ruin my father's beautiful stitches."

Cosette winced at the reminder, her hand clutching her side feebly as the situation finally caught up with her. Chauvelin, the shot, the riding for their lives and then… nothing. Had she fainted?

"How long have I been asleep?" she whispered. It was clear someone had tended to her wounds in her sleep. The stitches were neat but grotesque as her eyes clapped upon them beneath the covers.

"Six hours or so. Everyone else is nearby," Will sighed, but not without concern etched into his features. "What was the dream about?"

She shuddered slightly. "Nothing."

"Cosette," he pleaded. "Don't make me fetch your father."

"No, there's no need. I just… Are we really sailing home?"

"Yes. It's all over. We're all safe."

She nodded uncertainly as a wave of nausea swept over her, her side throbbing and burning beneath her shirt.

He touched her hair gently, pushing a fallen strand behind her ear. She felt instantly compelled to wrap her arms around him and draw him close. She was in such shock that she hardly had the urge to send him away. She watched him as he smiled at her warmly.

"Whatever your dream was about… whatever you're feeling… Let it all go," he smiled.

When she took a shuddering breath, her lungs filled with the scent of sea salt and Will. As it was his skin was slightly damp and icy, she wondered if he had been out walking the decks, the way he did the corridors at Blakeney hall. She shivered slightly, which caused him to hold her tighter against him, rubbing soothing circles on her back as her tears re-appeared.

He held her, rocking her gently, as she cried and cried. Relief, exhaustion, pain and disbelief swirled in a nauseating cocktail.

She did not know how long she sat there, weeping. However long it was, Will did not seem to mind. He waited patiently, unflinching as he waited for her to quiet.

"You don't have to tell me that I am being mad ... I just, swear it felt so real. Even now, I think I'm going to wake up and be back there… in that cell."

"I don't think you are mad but of course, I do feel obligated to remind you that nightmares are meant to be scary," Will explained."They are based on our thoughts and fears, and you know I'd never let any harm come to you anyway. I promised."

"I know. You made that promise when you were seven I think… do you remember? In the grand oak at Blakeney hall, when one day we were climbing and I nearly fell out of the tree and you caught my wrist. You promised you'd always protect me," Cosette breathed, watching his face as a smile crept onto his lips.

"I remember. Although, I would state that you leaping in front of pistols doesn't make that job easy."

"I won't apologise when it was to save someone I love, Will," Cosette replied sharply, but not without a smile. She knew he knew that for himself, but his concern was touching, to say the least.

"I wouldn't ask you to when I would also do the same. So rest easy." Will smirked and brought her hand to his lips. Without a pause, he kissed her fingers. She felt herself shiver in surprise, at his action. "I should find your father and tell him you're awake."

"No. Stay with me, please," she echoed suddenly.

Will raised an eyebrow at her. "Cosette Blakeney is afraid? well then, it must have been one very convincing dream."

She shook her head. "Please don't tease me so, Will."

"Never."

"Can you just hold me like you did when we were little?"

It was an innocent enough request with her wide, pleading eyes locked on him. Still, the embrace of two children was not the same thing as two eligible adults lying in bed together.

Will sighed softly but ignored the warning that echoed in his head. This was not any ordinary circumstance, and his sheer relief at even seeing her conscious was enough to drown it out as he opened leant back against the pillows, readjusting their embrace.

He would merely find the others shortly. A few minutes wouldn't hurt.

Cosette immediately accepted, nestling close with a small wince at the stab of pain she felt flare in her side as she moved. Still, the comfort of his embrace was enough to dull it in a moment.

"I'll be just here. Rest easy," Will soothed, relieved as Cosette nodded weakly. He was even more relieved as she slowly lay against him and let her eyes droop shut, her arm resting on his chest.


Playing invalid had never been one of Cosette's strengths. Even as a child she had refused to stay abed when struck down in sickness.

As a five-year-old, she had once escaped her room after being told she had contracted a mild fever. The weather had been far too fine for her to consider spending the day in bed, not when she had had her heart set on sitting amongst the freshly blooming flowers outside. Of course, this had not gone down well when her parents discovered her some hours later, blatantly ignoring their wishes and laying in the grass.

It was with a thorough scolding that she was escorted back to bed. If her parents had then taken turns to act as jailor for the following days, well then that was just demned unfortunate for her. All these years later and it seemed as if nothing had changed since then.

