Silverwolf407 asked for the story from Silver's point of view and I couldn't resist writing about my fav character. :p
Disney (c) everything
Silver rubbed his pounding head before dipping his large hand back into the tuber basket. Peeling the little tubers was a tedious task in itself but Jim's constant whining made it that much more unbearable. "I'm telling ya for te last time, lad. No. Now stop yer bellyachin' an' keep workin' on t'em tubers."
He heard an annoyed sound from behind him and glanced over at the young man as he massacred a perfectly good root. "I'm bored! I wanna get out and do something! Why can't I go up in the shrouds like the others?"
"Ye haven't worked enough ta get up t'ere." The man explained dryly. "For now ye'll stay 'ere where I can keep an eye on ya." Judging by Jim's harsh snort he was not pleased with Silver's decree. The cyborg continued with his chore until, "Just because you're too fat to get up there…"
"Wa'd ya say?"
His cabin boy flashed an innocent smile that didn't reach his mischievous eyes and he pitched the bare root up to Silver's waiting hand. "I said we're out of tubers." Silver nodded slowly; if the boy wanted a chore the cook would happily provide him one.
"Well t'en, ye can walk off yer jitters by gettin' us some more from the hold. Double time!" He grinned at the heavy sound that hissed out of the disappointed Jim, but he obediently stood and, dragging the basket behind him, stomped up the steps. "And don' let me catch ya loafin' around." Silver warned.
As soon as Jim was out on the open deck the cyborg sighed and shook his head. He hated being the warden to Jim's cell and would like nothing more than to let him out and burn off his pent up energy. But the Captain had made it perfectly clear that Silver would be accountable for any of the boy's antics, forcing the cook to either keep Jim under figurative lock and key or under constant surveillance. Speaking of which…
"Morpy!" Silver whistled and his small companion trilled and rolled onto his broad shoulder. "Why don't ya do me a favor an' go keep an eye on Jimbo?" He pulled Morph's favorite cracker out of his pocket and offered it to the delighted creature as a bribe. Morph devoured the treat, licked his stubbled cheek and flew off after Jim's disappearing figure.
Alone in the galley with his thoughts and his food the cyborg continued with his trade, dicing the peeled tubers with an expert ease. He paused momentarily to examine Jim's substantial pile, whistling merrily and holding a peeled tuber between two large fingers. The lad was proving to be a surprisingly helpful cabin boy and the Ursid was beginning to think that he was not as hopeless as he had first thought. He was even starting to warm up to the boy, despite his annoyingly frequent habit of challenging Silver with every breath, and to his own surprise he found the young man's company…pleasant. The cyborg certainly would have never tolerated any of his crew calling him fat; just thinking of the snarky comment made Silver chuckle and shake his head.
Several minutes passed but Jim's footsteps didn't resound from the galley steps. The old pirate wiped his hands on the tattered apron around his waist and glanced, irritated, at the small stairs. He had warned the boy after the first time he ran off on their third day that the next time Silver would drag him back by his rat-tail and it seemed like he would have to live up to his word.
A loud chirp announced the sudden arrival of Morph and Silver grinned with relief as his small pet flew around him. "Ah, Morphy! Is our boy stayin' out of trouble?" He asked playfully, but the look of fright on the creature's face and his quick babbling doused the cyborg's enthusiasm. "W'at is it, Morph?"
"Trouble trouble trouble!" His friend squealed and pulled on the collar of his coat.
At his friends frantic insisting Silver followed him up the steps and onto the open deck. However, a quick sweep of the area produced no sight of the boy. "Where'd ya leave 'im?"
Morph yelped and flew straight up into the sails; Silver's gaze followed past the lower topsail and…
"Jimbo!"
The boy was hanging, unmoving in the shrouds of the upper topsail. Silver blinked once, twice, but each time the vision before him failed to dissipate the more his blood boiled like burning soup. Figurative lock and key be damned - he was going to build a door for the galley, throw the boy inside and lock it with a very real key.
