A/N: I just wanted to take a moment to say that I've been around fandom for some time now (waves cane about) and the people who make up the Black Sails fandom, and especially this little rowboat of a ship; you're all absolutely lovely! You leave the kindest, warmest comments and I'm so happy to have found this little group! You're all wonderful and I'm so, so, SO happy you're here!
I hope you enjoy the latest chapter!
Abigail stared up the at ceiling of the shelter. The wood grain ran in straight lines above her head and she counted each knot that interrupted the lines.
Seven knots, in total.
She had no regrets about what she'd said the night before to Billy. She truly didn't. She'd meant every word. She was tired of being thrown hither and thither by fate and the sea and bloody men, be they pirates or her own family. She wanted her desires to come first for a change.
However, despite her certainty, Abigail slept restlessly. Strange dreams that involved caves of gold and warm kisses plagued her until she finally gave up on a proper deep sleep and had taken up glaring at the ceiling. Eventually, she gave that up too, and sat up.
It was still very early morning; a slim line of orange ran along the edge of the horizon. Billy sat where she'd left him the night before and Mr Murphy dozed on the other side of the fire; his snores were loud and Abigail stifled a laugh.
As silently as she could, she emerged from the shelter and caught Billy's eyes.
He nodded. "All right?"
"Of course," she said, as she pushed aside her unsettling dreams and the phantom feel of his mouth moving over hers. "You?"
"Yeah," he said glancing at a still-snoring Murphy. "Don't sleep much as a rule anyways."
"I imagine you're always on the alert on a ship," she said as she made her way to his side where he'd sliced open a coconut. She took it with a smile and started to eat.
"Pretty alert, yeah," he said chuckling. "Thing is, even here I'm listening out for the bells for the shift change and even though they aren't there, I'm awake anyway. Don't have to be a military man for the routines to sink in."
She smiled around a mouthful of coconut and nodded. "I still wake up listening out for the headmistress' call in the morning."
"She called for you?" he asked.
Abigail set her coconut down and sat up straight. Then she briskly clapped her hands and said in her crispest voice, enunciating every word with a singular purpose, "Awaken, young ladies. It is another day on our heavenly Father's green earth and we must not waste a single moment being idle for that is how the Devil will creep in to sully your souls. Wash your hands and faces and dress smartly."
She clapped briskly again and then looked at Billy; who stared at her with his eyes wide and his mouth slightly parted.
"Fucking hell," he said after a moment. "I think I prefer the bells."
"So do I," she said taking up her coconut. "She wasn't a bad sort, our headmistress, simply stuck in her ways." She paused, her fingers coated in coconut as she looked around the empty beach at the rising sun. "She'd despair at seeing me now, I'd imagine. If she even recognized me, that is."
"Not quite where you intended to end up, is it?" he asked following her gaze to the sea.
"Not entirely," she admitted smiling a little.
"It's like that," he said.
"What is?" she replied.
"The sea," he said nodding towards it. "Sometimes it just…claims a person. It claimed me. I had no plans to ever go to sea. None. In fact, I was raised to the complete opposite, and yet…" He shrugged. "Here I am."
"Here you are," she said softly. "I think I may take your meaning. About the sea."
He turned his head and met her eyes and oh, sweet heavens, this man had no right to have eyes quite that shade of blue.
"Ah," he said clearing his throat and looking away. "Figured I'd get the water this morning and uh, make sure things are tidy around there."
"Oh, yes," she said taking his meaning instantly. Murphy seemed to be a decent enough fellow, but it would probably be best if he didn't know about the gold.
"I'll do that now," he said as he got to his feet. He paused and then handed her the rapier.
She took it from him clumsily and looked at him.
"Just in case," he murmured.
"I think I'm more inclined to do damage to myself than to him," she replied.
"It'll still make him think twice," he said. "Be back soon."
He brushed past her and Abigail stared after him for a moment and hefted the rapier in her hand. Then she glanced at Murphy who watched her with one eye open before he grinned; clearly the man had been awake the entire time.
"Not going to hurt you, mermaid," he said sitting up. "Not in my nature, really. 'Sides, everyone knows that crossing Billy Bones is a death knell."
She frowned and set the rapier down. "Is it?"
"Christ, yes," Murphy said stretching and making his spine crack. "It may have been Silver that killed Dufresne, but Billy was the one who got to Throckmorton first. And the others. Not that you can blame him. Someone had to lead them."