From the moment Percy Blakeney had hurtled into the cabin, having heard of his daughter's return to consciousness, Cosette had been subject to her father's concerned attention. It would have been touching were it not for the fact Cosette was ready to throw herself overboard from boredom. She may have only been abed for the mere half a day or so they had been at sea, but she was willing to swim the remaining narrow distance if it released her from this confinement.

Thankfully there were a mere handful of hours left till they docked. It would have been even sooner had the winds not been blowing against them on their return journey, or the sea so choppy.

Even now, a mere hour or so from Dover, the urge to slip her feet from underneath the covers and attempt to stand was strong. She glanced across at her father, debating whether or not it was worth the risk. Hastily she decided it wasn't, and simply leant back against the pillows instead.

Clearly, he'd noticed her uncertain glance as she'd fidgeted. "Are you in any pain? Should I fetch another opiate?"

Cosette shook her head. "No, the one you gave me when I was asleep was enough. I'm merely sluggish. I feel as if I've been trampled by a carriage, four horses and a couple of footmen."

It was true. The concoction she had been given earlier had numbed most of the pain, even if her side still burned in reminder of her narrow escape from death. It had also made her somewhat drowsy, which was probably most of the reason why she had yet to protest properly against her confinement. She hardly had the strength to rise, let alone start what she knew would be a long and arduous argument.

"I am glad to hear it." With a soft sigh, she watched as her father finally settled beside her. Pausing long enough to take her hand and summon up the courage to express what truly was on his mind. From the moment he had entered the room Cosette knew he had been swallowing down his true feelings. "At least perhaps now you may actually follow one of my orders and stay in bed until we dock. From there we can arrange to travel home where you can rest properly."

Cosette couldn't fail to miss the fury seeping through her father's restrained tone. "Is that your plan? To sedate me into compliance?"

"If I must, after all, you have shown no regard for my authority or orders so far since we reunited."

And there it was: the truth of the matter. Her father was angry. It didn't take a genius to know why.

"Papa," Cosette groaned, restraining from rolling her eyes. "You can not honestly say you wish we had not rescued you from the executioner's block? I for one regret no part of my actions considering it meant I got you back alive, and in one piece."

"Whilst I am grateful," Percy corrected sharply, "that does not excuse your actions for a single moment. Not when I explicitly ordered you all to leave for England."

"You were in prison," Cosette scoffed indignantly. "Your order to leave you behind was horse-shit."

Her father braced his hands on either side of Cosette's legs and frowned in her face. He didn't flinch at her choice of swear word as he growled, "I am your Father. You don't get to disregard orders you don't like."

Cosette sat up this time, swearing at the pain lingering in her body. Yet, she had never been one to take an argument lying down - in this case literally. "Don't pull rank because you're mad-"

"You and your damned theatrics nearly got you killed." And even as Percy spat the words there was panic, again, in his eyes. His voice. "I'm not mad. I'm furious with you, and every traitorous gentleman out there who assisted you, although I am astounded that after all these years I am still surprised by their disobedience."

"So you're allowed to be mad about our choice to protect you, and yet all these years you prevented our being furious with you for your self-sacrificing idiocy?"

Percy just stared at her. Cosette stared right back.

"You could have died," was all he said, his voice raw.

"So could you."

Another beat of silence and in its wake, the anger shifted.

Her father said quietly, "Even after all these years I can't stomach it."

Seeing her hurt. Any of the League hurt. "We're alive, Papa. Can't you accept this moment for the victory that it is? Within a few hours, this will be nothing but a bad memory we can let fade into time."

"One day, you'll understand what it feels like to be responsible for another person's life - for ensuring the safety and well being of someone you care dearly for. Then, and only then, will you understand my pain."

"I believe I understand more than you think… This belongs to you, after all." Cosette paused as she reached for the gold band that still sat upon her right hand, glistening in the faint light of the candle. She removed it easily and placed it back in the palm of her father's hand. "I meant to give it back to you as soon as we left the palace, but … here. It belongs with the real Pimpernel."

Her father's brows rose as she dropped it into his waiting palm. "You're giving it back."

"Of course. Why? Is it some kind of test?"

"It wasn't. I merely thought you'd be rather attached to it," Percy soothed. "I… I felt you needed something to hold on to. To believe you could get out of Paris."