Silver heard a burst of laughter from the left and looked to see a small band of his crew assembled around the base of the shrouds – the most prominent of them being the gaunt Scroop. He snarled and stalked over to the group, feeling a rush of satisfaction as they fell silent and gazed warily at his intimidating form. "I don' suppose anyone knows about t'is." He growled, jerking his thumb in Jim's direction.
The tall spider was the only one to match his glare, the amused guilt shining through his leer. "The boy wanted a challenge."
"An' ye were all too happy to put 'em on t'ose shrouds."
Scroop shrugged, uninterested. "He'ssss not our ressssponsssibility."
Silver recognized the subtle insult and decided to remind the bug of his proper place. "We're closer ta gettin' ta Flint's Trove t'en we've ever been and ye'd put our entire operation in danger just ta get yer kicks harassin' a cabin boy?" The large man leaned back and crossed his arms as his displeased shipmates turned on the Manticore, unhappy with the slightest idea of losing their treasure. "T'at's exactly w'at's gonna happen if he falls! Ye'd best pray t'at he gets up and back down without harm."
"He already made it up!" Squawked Bird Brain Mary from her spot on the railing. "He's comin' down now! Surprised, Silver turned back and focused his clicking mechanical eye on Jim's thin figure; just like she had said, the boy was not moving up as he had first thought – he was slowly making his way down. It did little to sooth the cyborg's anger; it just meant he had less time than he thought to make the door.
He tore his gaze away from the shrouds and back to the crew. "Ye've all had yer fun, now get back to work before – "
A desperate cry cut him short and all eyes jumped to the shrouds as…
Falling. Jim was falling; he was falling, falling, falling a fall he would not survive, falling and Silver would never make it to him in time, and…
And it stopped; the nightmare didn't play out. Jim was clinging in relative safety to the back of the shrouds, not sprawled out motionless across the deck. After several seconds of deep gasps the pirate looked back to his crew; every face was locked onto Jim except for one that had seen the fear circulating through Silver's body. He glared back at the uncaring golden eyes. "Get. Back. To. Work." No one argued and one by one they slunk away, except for Scroop, who stared accusingly at his captain before finally joining his shipmates.
With the threat extinguished and his heart rate under control the pirate again fixated on his cabin boy. Jim's exhaustion was evident from his lurching movements and despite Silver's anger he was amazed that such a greenhorn could accomplish this amazing feat. Suddenly the boy stopped, looked to the deck and began to shake violently. This time Silver was ready. He didn't panic, or freeze, but with a calm gait placed himself underneath the boy and opened his arms as Jim fell into him.
It was amazing how quickly Silver's wrath faded the moment he got the trembling, drained Jim into the safety of the galley. He looked over at the young man, sitting miserably at the table, a convict thrown back into his prison, as Silver piled fistfuls of ice into thin cloth bags. "I told ya ye haven't worked enough ta climb te shrouds!" The bags found their marks on Jim's arms and though the boy uttered a sound of discomfort he didn't complain. "Yer soggy muscles weren't near ready for t'at sort of work! If Morphy hadn't of scurried down 'ere and warned me - "
The image of Jim laying limp across the deck flashed in his mind but Silver's hesitation was masked by the teen's voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was going to be such a pain, okay? I won't do it again."
Again Silver felt the warden's burden on his shoulders and he sighed as he buckled under the pressure. "I don't like bein' cooped up down 'ere anymore than ya do, lad." He felt vaguely surprised when he realized it was the truth and that he would like nothing more than to be on deck with Jim, coaching him and cheering him on through the shrouds. "Ye'll get up t'ere again before everyt'ing's done, but ye'll wait till I t'ink yer ready and not a second sooner."
"Alright." The boy agreed, sounding both relieved and terrified of the idea of repeating the challenge. "And thanks for…"
"Catchin' ya like a baby Mantabird?" Silver laughed at the humiliation written on Jim's face. "That."
He gently clapped the boy's shoulder and pushed himself up in the same motion. "Now Jimbo, ye know I would never jus' let ya fall. Rest up fer now, cause come tonight ye'll 'ave a slew of chores ta do t'at will get yer muscles in the right shape for the shrouds. And ya can start by goin' and getting' t'em damn tubers!"