Abigail's head swam. "Lead who?"
"The Brotherhood, oh, hand me a coconut, will you?" he asked nodding at the pile beside her.
"The Brotherhood?" she repeated as she handed him the fruit.
"Someone's got to keep the English on their toes," Murphy said cracking the coconut open with a sharp stone. "Billy's leading most of them. Started all the stories." He winked at her. "They're all shaking in their beds 'cause of him, you know? Our Billy's the stuff of nightmares."
Abigail stared at Murphy and his words sank into her mind.
She'd known this, of course. A man didn't get scars like Billy's without spilling blood. She'd seen him on the warship, she'd seen Flint and Vane and Ned Low and she knew what pirates were. But something clenched in her chest and she swallowed hard to try to clear it.
He had his reasons.
"Yeah, we all do," Murphy said and Abigail startled. She hadn't realized she'd said anything aloud. "But at the end of the day, we still take up the sword and draw blood." The smile he gave her was sad and quite possibly tinged with madness. "We're damned, mermaid. No quarter for any of us when we leave this world."
Abigail stared at him, horror mixed with comprehension swirled in her mind. "I'm sorry," she said, her brow furrowed, as she knew her words were more than useless.
"Eh, well, we pick our paths, don't we?" Murphy said cheerfully. "Might've ended up on a farm back in Ireland and would've hated every minute of it." He leaned towards her and winked. "Not nearly enough sunshine and rum in Ireland."
She tried to smile and got to her feet. "If you'll excuse me, I need to…" She gestured to the woods.
Murphy nodded deeply. "Of course, mermaid. See to your island."
She managed an actual smile that time and headed off down the beach towards the well. Murphy's words struck a chord deep within her and she honestly didn't know how to feel.
Warm sand shifted under her feet as she walked and she congratulated herself on how she'd spoken to Billy the night before. He clearly would never be able to put her first and she'd inevitably be hurt in the end. She lifted her chin and walked on, wondering if she'd ever manage to convince the ache in her stomach of how right she was?
In fact, Murphy's words should have only enforced what she knew to be correct. And yet…
I still want to learn the shape of his hands and the precise colour of his eyes, she thought.
With a silent groan, she forced the foolish thoughts from her head, just in time for him to appear at the treeline as she reached it and gave her a quick nod.
"I've, uh, put our friend in that cave. Figure it's better that Murphy doesn't see it," he said.
"I'd wondered," she said. "Are we truly going to send him back out there? All on his own? In a coracle?"
"Well, I did say it would take someone mad or drunk to attempt the reef," he replied.
"And Mr Murphy does appear to be both," she said glancing behind her at the man who was cracking open another coconut.
"Yeah," Billy said rubbing the back of his neck. "Why are you…? Did you need something? Did he do something?"
Abigail looked at him in surprise and something inside her went oh. His face was filled with concern. Concern for her. It'd been so long since anyone had been concerned for her sake and her sake alone.
Is this why I'm having such a hard time letting go of this? she thought. Am I truly this desperate for connection that I'd willingly align myself with a man who has done the things he's done?
"Who is Mr Dufrense?" she asked startling herself
Billy froze and Abigail was astonished to see his eyes fill with fear.
"Please don't ask me about that, Abigail," he said, his voice low and hoarse.
"Why not?" she asked. "I'm not blind to the things that you've done, Billy."
"Yes, but there's having knowledge," he said chuckling and rubbing his face. "And then there's knowing."
"It was so very bad, then?" she asked, suddenly remembering the dark hole in Lady Hamilton's forehead and her so very blank eyes.
"It was worse," he said flatly. "And it was only the beginning. I don't want you…" He broke off and shook his head. "No, you'll find out anyhow, better it come from me than someone who wasn't actually there. We confronted those on the island who had taken English pardons and Silver did his level best to impart to them how wrong that decision was. A former crewmate took exception. Silver killed him."
Abigail frowned. "I see. However, that doesn't sound as bad-"
"He killed him by stomping repeatedly on his head with his iron leg," Billy said.
Something caught in Abigail's throat at his words. No. Not just at his words, at the way he looked at her. His voice was calm, but his eyes darted all over her face. An image of what must have occurred in that inn flashed behind her eyes and, not wanting to lie, it turned her stomach.
