Angela reached a delicate hand toward Jesse's shoulder, the old man seething painfully as she run a tender thumb around the torn skin surrounding the devilish-looking hilt of the Reaper's dagger, the second man merely grumbling between a weakened chuckle, earning a stare of pure ire from Angela, finding him to be rather careless at this moment.
"It's nothin', really," he assured, shaking his head as he noticed Hana scurrying toward him after having patched up Lucio's arm, the sea dog grumbling, "You too! It ain't nothin' I haven't-"
"Shut it!" Hana ordered, handing an alcohol-soaked rag to Angela to disinfect and keep the would clean as the officer prepared to dress it, "I swear, all you men are absolutely insane."
Jesse grinned, "Somebody's gotta be."
Simply rolling her eyes, Hana shook her head disapprovingly as Angela carefully ran the rag around the wound, happy that the knife hadn't a guard at the end of its hilt. She dug her fingers around the knife's end, trying to get the alcohol deeper into the red-tinged skin for disinfection while a splitting sound came from Hana tearing off a large bandage. Jesse's eyes wandered up toward their stowaway, Fareeha walking over with a small flask, bending down to offer some of the whiskey to the wounded crewman.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that," she complimented, earning a grin as Jesse took a swig, "Not a bad partner to stupidity."
Hana frowned, "Except he's got a family waiting for him back home and he's still doing that shit."
At that, Jesse nodded, "I know what I'm doin'; don't confuse stupidity with- FUCK!"
Angela stripped the dagger out from Jesse's shoulder, the pain shooting through him like sharpened icicles jammed into his muscles, adrenaline unable to dull the pain this time around. He threw his hand up to cover his shoulder as he curled into a ball, shoving his forehead into his knee to try and numb the pain.
"Fuckin' mother of fuckin' god!" he exclaimed before Angela finally pulled his hand away so that Hana could reach over and bandage the wound.
Fareeha, standing over the whole scene, shook her head, "She went to a very shady nursing school."
"I can fuckin' tell!" Jesse cursed painfully, though Angela only shrugged.
"Distractions work wonders, trust me," she explained, turning over her shoulder to spot out her father, who'd enlisted Junkrat in helping to throw essential crates and barrels over onto the ghost ship, Angela speaking up with concern, "Father? Are we-?"
He eyed her, "This ship ain't gonna last long at all. I say we take what we can and get on somethin' seaworthy. You, stowaway."
Fareeha raised her head, her plain look forcing a sort of apologetic scowl across Jack's face as he reached up to scratch the back of his head, "Fareeha… You know about this sorta stuff, right?"
She shrugged, "Kind of. I mean, it might take a while to figure out, but-"
"Alright," Captain Morrison offered, aiming an arm toward the ghost ship, "Then would you do the honors?"
Angela's eyes widened as she turned to Fareeha, the tan of her face hiding the blush streaking across her face at the offer, one only given to captains, she knew, "W- I, uh-"
Jack shrugged, "I haven't a clue this side of the Galapagos. Might as well relinquish my post to somebody who's somewhat trained with such craft."
Fareeha hadn't an answer as her face simply remained in awe, though Angela quickly stood up and pushed her forward, offering her something in the way of direction. Fareeha acquiesced, though only slowly, stepping toward the edge of the burning Splitstream with an apprehensive gait as Jack leaned back, raising a hand to give further instruction.
"Hana, help McCree get on over here. Angela, you've got Lucio to assist, and Junkrat, hurry and give Lena some-"
"I got it, I got it," Lena murmured weakly, crawling on all fours across the deck, "Just because my legs are nearly dead doesn't mean I can't move."
Jack smirked, "I'd hate to see you try and crawl across the gap between the ships."
The woman stopped, groaning under her breath as her head shook lowly, "Junkie… Could you offer me a hand?"
"Well certainly, sheila!" Junkrat gave happily, rushing over to help Lena to her feet.
Lena advised, "Just don't give me the 'Angela treatment'; that crap looks painful."
"I was helping," Angela clarified as she helped Lucio to his feet, frowning as even he began to laugh at their chatter stop the deck.
Jack finished with the collection of barrels and small crates he'd had Junkrat bring over, tossing the final one over before turning toward the stern side of his Splitstream, which had now totally caught flame, the wheel with which he'd commandeered for decades now torched beneath the powerful flames that had nearly consumed his vessel. The ship had already begun taking on water, leaving it utterly unsalvageable, the captain's brow falling regretfully as Fareeha approached him, preparing to step across toward the ghost ship.
Without turning his head toward her, Jack muttered quietly, for only her to hear, "You've got heart. You're green still, but you've got heart. n' I don't doubt that you're a good person underneath the stowing away."