"Instead, it led me to you." And that, at the end of the day, was more important than anything else that had happened back on land. Both their sins and grievances were out of their desperate need to protect one another, to shelter those they loved most. In a way, Cosette finally understood what her mother had always meant when she'd called her, her father's daughter. Blakeney blood ran in their veins in a way that meant they would often butt heads, especially over matters concerning their family. Still, it was a burden Cosette was grateful to have been relieved of for now. "And I will admit it did feel rather powerful, intoxicating even to wear on my finger."

"You're welcome."

"Well, you're welcome to have it back. It was far too heavy for me." Cosette paused, watching as her father slipped the ring back onto his finger. It immediately looked better back with its true owner. "I don't suppose I can now count as an official member of the league?"

Percy rolled his eyes in a most ungentlemanly fashion. "Really? After everything that has just happened, and you ask to be a part of the league?"

"Maybe?" Cosette smiled softly, eyes shining with amusement. "I did save your life, after all. I also organised an escape from right under Napoleon's nose, and managed to survive in Paris all by myself-"

"Alright, alright," Percy conceded with a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We'll discuss the matter more when we're home."

"And you have Mother to fight your corner?"

Percy frowned, but he didn't argue. They both knew it was true, even if Cosette had a suspicion she knew where her mother's opinion lay.

"Your mother is going to gut me like a fish when she hears about all this."

Despite everything, Cosette couldn't help but laugh at the thought. It seemed so ridiculously mundane that it felt unreal in the cabin.

"It's not funny," her father protested, but not without a smirk of his own. "It's my hide she'll have, madame. You can laugh all you want but you'll be doted upon, whilst I'm left to fear for my life."

"Papa," she wheezed. "Mama will be too relieved to have us both home to even consider flogging us."

"Well, let's hope you are right and I am not."

Then the door banged open.

"You are awake, thank God."

Hastings had always been one for dramatics, and today appeared to be no exception as he leapt into the room and all but threw himself on to the bed for a desperate handhold. He wasn't the only keen member of the gang aboard the ship, however. The fact the others all trailed in behind him was a testament to that fact, even if they seemed far less eager to physically assault her.

"Gently," her father warned, looking like an overprotective tiger as he narrowed his eyes at Hastings. "She's still weak."

Cosette gasped. Weak was never a word she ever wanted to be associated with herself, and the sharp slap to her father's side said as much. "I was shot but I'm alive. Alright? As if you all haven't had your fair share of wounds and scars."

"She's got you there," Tony teased, making his own way over to press a kiss of relief to her hand. "We're just glad you're alright."

"And now we've seen that for ourselves," Andrew simply said, suspiciously loitering by the doorway with a surprisingly excited Will, "we can go."

Cosette's mouth popped open, but Armaund explained with a broad, feline smile, "He's irritable this morning."

"Why?" she asked, watching Armaund pat Andrew on the shoulder and flash him a smile that was all too self-satisfied to be comforting in any manner.

"Because," Andrew answered for her, "I've been stuck on deck with Will and Tony, and they took me for all I was worth in cards."

"Sore loser?" she teased, gripping his hand as he finally drifted closer. His calluses scraped against her own—the only reminder of the trained warrior beneath the clothes and veneer.

"I am when my supposed brothers in arm tag-team me," he grumbled, pressing one last kiss to her forehead. "We came to tell you we dock shortly."

"Good," Percy sighed, looking all together ready to get off the ship and back on English soil. "I am more than ready to return to my comfortable bed and leave this dreadful episode behind us. I'm sure my wife will be relieved to have us home too."

"Suzanne, I think will feel similarly."

Marguerite. Suzanne.

Cosette, and by the looks of it Will, had almost forgotten their mothers in all the chaos.

God.

She missed her fiercely. The moment she finally laid eyes on her she knew this whole adventure would truly be over. For that and that alone Cosette wished the wind to fill their sails and speed them onward with as much haste as it could manage.

"Until then, gentlemen," Armaund continued, finally stealing everyone's attention back to himself as he rose from the end of the bed. His gaze was affectionate as he surveyed his brother-in-law and niece at the epicentre of this emotional reunion. "I feel we should leave our new leader to her rest. It's been a taxing few weeks, and I'm sure she could do with some more sleep before we dock."

There was little disagreement from the others, even if Cosette looked prepared to argue on her own behalf. For the remaining few hours, she could concede to sleep if it meant it would go quicker and she would feel less like she was floating in tar. Damn opiates.

Still, she managed a smile as she watched the others file out with a parting kiss or well wish.

She'd never been so happy in her entire life.

Cosette Blakeney was on her way home.