"Oh," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
"You were right last night," he said. "I have things to finish and whatever we are or could be or whatever, it has no place in that future. You have no place in my future. And I'll not lie, I'm fucking sorry for that. You…" He winced. "In any case, you were right, but you were also wrong." He stepped in close. "It isbecause of what I am that means there's no future here, Abigail. I'm a murderer and sooner or later I'll do something that you wouldn't be able to justify to your own morals. And I'll be god damned if I have to be there to see that moment."
His brow furrowed and her eyes burned with unshed tears as he lifted his hand to her face. The pad of his fingers touched her cheek so lightly it felt like the wings of a butterfly and then his hand was gone, clenched tight at his side.
"I'll see you off this island," he said. "And I'll see you safe. I'll make sure that you stay the sort of woman that your headmistress would recognize of and I…"
He broke off again and with one last wincing look, he walked away. Abigail let out a breath and stumbled a little. She closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her stomach and mouth. She breathed in and out and let the sounds of the island wash over her as she steadied herself.
Then, seeing no other option, she opened her eyes and headed back to the beach.
She rather expected Billy to revert back to how he'd been a few days ago, taciturn and grumpy. However, she found that he seemed to be…lighter somehow. As though his telling her of the lengths he'd gone to, the violence he was more than capable of using, had finally ensured that she'd no longer look to him as a man of any kind of worth. He seemed completely at ease as he and Murphy argued good-naturedly about constructing a raft. His smiles were easy and he laughed and Abigail…
Abigail felt lost.
Everything inside her knew he was right. That she was right. There was no future with him. It would only lead to tears and heartache and a violent end for at least one of them.
But, she was a product of her upbringing, so none of this reflected on her face and she even managed to laugh at several of Murphy's tales as she watched them pull various branches together.
"We'll need a flat bottom to clear the reef," Billy said as he eyed the treeline.
"You going to fell the lot of them?" Murphy asked squinting at him. "I'll make it back to Nassau, Bones. My pride's at stake here." He glanced at Abigail and Billy when they looked at him. "And you need rescuing, of course."
Billy snorted. "It's a fucking miracle you made it here in the first place. I like having a back-up plan."
"Fair point," Murphy said. "But I'm hurt you think so little of my abilities."
"It's not your abilities, Murphy," he said. "It's your reliance on an oversized basket as a ship."
"Do I need to make a bet with you, too?" Murphy asked. "'Cause I feckin' will, Bones."
Abigail giggled and looked away, trying to hide her mirth, but caught Murphy's grin and wink before she did. She glanced at Billy who rolled his eyes at her. After awhile, she left the men to their own devices and decided to spend the rest of the day fishing.
She grabbed her net and merely held it up when Billy looked over at her. He gave her a nod and a smile that set butterflies loose in her stomach and she looked away.
Hardly seems fair, she thought as she walked towards the water's edge. He's relaxed and I'm an utter mess. Why can't he be a mess?
She sighed and took a moment to arrange her skirts so that they didn't trail quite so much in the water, and then she waded in.
The sun beat down on her head as she stared into the shallows and she soon fell into something like a doze as the heat and the lull of the waves calmed her. The motion of a fish around her ankles woke her and she focussed. Soon enough, she caught it and tossed it towards the shore. She shielded her eyes and looked at the two men who were wrangling a smaller tree, and stripping it of its branches.
She trailed her eyes over Billy's shoulders and arms and he looked over at her. She was far enough away so that she couldn't quite make out his eyes, but he cocked his head to the side and she waved. He waved back and she turned back to the water.
Something close to an hour later, there were several small fish on the beach and Abigail realised that she was further out than ever before. The water lapped at the bottom of her thighs and her skirts were drenched.
Perhaps I'd better go in, she thought. Surely we'll have enough?
As she turned she caught sight of something pink. She stared at the brightly coloured sphere as it bobbed lazily atop the water and she frowned. Was it a fish? Her head tilted as she peered at it and she held back the urge to poke it.
Uncertain, she did her best to edge around it, even though the bright colours drew her eyes again and again. A wave surged and sent the pink bubble straight towards her and she winced when it brushed against her bare arm.
"Oh," she said at first feeling nothing but an odd sort of texture as she brushed it away from her. Thin ribbons extended from underneath the bubble and slid against her wrist. She shook them off and trudged back to the shore.
The pain struck her three steps later.
"Oh," she said crying out as she clutched her hand to her chest.
