3.
Tintin and Captain Haddock both know one constant truth about the ginger journalist: No matter where he goes, there will be an adventure waiting for him. This is something he's usually brought on himself- going to America to conquer its gangs, for instance, or deciding that he must stop an international drug ring and find the antidote to the terrible Rajaijah juice.
Even when he stumbles into an adventure, or a mystery, the important part is his own resolve to follow it, wherever it leads, and find the resolution for himself.
That's how they got here- deep in the rainforest, trying hard to evade the gunfire of the poachers they came here to take down. They were hot on the trail, but now the tables have turned- just for the moment, but if they are careless, it would be the end of them.
Tintin pulls Captain Haddock down into the brush with him. The journalist's heart is pounding with excitement, adrenaline. His muscles are taut and ready to spring. His fingers tremble slightly with anticipation, anxious to move. He keeps his hand on Haddock's back, hoping to steady his companion; he can feel the powerful back muscles tense under the thick sweater.
They hear the men approaching, and in moments the villains come into view. Haddock shifts uneasily, like a great cat anxious to strike. But he's not foolish enough to try anything. They only have a handgun and a rifle, and too few bullets to do any real good. They are outnumbered and outgunned.
Tintin is acutely aware of every sound and movement. He hopes that these awful men will keep moving and miss them. But he is aware of the possibility that they won't, and he is already working on plans to escape.
Which route do they take? Should they use what's left of their ammunition to cover their retreat? Ah, of course they should. They've only got one chance, and whatever happens, Tintin is not going to allow himself or, more importantly, Captain Haddock, to be killed this way, by men like this. That just isn't going to happen, period.
Every second that goes by seems like an hour. The men draw closer, too close. But they just barely miss Tintin and Haddock's hiding place. They carry on their search, moving deeper into the rainforest, and passing by the two completely.
As soon as he can no longer hear them, Tintin peeks up over the brush. Seeing no one there, he pulls on Captain Haddock's arm, beckoning and helping him up. Without a word, the two leave their cover and they are off once more, in the opposite direction of the poachers.
The day will be theirs, but first they must get back to the village, tell the elders what they've learned about the terrible poachers, and regroup. They'll need backup, they'll need weapons. It might be tough getting it all together, but that doesn't matter.
What matters is- they've got them! As he and Captain Haddock race through the rainforest, Tintin feels the rush of excitement he always gets when he's reached the climax of another great adventure. They're doing a lot of good, and he can already picture the story he'll write, it will be fantastic, it'll...
BANG! A shot rings out behind them and Tintin can't keep from giving a startled cry as terrible, overwhelming pain suddenly erupts in his shoulder. He stumbles, but quickly hides himself behind a thick tree. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he struggles with the strap of his rifle, but oh, it's just too hard to get it off with his shoulder like this!
"Assassins! Pirates! Ostrogoths!" Captain Haddock's voice is a roar as he fires vengefully at the lone man who'd decided to straggle or double back to find them.
His sheer presence must be intimidating enough, and his aim isn't shabby either. He has the lowlife running in no time, chasing after for a very short distance to get the scoundrel going. The Captain shouts more swears, waving his pistol in the air before returning quickly to Tintin.
Tintin feels light-headed and dizzy. He must be losing more blood than he thought. Having given up the struggle to free his rifle, Tintin sits on the ground, leaning against the tree, and shifts to get to his bag instead. Inside he's got some first aid supplies, he can at least tend to the wound until they can get back to the village- it's just so hard with one arm not working, and he can hardly focus for all the pain...
There's the sound of someone approaching, and he readies himself the best he can, even though there isn't much he could do. He's grateful when he looks up, slowly, to the wonderful sight of Captain Haddock standing over him. The Captain looks so anxious, but just seeing him, Tintin knows there is nothing to worry about now.
Haddock puts away his pistol and kneels quickly in front of Tintin. He examines the wound, cursing, touching the youth's arm with such gentle fingers.
"Alright, Tintin." Haddock says. "I'm going to have to open your shirt, so hold still. You're going to be just fine, lad, I promise." He still looks so worried, and sounds it too, but there is a confidence in his voice when he promises that, Tintin can't help but believe him.
The journalist shifts, lets the Captain unbutton his shirt. He doesn't think anything of it, even as Haddock gets to the last button, then opens the youth's ruined shirt to show his narrow chest- and stops cold for a moment as he sees the bandages already wrapped around it.
"Tintin?" Haddock breathes.