Fareeha watched him uncertainly, wary of his intent, though he merely asked, "You remember our promise?"
Her heart dropped, recalling their meeting in the hold. Their promise. Fareeha looked down at her feet, eying the two foot-long distance between the ships, knowing she'd promised that her relationship with Angela was to end as soon as she stepped foot from this burning wreckage of a ship's frame.
Jack gave her a glance that felt so empty as he spoke, "I hope you'll know what to do when the time comes."
Fareeha watched him with sheer worry in her heart, even as Jack waved for her to cross on over to the other ship. She did so with a weighted heart, taking the first step onto the ghastly wood of the adjacent vessel, finding it seaworthy even for the living. She quickly crossed at that point, turning around to help Jesse over as Hana released his arm from around her shoulders before hopping over the chasm next. She then helped Lena across, the British woman offering her thanks, and then Junkrat, and then came Lucio, leaving only Angela and Jack remaining on the Splitstream's torn to smithereen'd deck.
Watching with worry, Fareeha caught Jack's still-pensive glance back toward his ship, which Angela must have noticed as well. She reached her arms around his torso, embracing him tightly as she buried her face in his chest, misery setting in as she truly began to realize everything that was falling to scorched pieces around him.
"I'm so sorry father," she offered with an anguished tone, forcing her father's head to fall to meet hers, giving her a quick kiss at her scalp.
He admitted, "Don't be. It hurts, but- We all move on, sooner or later. Even your mother, I- I came to terms with that long ago."
Jack embraced his daughter, returning her tight hug before pushing her away, his smile saddened by the tears streaming down his daughter's face, "Go on. We haven't much time."
Angela lowered her head, both in misery and in care for where she stepped, gliding across the gap and into the arms of Fareeha as she pulled her close, taking her father's place in embracing her, which Angela allowed, reaching up to clutch her powerful arm around her. So lost in her sadness, Angela couldn't bare to raise her eyes, lest she find her parents' kingdom aflame once again, on the brink of destruction, her body shaking tearfully until a noice panged into her mind.
She heard a whimper behind her, Angela turning her head to find Hana with her arms crossed, her head buried low, tears falling from her eyes and onto the ship beneath her. The sight of such a strong girl so caught up in emotion, Angela quickly turned to find what had so taken her heart into wrenching guilt.
The air around Angela thickened, her lungs seizing up as she failed to take a breath. Captain Morrison, her father, his hands so characteristically ignoring his coat pockets and instead burying themselves into his breeches; the man had only a single foot across the chasm, pushing the ghost ship out beyond his reach, his body remaining squarely upon the conflagrated Splitstream.
Angela's eyes went wide, and in a desperate collection of emotions, she threw herself against Fareeha's grasp, her captor shedding a tear herself at the furious begging from within her arms, "Father! Fa-! DAD! Dad, please! Don't'-!"
Her throat choked up from the pools of water collapsing from her eyes as she desperately pushed herself from Fareeha's grasp, but to no avail, whimpering with anguish in place of words, crying uncontrollably as her father lowered his head.
"I taught you a lot about the sea, Angela," he muttered sadly, "I just never thought I'd have to teach you that a captain always goes down with his ship."
"DAD!" Angela begged through tearful pangs of voice, "DADDY, PLEASE DON'T! YOU DON'T HAVE TO! NO!"
Jack's shoulders fell before raising his head up one final time, "I do. I trained you up, and look around you. I made sure you had a mighty fine crew with you, as well. You all have a good-hearted captain, as well; 'n I know you all haven't gotten to know her, but- Angela's a good kid. She knows well enough."
"Daddy…" Angela whined collapsing within Fareeha's arm, "Don't leave me… Father!"
Her father smiled sadly, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I get to be with your mother again…"
He sighed, "Jesse will make sure you're safe. Lena, she'll keep your spirits up, 'n Hana will make sure you're all in line. Junkrat will- he'll do what he does best, and Lucio will keep you all together with a good meal. What more do you need, dear?"
"MY FATHER!" Angela cried out painfully.
Jack shook his head, smiling, "You don't need me anymore. You've outgrown me. You outgrew me fifteen years ago when you were throwin' sitters out the door like a bartender."
His head fell, "And you've got that woman right there who knows better than to keep her promise and let you jump on over here and throw your life away for an old man who wasn't even that good of a father to you all those years."
The air surrounding them thickened with silence, leaving Jack to mutter, "I do believe I'm asking you to take on my crew, Fareeha. I do believe a primage is in order to ensure their safe keeping, correct?"
Fareeha's eyes went wide with confusion, her throat dry as Jack eyed her, finishing the thought for her, "Why not take my daughter, then. You'll keep her safe, alright?"
"Of course," Fareeha muttered weakly, the moment having swept her up into emotions as well.