Sharp, stinging agony erupted along her wrist and her vision swam as the pain laced up her arm.
The shore, she told herself. Get to the shore, Abigail.
Her breath stuttered in her chest as a strange sort of tightness squeezed and it became a struggle to take a breath. The net slipped from her numb fingers and floated away,
"No," she whimpered, blindly reaching for the net. The pain lanced through her again, and her head thrummed under the heat of the sun.
Her chest hurt with every breath she took and panic settled into her throat when a shallow breath turned into a sob.
"…Abigail?"
She took another step towards the shore, blinking as the light reflected off the water flashed in her eyes.
"Abigail!"
A blur that she believed to be Billy ran towards her as her breathing grew ever more ragged.
"I…" she tried to speak. "Billy?"
The world went terribly blurry after that.
Billy's heart stopped when he saw Abigail stagger in the surf. It surged when she pitched sideways into the water.
"Abigail!" he shouted running to her, Murphy right behind him.
He pulled her up into his arms before her head submerged. Her eyes blinked up at him blindly as tears streamed over her cheeks as she clutched her arm close.
"What happened?" he asked harshly as he cradled her close and walked to the shore.
"Ah, you fecker!" Murphy shouted behind him. "Jellyfish! Fecker must've stung her. Where'd it get her?"
"Her arm," Billy said heading straight for the shelter. He knelt in the sand beside the water bucket and she looked around wildly and then up at him. He tried to smile. "Easy, easy, you're all right, Abigail. It's all right."
"Billy?" she said and Christ, her voice was a faint echo of what it should have been.
"You were stung by a jellyfish," he said and he ignored the way his hand trembled as he gently reached for her injured arm. "I need to have a look, yeah?" She closed her eyes and shuddered. He frowned as he looked down at her. "Abigail?"
Her chest rose and fell in short, sharp movements. Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she stared up at him, fear etched across her face.
"Fuck," he breathed. "Can you breathe?"
She shook her head jerkily.
"Best get that contraption off her, Bones," Murphy said, worry in his voice. "Remember Old William?"
He did. The man had been stung by a jellyfish one morning and before anyone got to the old man, he'd died from not being able to get a breath due to the pain.
Billy glanced at Abigail's dress and winced. He slipped the small knife from her sash and said, "I'm sorry, but you need to breathe."
She just blinked up at him, those wonderfully brown eyes filled with tears and his resolve solidified. He nodded once.
He looked back at her dress and faltered. He knew what he needed to do, he just wasn't quite sure…where. His pressed against her back and he felt something like ties.
"Right," he muttered shifting Abigail in his arms so she fell forward into his chest. He adjusted at the last minute so that her face came to rest on his shoulder, her lips close to his neck. Her breath was a wheeze beside his ear as he peered down the length of her back. With a careful hand, Billy slipped the knife under the length of ribbon that held the top of her dress together, and then he sliced upwards.
The dress came apart under his hands and he lowered her back to the ground.
"Nicely done, mate," Murphy said. "But there's more. How do they get around in all that?"
Billy gritted his teeth and, not for the first time, wished Murphy miles away. He swiftly pulled the top of Abigail's dress up and, oh, it wasn't attached to the rest of her skirts, so off it came. She cried out when the sleeve rubbed against the sting and Billy cursed and apologized. He frowned as he set the material aside, and then without even thinking about it, he sliced up through the ribbons of her stays.
The moment they slid apart, Abigail breathed in deeply. Her eyes closed and she sobbed a little as she tried to catch her breath.
Billy slid his arm around her and held her up. "Easy, easy, love. Just breathe easy. One at a time, that's it. Go slow."
Once her breathing calmed, she said, "My arm."
"I know," he said finally looking down at the wound and wincing. "Bastard got you, I'm sorry."
It was an angry pink and he could see precisely where the tentacles had wrapped themselves around her pale skin. Ribbons of dark pink circled her wrist and up her forearm. They were already swelling and he cringed, knowing that they'd be painful for several days to come.
"Fuck," he said under his breath. "Murphy, get some seawater."
"Yeah," Murphy said before he headed to the beach, grabbing their makeshift pot from beside the fire.
"I lost my net," Abigail said sadly as her eyes filled with tears.
