When he heard the gunshot, Sinbad flew out of his room with his sword in hand. When he saw John lying on the floor, his blood pooling around him, Sinbad collapsed to his knees next to him. His sword fell from his hand, clanging against the wood.

Meg appeared in the doorway of her office, still holding her gun.

"What happened?" Sinbad choked out. John's blood spread towards him, seeping through the knees of his pants.

Meg didn't answer; she just stood there with an expression of indifference on her face. Sinbad rolled John onto his back. If he was dead, nothing would be able to save Meg from Sinbad. He pressed his fingers against John's neck and sagged with relief when he felt a pulse. He was unconscious, but alive. At least, for now.

"He's alive," Sinbad told Meg. Though, considering she just shot him, it was unlikely she cared one way or the other.

Sinbad lifted John into his arms, cradling his body against his own. Though John's blood was warm as it covered him, it turned Sinbad to ice.

"After he's been attended to, lock him in the brig," Meg ordered.

Sinbad ignored her as he carried John away from her and down below deck.

There was no one in the med bay, but it didn't matter; Sinbad preferred to be the one to take care of John. He didn't want to leave his life in someone else's hands. He laid John on the operating table and gathered up what he needed. He cut open John's shirt and cleaned as much of the blood off his back as he could. After taking some time to locate the bullet, Sinbad began to delicately extract it from John's shoulder blade. He tried to be as gentle as possible, even though John was unconscious and probably couldn't feel anything.

Once he had the bullet removed, he tossed it aside quickly and cleaned the wound. He wiped off the fresh blood and stitched the hole. Sinbad winced every time he had to pierce John's skin with the needle. After he finished sewing him up and bandaging the wound, he touched John's neck again to make sure he was still alive. When he felt his heartbeat beneath his fingers, he sank down on the chair beside the table.

Sinbad clasped his hands together and rested his head against them. He had never prayed before and he knew God had turned His back on him a long time ago, but he pleaded with Him anyway. Tears trailed down his cheeks as he begged God not to take John.

It was hopeless, though. God wasn't listening. And even if He was, He sure as hell wouldn't do Sinbad any favors.

He grabbed the nearest tool and threw it across the room with a mangled cry. He grabbed something else to throw and his fingers wrapped around the bullet. He looked down at it with watery eyes. It seemed impossible something so small could end someone's life. He shoved the bullet in his pocket. Whether John died or not, Sinbad was going to make Meg pay.

But, he didn't know what to do now. He had to get answers from Meg, but first he needed to find the kid. Sinbad would deal with Meg, but it was clear John was no longer safe on this ship and he will not let her anywhere near him without someone there to protect him. If anyone could be trusted to protect John as well as Sinbad, it'd be Jim.

Sinbad brushed John's hair off his face and kissed his forehead before picking him up again. He carried him down to the brig and carefully laid John down in a cell, as far from the cell door as possible. He hated to leave John like this, but there was only one key, so he knew John would be safe here until he could find Jim. Sinbad locked the cell and stuck the key in his boot before heading out to search the ship for Jim.

Sinbad learned quickly that something was wrong when he had searched almost the entire ship and didn't find Jim. The last place he looked was the kitchen, where he found Flynn and Jasmine. They were the only ones he'd come across who were still awake.

"Have you seen Jim?" Sinbad asked them.

"No," Flynn replied. "We were looking for him, too. He and Aladdin are missing."

Sinbad swore and punched the wall.

"Did you hear the gunshot?" Flynn asked.

Sinbad nodded. "Meg shot John."

Jasmine's hand flew to her mouth and she sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself.

"What the hell is going on on this blasted ship?" Sinbad demanded.

Flynn started pacing. "If Meg shot John, she had to have found out. Nothing else would have made her angry enough to do that."

"Found out what?" Sinbad asked.

Flynn ignored him. "Meg will come for you next, Jasmine. She won't care whether or not you know anything, but she will try to use you as leverage against Aladdin. No one else knows I know anything, so I have some time to figure something out and-"

"No," Sinbad cut in. "John doesn't have time, so one of you better start talking and tell me what's going on."

Flynn and Jasmine exchanged a look before Flynn replied, "We can't tell you."

Sinbad grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against the wall. In a flash, he had his knife out and pressed against Flynn's throat. "John almost died tonight- he still might- and obviously the two of you know why. So, tell me now or I swear to God I will kill you."

Fear flashed in Flynn's eyes. Sinbad looked down at his knife and the small trickle of blood running over the blade from the cut he hadn't realized he made.

Sinbad staggered backwards. "Flynn... I'm sorry."

Flynn just stood there staring at him, blood dripping down his neck. He had hurt his brother. They may not be as close as they once were, but Sinbad had never gone after him like that before.

He sheathed his knife and raked his hands through his hair in frustration. Sinbad could feel himself spiraling; he was losing control.