He was sleeping when he heard the shouting and screaming from down in the hold.
Pintel opened his eyes and he growled softly to himself as he rolled over and tried to get back to sleep.
It was that stupid new kid again!
Pintel growled to himself again as the screaming grew louder and he pressed his hands against his ears.
This was not his problem…the boy needed to learn how to take care of himself; just like he had been forced to do when he was new to the Navy.
The seventeen year old had been dragged aboard the ship two weeks ago; sobbing and struggling all the way up the ramp onto the ship.
From what Pintel could figure out, the boy's mother had died recently and his drunk of a father had sold the boy to the Navy for a handful of gold coins to feed his rum habit.
The lad was nothing but bones and Pintel and the others had laughed when he stumbled and fell onto the deck, covering his head with his hands as he pleaded with them to let him off the ship.
He was rewarded with a sharp kick in the ribs by the captain and this had caused the rest of the crew to laugh harder as the blow caused the boy to flip over painfully with a yelp, sounding like a puppy when it's hit with a belt.
After that the boy was immediately labeled as the ship's whore. It wasn't really that hard to believe either. The boy was too thin to fight back for one thing and his hair…his hair was impossibly blonde for a man of any age! It was almost white with how the sun shone down on it, but after a few more weeks on the ship without a proper bath, it wouldn't be long before it would be nothing but grime.
For a moment the screaming was muffled and Pintel smiled a little and softly snickered at the idea of the boy being silenced by something in his mouth.
Suddenly someone else's scream rang out and was followed by the boy's screams once more, but there was something different about this scream. It was more shrill and painful.
The door that went from the bunks to the hold slammed open and the quartermaster stormed in, muttering darkly to himself about stupid bitches not learning to keep their mouths open and their teeth to themselves.
In the firelight Pintel saw the glint of a knife in the man's hand and for the first time ever he felt worry for the lad down below.
Without thinking about it he was up and heading for the hold, taking up a lantern and lighting it so that he could see better.
He headed down the stairs and he was forced to stop once he reached the bottom.
The new boy's clothes were in a bundle on the ground; torn up by rough hands and a knife, but that wasn't the real reason Pintel had stopped.
There was blood on the floor…an impossible amount of blood…and something else.
In the darkness he could hear soft whimpering and sniffles and he slowly started to follow the trail of blood and chunks of something else and soon enough he found the boy; naked and huddled in the far corner, both of his hands clamped tightly over his right eye.
"'ey…" Pintel said lamely and the boy flinched and wept softly as he tried to bury himself further into the corner.
Pintel sighed softly and he looked away in thought before he then shrugged off his jacket and lightly placed it over the boy's thin shoulders.
"Come on…" he urged gently. "Le' me see 'ow bad et is."
The boy whimpered and shook his head, unable to speak as nothing but choking and sputtering came from his throat.
"I won' 'urt ye, lad." Pintel promised him, and he placed a hand on his arm, and he mentally kicked himself in the head as the boy yelped and jerked away.
"Wot's yer name?" he asked.
Time seemed to stop then and slowly the boy turned his head to look at him, both of his trembling hands still clamped over his eye.
No one had bothered to try and learn the boy's name before then.
"R…Ra…Ragetti." He whispered softly. Pintel nodded and he smiled.
"My name's Pintel. Naow come on…le' me see yer eye."
Ragetti hesitated for a moment, and then slowly he moved his hands.
Pintel stared in horror at the eye.
No, not the eye…there wasn't an eye there anymore!
"I…I bit 'im an' then 'e…'e…" Ragetti's lips started to tremble again and tears rolled down one side of his face.
"Hush." Pintel said gently and for a moment he paused in surprise at himself before he then shook his head and looked back at Ragetti.
"I'll take ye ta the doctor, Rags." He said with a smile.
"Rags?"
"Aye, ye don' loik et?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow as he helped the trembling boy onto his feet.
"Neva 'ad a nickname afore." Ragetti explained shyly, looking down at the ground as he kept one hand over his lost eye.
"Besoides bein' called whore, slut, an'…"
"Stow et." Pintel said a little gruffly, causing him to flinch. He sighed and looked skyward as he led him out of the hold.
"Ye jus' need ta take care o' yerself betta, lad." He said. "I can' always take care o' ye naow kin I?"
"I know…" he mumbled softly.
Pintel nodded and ignored the looks he got as they entered the bunk for a moment. They headed for the door and he stopped, shooting an angry glare at everyone looking at them.
"Anyone tries ta touch Ragetti 'ere agin…an' I'll 'ave yer bloody guts fer garters!" he snarled.
With that he led Ragetti out of the bunks and to the infirmary.
Ragetti looked over at him with a shy smile, and he leaned into him a little bit more, holding onto the jacket around his shoulders tightly.
"Fanks."