"You'll make a new one," he said smiling a little as he untucked some of the spare cloths she had tucked into her sash, as he did his level best not to look at the way her thin chemise clung to her body now that her stays gaped open. She had a small patch of freckles dotted along her collarbone and…
God damn it, focus, man, he shouted at himself and breathed a sigh of relief when Murphy appeared with the saltwater.
Billy carefully submerged her arm into the saltwater and wiped away the sand from the pink patches. Abigail moaned and bit her lip, and eventually, she closed her eyes and turned her head. Billy's frowned deepened and he held the back of his hand to her forehead.
"Shit," he muttered and immediately dipped a cloth into the cool water, which he placed on her skin.
"Fever?" Murphy asked.
"Yeah," Billy said watching as a flush appeared in Abigail's cheeks and sweat beaded at her temples. "Shit."
He picked her up and carried her into the shelter out of the glare of the sun. She stirred in his arms and murmured, "Billy?"
"Yeah, love, you're fine," he said.
"So warm," she said, her eyelids fluttered. "My arm."
"I know," he said. "I know it hurts. Just rest, Abigail. You'll be all right."
Her eyes opened briefly and the smile she gave him was so sweet and small, his heart thudded erratically in his chest. But then her eyes closed and she fell silent.
"Shit," he said again.
"She's such a tiny thing," Murphy said handing the basin of salt water in to Billy. "This'll be harder for her, won't it? The poison'll work over her faster."
"Yeah," Billy said looking up at her face and the white lines of pain beside her eyes. "But she's stronger than she looks."
Christ, this is going to be a long night, Billy thought as he cradled her in his arms.
And it was.
Billy had seen fighting. He'd seen bloodshed and endured torture and had wrought serious violence with his own hands. But nothing had prepared him for how fucking helpless he felt as he watched Abigail struggle with the pain and fever the sting provoked.
Sweat poured down her temples and she alternated between winces and shivers throughout most of the day and into the night. When darkness fell and the temperature dropped, she settled more.
Billy never left her side.
Murphy cooked the fish she'd caught earlier and then kept to himself by the fire, mending his coracle, while Billy remained in the shelter, Abigail in his arms.
Billy was more than aware that he didn't need to stay. She had a fever, yes, but it would pass (God, he hoped it would pass) and the sting was bad, but he'd seen worse. In truth, he stayed because he couldn't imagine a reason good enough to induce him to leave.
The moon waxed and waned in the night sky. The waves crashed against the shore. And like these incontrovertible truths of nature, if Abigail was injured, Billy would remain by her side.
He did his level best to ignore the implications of this newfound devotion (because, Christ, he had managed to forget every single word he'd said earlier that day because he was a fucking idiot who hadn't meant any of it in the first place) and continued to try to get her to drink as much water as she could.
Eventually, she fell into a fitful sleep and when the moon was high in the sky, Billy dozed off as well.
He awoke to a sharp whimper.
Billy blinked in the darkness and looked down at Abigail where she lay beside him. With the base of his palm, he rubbed his eyes and then sat up. She twitched and there it was again, a high-pitched whimper escaped from her tightly-pressed lips; it was as though she tried to be as silent as possible as she held back her fear.
"Hey," he said quietly as he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. "Easy."
She shook her head and her lips trembled.
"Abigail," he said. "You're dreaming. It's all right. I promise, you're-"
"Don't!" she cried out as she sat up straight.
Her reaction brought her straight into Billy's arms, her body curled against his chest. They both froze for a moment, but when Billy curled an arm around her back, she shuddered and pressed her forehead to his shoulder.
For several long seconds, he just held her. Eventually, she calmed enough to say, "I was dreaming, wasn't I?"
"Yeah," he said, turning his head a little, so that his lips brushed against her hair. "You've had a fever most of the day after the sting. Bound to give you bad sleep, I guess."
"It wasn't a new one," she said shaking her head.
"Sorry?"
"The dream," she said. "It was the usual one. He's just...there. Looking at me. Still as a stone. But then..."
She shuddered.
"Then?" he asked, not really wanting the answer, but asking anyway.
"He lunges for me and pulls me into the dark," she whispered. "I can't see anything. But I can hear him breathing and his hands… They hurt." She shifted her injured arm. "This certainly doesn't help matters."
"Let's have a look," he said easing her away from him gently.
The moon shone in a cloudless night sky, and he looked at her arm in the pale light.
"Swelling's gone down some," he said. "How does it feel?"
"Rather horrible, if I'm honest," she said wincing as she turned it. "My head hurts and my chest feels..."