Jack nodded, "And you'll be there for her on those nights when she's torn up and crying, right?"
"Yes."
Jack paused, before offering sadly, "Thanks. That's more than I was ever able to do."
Her eyes so red and burned with tears, Angela had no choice but to shut them tight, burying her face into her hands, unable to watch her father slipping his coat off his shoulders, taking it into his hand and tossing it over for Lena to catch off the side of the ship. Jack gave his former crew one final smile as he took a step back.
"I'll be there whenever you need me," Jack gave with one final set of words, "I love you all. Don't forget that."
The Splitstream taking on water, Jack's boots waded through the foot-high water that now took on the interior of the ship as he made his way down into his quarters, its ceiling aflame as roils of fire still made their way along the ship. He struggled to take each step against the resistance at his feet, though eventually came to his desk, sliding upon the top draw to find a small painting that had been done of himself and his family when Angela was two years old, not long before his wife's death.
He smiled at his two girls, taking a seat in his chair while remaining fixed upon the painting, staring into his wife's eyes that held so much of her spirit even in something commission. He recalled, so easily, those eyes within which he would peer into during their most intimate moments, his wife's eyes that were only fixed upon Polaris. Jack grinned at the thought, thinking of her words.
"Only one fixes upon Polaris. I save them both only for you, my love."
His eyes fell meekly at such a thought, wondering if there truly were an afterlife whereupon he'd find her again. He knew he'd just seen devils, and demons, and skeletons, and yet… He couldn't be sure. Not when his wife's soul could be condensed into something as small as a necklace. Not Emmy's. Not somebody whose soul could have wrapped around the entire sea with how large and wonderful it was.
He shut his eyes then, allowing himself into a world where he could see that woman again, where he could be with both her and their daughter, remember those most magical of days where they were both home and able to lie in bed endlessly with their toddler of a daughter napping so peacefully between the two of them after some rambunctious activity had awoke the two parents anyway. They would have to choose which one would get up and find their daughter tangled with the drapes or coiled with some wayward piece of clothing while the other could return to sleep- though Jack never would. He couldn't sleep knowing his wife was awake, her beauty in need of somebody to stare upon, endlessly.
"I always liked that painting," came a voice from behind Jack, seemingly within his reality, though he didn't dare to open his eyes to find out.
Anything can be real, should you believe it hard enough.
Jack muttered behind closed eyes, "It can't compare to you, though."
"How would you know?" came the voice, a childish laughter accompanying such a feminine giggle, "You're not even looking."
Jack paused, unwilling to simply take himself away from such a visceral moment, "I can't."
"Why not?"
He confessed, "I'm afraid."
"Afraid? This is my husband we're talking about, right?" the voice inquired humourously.
Jack chuckled, "Losing you once was a pain I could travel the world a thousand times and not replicate. I wouldn't dare risk feeling that again."
The voice didn't return, not for a time, though Jack could almost feel a gentle presence circing around in front of him, that same voice that gave him comfort in his darkest nights emerging in a whisper, "You can trust me."
"I'm afraid," Jack repeated with a tinge of shame, the feeling of baring everything for this woman having become such a foreign feeling to him in the years since she'd pass.
In that moment, he felt warmth surrounding his neck, the most gentle pair of lips crossing over onto his- a feeling he couldn't have forgotten had he tried.
"Trust me, my love."
Jack trembled with worry, his eyes cracking open slowly, prepared to feel his heart tearing from him, though that never came. Before him, as if sitting upon his lap, straddling him with two arms around his broad shoulders, was his wife. Emmy. Her eyes peered into his with a downturned head that seemed to convey embarrassment.
"Oh, Emmy," he spoke with a shaking voice.
He threw his arms around her, pulling her close, burying his face into her shapeless bosom that remained as warm as those nights he'd thought were lost forever. Emmy held his head there with softened eyes, lowering her face to match his scalp, kissing his head and catching so much less hair on her lips than she'd been able to seventeen years ago, a fact that both amused and delighted her, knowing that her husband had remained alive to raise their daughter.
"You did a fine job," she approved of his parenting, leaving Jack to pull his head away, staring up to meet those eyes with a quivering voice, "Really?"
Emmy nodded, "I never stopped watching you two."
Jack's heart broke in the most soul-warming of ways, a smile appearing across his face, "I never stopped loving you."
"I know," she answered, "Let's forget the stars now. My eyes need to stay on you now, forever, you scruffy old man."
Jack chuckled, though before he could reply, everything went dark. So lost was he within his wife, he hadn't known whether the sea or the flames had taken him. But so far as he knew, his wife had taken him, once again, into her soul; just as she'd taken him into her bed many years ago, and taken him into her heart.
He was home.