Suddenly Tintin feels horror. He looks with widened eyes up at the Captain. He never did tell him, and suddenly everything is here, out in the open, and he has no idea what to say. His companion is no fool. It will take him only a moment to figure out what the bandages are there for, and then what will he say? What will he do?
Oh, he won't abandon him, Tintin is certain of that. But is Haddock going to stay with him once he's safe and cared for?
"C- Captain, I can explain..." He tries, his voice embarrassingly weak. It isn't like him, and it makes him feel terribly small all of a sudden. It doesn't matter to his great pride that it's only because of the injury he's just sustained.
"Shh." Captain Haddock gently pulls the sleeve down from Tintin's wounded arm, baring his skin and the bloody, ugly wound. He doesn't say a word as he tends to it, examines and cleans and dresses it.
Tintin does not like the silence, but he can't bring himself to break it, either. He entrusts himself completely to the Captain, all the while worrying about how the sailor will react later on.
Always dutiful, forever loyal, Captain Haddock takes care of Tintin, gets him back to the village and right to a doctor. There's a good clinic here, with physicians trained in the city to take the best possible care of their neighbors here at home.
Tintin pulls through just fine, like always. He's lucky; the muscle wasn't too badly torn, and with care his arm is going to be fully useable again soon. He doesn't feel lucky, with the pain thrumming the way it is, and the grim, contemplative look that Captain Haddock has had on his face for hours now.
It's almost dark out before Tintin finally gets a chance to speak to the sailor alone, but when that chance finally comes, he finds that as long as he's been waiting for it, he isn't sure what to say.
Fortunately, Captain Haddock seems to have been waiting for this just as well, and he starts the conversation.
"So, you're a lass then?" He asks, but it's really more of a statement. He saw the bandage. He knows Tintin's body isn't quite the way the youth would like it to be. And he could only draw one conclusion from it. "Why... why did you never tell me the truth? After all we've been through, Tintin, I would have hoped you could trust me a little more than this."
Tintin sniffs, proud even despite the way he's feared this. "I never lied; I am a lad."
Captain Haddock is looking right at him, his deep blue eyes focused and serious. "Tintin, I saw you back there. You've wee little... little bosoms." He gestures at his own chest to illustrate. He's had plenty of time to get over the initial shock, but this has still got him all off-kilter.
"I know that, Captain." Tintin says quietly. "But I'm not a lass."
Haddock looks confused, but not dismissive; trusting that there is a reason in Tintin's words, his logic. "I'm sorry? How does that work, then? You being a lad with bosoms and all?"
Tintin is reluctant to meet the Captain's eyes, but he does it anyway. "I know it sounds strange," he explains, "but even though I have a female body, I am a man all the same. I just... Well, I just am. I've always known it, ever since I just a small child- and nobody ever thought to question me about it back then. When I got older, I started binding my chest, because people might think I'm a girl and, and that there's something wrong with me. But Captain..." He pauses, chooses his words. "I'm not a girl, and I don't believe that there is anything wrong with me either. I just hope that you understand that."
"Ahh..." Captain Haddock does seem to understand. He'd travelled just as far as Tintin, likely even farther, so maybe he had encountered this sort of thing before, or at least heard of it. Tintin never had, except in his own case. The sailor is silent for a minute or so, letting it all sink in, before finally he says, "I just wish you'd trusted me enough to tell me, lad. Maybe it isn't my business, but I do wish you had."
At first Tintin looks duly remorseful, but he lights up as he hears Haddock call him "lad" again.
"Tintin, I've certainly got no place to be judging you." Captain Haddock goes on. "And I hope you know that I could never think any less of you, especially for something as silly as all that. I might not exactly understand it all but, well, it still doesn't change who you are."
"Oh, Captain, thank you." Tintin is so overwhelmed by the Captain's response that it comes out as little more than a whisper. If his shoulder didn't hurt so badly, he thinks he would just have to get up and throw his arms around the sailor. Normally he'd be too reserved for that anyway, but there's nothing normal about this occasion.
Captain Haddock narrows his eyes at the youth. "But make no mistake, I am still cross with you for not telling me." He says.
Tintin laughs, so relieved and glad that he can't contain it all. "Trust me, I know, Captain. And you have every right to be."
"I know," Haddock answers, a smile crossing his face despite everything. It's so genuine, so accepting, and suddenly Tintin feels like a great weight has been taken off his shoulders. It is liberating.