She broke off and looked down at herself. Her stays still hung open on her body, and her chemise was still plainly visible. A flush that Billy suspected had nothing to do with a fever spread across her face as she said, "Oh. You had to… I'd forgotten."
She shifted a little and Billy cleared his throat. "Oh, uh. I have the other part of your dress, um, somewhere. Do you want it? I had to, uh, cut that, too. Sorry."
"It's fine," she said pulling her stays together and clumsily trying to tie the cut ribbons together with one hand. "Breathing is far more important than a dress."
"I agree," he said. "Here, let me."
He slipped his fingers under hers and did his best to tie what he could. The backs of his fingers brushed against her chemise and found that his throat was horribly dry.
"Uh, is that..?" he muttered, dropping his hands.
"It'll do," she said glancing at him before her brow furrowed as she winced.
"Hurting?" he asked and she nodded. "Yeah, have some water. It'll help."
After she drank what she could, she smiled at him. "Thank you."
"Just water," he said.
"Not that," she said laughing a little. "You helped me. Thank you."
"Can't have my only partner on this godforsaken island leaving me on my own," he said with a shrug.
She stared at him and he stared back, suddenly aware of the complete and utter truth in his statement.
"Murphy's here," she whispered.
"Not the same," he said, his own voice gone hoarse. "Not the same at all."
"But," she said. "This is a bad idea? You said so."
"I did," he said nodding. "And it is."
She stared at him and blinked slowly. "I… But you said…"
"I know," he replied.
"Oh," she said and worried her lip. "Did you lie? Earlier? About not wanting to have me see you as you are?"
"No," he said. "I didn't lie. I wouldn't lie. Not to you."
"Oh," she said again. She stared at him and he saw the moon reflected in her eyes, before she swayed a little and blinked. "I think I have thoughts on this, but I'm in too much pain to be clear on the matter."
"That's more than understandable," he said chuckling.
"I should sleep now?" she asked looking an adorable cross between hopeful and confused.
"You should," he said.
"You'll..." She lifted her chin. "You'll stay?"
His answer was to simply tug her close and lean back against the back of the shelter. She curled up against his chest, her injured arm draped over his stomach.
"Sleep, Abigail," he murmured into her hair. "The rest'll sort itself out. One way or another."
"Mmmm," she said nodding.
Fuck, he thought as she fell back to sleep. It won't make any bloody difference if I'm with her or not. She's still here. She'll always be here. She's found a way inside me and there's no shifting her.
She tucked herself even closer and he curled his arm around her to bring her closer still and bent his head down.
I don't even want to shift her, he thought. You're done for it now, Bones, and you don't even fucking care, do you?
He breathed in and smiled as wisps of her hair tickled his face.
The next morning, Abigail was more herself. Her colour was greatly improved even though the sting was still dark pink.
"It may scar," Billy said when he patted it with more saltwater.
"I don't mind," she said staring at it and rotating her arm to see the length of the ribbon etched onto her skin. "I only feel so foolish that it happened at all."
"Don't," he said. "They're silent, cruel little bastards. You can't exactly hear them coming."
"All the same," she said. "I'm sorry for being so much trouble."
"Hey," he said catching her eyes by slipping a finger just beneath her chin. "Remember what I said our first day?"
"About being smarter than the men who punched each other?" she asked smiling slightly.
"Yeah," he said. "Still stands, sweetheart."
Her smile broadened as did a pink flush that spread from her cheeks down her throat to her… Billy coughed and looked away, only to spot Murphy headed their way.
"Good morning, Mr Murphy," Abigail said.
"Morning, mermaid," he said. "You're looking much better. Pink's come back to your cheeks, hasn't it, Billy?"
He glared up at Murphy who just winked at him.
"How's the arm?" Murphy asked.
"Still painful, but I'll manage," Abigail said.
"Course you will," Murphy said grinning. "Going to see me off?"
"You're leaving?" she asked, her face falling slightly.
"Better had," he said looking up at the sky. "On the edge of stormy season as it is. Never know when a squall will pick up. 'Sides, that one's men are going to set Nassau ablaze without him to manage them."
"And you're owed a fair amount of drink by that Bailey, aren't you?" she added. "The man who insulted your honour."
Billy snorted, but Murphy tapped his nose as he said. "Too right, mermaid. You understand matters of pride and honour."
"I'm beginning to," she said smiling.
"Bones, a word before I cast off," Murphy said jerking his head towards the shoreline.
"All right?" Billy asked Abigail.
"As long as jellyfish haven't managed to learn how to walk on land in the last few days," she said. "I'm fine."
He smiled and tugged a little at her hair before he got up to talk to Murphy.
"What do you want me to tell your crew?" Murphy asked, looking half serious for once.
"That if they want to make sure the centre fucking holds while their captains try to bring the world crashing all around their heads, they'll send someone out here to pick me the fuck up," Billy said shrugging. "Or if that doesn't work, tell them you met a real, live mermaid."
"Oh, I was going to tell them that anyway," Murphy said grinning. "Think they'll believe me?"
"About the mermaid?"
"About you."
Billy shrugged. "Find Ben Gunn and tell him that it's his turn to fucking pay me back for getting him out of that cage and off that island. He'll listen. And if he doesn't, try Jacob Garrett. Then try Silver."
Murphy shuddered. "Rather not, if it's all the same. I'll make them listen, Bones. Don't you worry."
Murphy grinned again at him and Billy managed one in return, clapping the other man on the shoulder. "Yeah, fuck it. Let's get you underway."
Abigail emerged from the shelter, still clad in her messily tied together stays over her chemise and her skirts. Her arm is an angry red and she held it close to her body as she watched Billy help Murphy get his coracle into the shallows.
"Right," Billy said. "You've got water, some food, a paddle, and a hell of a lot of crazy. Need anything else?"
"Kiss for luck?" he suggested winking at Abigail.
Billy rolled his eyes, but Abigail came closer and smiled at Murphy.
"How could I possibly deny our rescuer an additional portion of luck?" Abigail said as she leant up and pressed a quick kiss to Murphy's cheek.
Billy wasn't sure who looked more taken aback, Murphy or himself. Credit to the other man, though, he recovered quicker than Billy did.
"Mermaid, it will be my absolute pleasure to ensure the rescue of your fair self," Murphy said as he pressed his hand over his heart.
"Just be careful," Abigail said solemnly.
Billy held back a scoff. The man was about to take on the ocean in a coracle. Again. 'Careful' didn't really come into the matter. But Murphy simply nodded and slapped Billy's arm.
"Keep those jellyfish out of her way, mate," he said. "And see you soon! I'll buy you a drink!"
"No, you won't," Billy muttered, but he still helped push the coracle with Murphy in it, out into the shallows and then he stepped back to stand beside Abigail.
Billy kept his face completely blank as they watched Murphy spin and float in circles for several long minutes before the man finally got to paddling.
"Oh, dear," Abigail said under her breath.
"Yeah," Billy said.
They fell silent again as Murphy figured out 'forward' and Abigail moved closer to Billy.
"How long?" she asked as they watched Murphy approach the reef.
"Before he hits the reef?" Billy asked. "Any moment now."
"I actually meant Nassau," Abigail said before she grabbed Billy's hand as Murphy and his coracle crested high on a wave. "Oh, I don't know that I can watch this."
"I'll tell you when it's over," Billy said as he tightened his own grip around her hand.
"No," she said shaking her head. "No, I'll watch."
They both held their breath and watched Murphy paddle furiously. The waves swept out and then surged up. Murphy surged up with them.
And cleared the reef.
A loud shout drifted back to them on the wind and Abigail laughed. "Oh, heavens," she said pressing her free hand to her chest. "That was dreadful."
"He's a fucking idiot," Billy said scrubbing a hand over his face.
They stood watching Murphy as he slowly disappeared from view, a mere dot on the horizon.
"Five or six days," Billy said at last.
"Pardon?"
"That's how long it should take him to reach Nassau," he said.
"How long after that?"
"You mean if he gets anyone to listen to him and they decide to rescue us?" Billy said. "A week, maybe."
"And how long before we give up hope and have to rescue ourselves?" she asked, her grip firm on his hand.
He paused and looked down at her. "Abigail."
"Billy," she said squeezing his hand. "We have lives to get back to. How long before we need to take matters into our own hands?"
He stared down at the woman he was fairly certain he was more than halfway in love with and just took her in. Every bedraggled, lovely inch of her, from her pale, bare feet, to the ribbon of angry pink that wound around her wrist, to her clear, intelligent eyes.
"Fourteen days," he said. "Then we take our fate back into our own hands."
