HUD: :)
Anthony had to pry his eyes away from Loki; the captain's gaze was so promising and full of intent that it frightened him. He glanced again out at the world beyond, at the shipyard and the shores of Havana. He could still feel Loki behind him with a presence so sure that Anthony felt with sudden clarity that he always would be there. Anthony wanted to lean the last space between them and rest against Loki, as he had the night and day before. He selfishly regretted Loki's care and attention while he had been ill; he doubted he'd be graced with it again so soon.
"After your shore leave," Anthony heard, turning slightly again. Loki wasn't looking at him this time, but at the island beyond. "I shall show you the ropes, so to speak. I believe that in a week's time or less, you shall be able to scramble to the crow's nest without assistance."
Loki smiled that soft smile and looked upon Anthony again. "How does that sound, my lord?"
"Wonderful," Anthony breathed, and wasn't at all surprised to find that he meant it. The thought of him being able to scurry up the rigging at his own will was staggering, and Anthony was reminded again at how much freedom he actually had. How much the captain had already taken to him.
Anthony's belly burned hot with renewed guilt - thinking about his shore leave with Goldie reminded him of his letter to his sister. He had to tell Loki. The captain, he was learning, couldn't be nearly as terrible as the tales said. He was kind, forgiving, and apart from Grim and Gibbs, in quite well with his crew. Almost better than Jack had been aboard the Cavalier. Best of all, Loki was so careful with Anthony, who, in all terms and relevancy, was a quite literal stranger. It bothered Anthony to think about how little Loki really knew of him, how much he had been keeping to himself for his own protection. Secrets he kept, but Loki seemed willing to give them freely; however, Anthony felt that if he hinted around, no one other than himself and Goldie would know of the captain's abilities.
Swallowing his nerves, Anthony decided to confide. He remembered Goldie's warning, about all the betrayal Loki had suffered over time, and Anthony felt he did not want to add to it.
He shifted until he was facing Loki, catching the captain's attention again. "Loki, there's something I must ask you - "
"Oi, Cap'n!" Loki turned his eyes from Anthony with slight annoyance. He sighed and took a step closer to the edge of the planks they stood on.
"What?" He hollered, his tone not hinting at all to the annoyance clearly writ upon his features. Anthony grinned.
"Shore leave!" Anthony felt like it may have been Goldie, but the wind decided then to pick up and drown out what little he could hear.
Loki's shoulders dipped a fraction, the grip he had on a rope tightening. "Fine; in a moment!"
"Wot?" The voice shouted.
"In a moment!" Loki snapped. Whatever the man on deck did made Loki sigh again. He emphatically waved a hand then pointed his palm down in a Wait! fashion, making Anthony's grin spread.
When Loki turned to him, his expression was pinched but fond. "Bloody pirates; they can be rather impatient."
Anthony chuckled. "So I've gathered."
The sound made Loki's expression soften. "What did you wish to ask me, my lord?"
Anthony's grin fell slightly. "I - " Have a sister that's probably dying from despair at not hearing from me. "Are you coming ashore today, with Goldie and I?"
Loki shook his head. "I am needed here. I shall meet you at shore to gather the supplies, but today you are under Goldie's care. Will that be alright?"
Anthony nodded. "Yes, Captain."
Loki smiled softly, and Anthony's belly churned with renewed guilt and something he couldn't quite name. The captain held his arm open in invitation. "Good; shall we prepare, then?"
Anthony nodded again and stepped into Loki's offered embrace. He had only a moment to enjoy it, the slight chill and comfort the other man's arm around him brought, before they were again touching down on the deck and Loki was stepping away.
The one calling had been Goldie, now ambling over to them. "Oi, took ye long 'nuff!"
Loki laughed. "Aye, the view was spectacular."
"Cert'nly," Goldie answered dryly, eyeing Anthony as he fought to hide a flush. The old man just grinned and waved him over. "C'm along, lad. Gather yer purse an' coin an' we be off!"
Anthony nodded and with a final look at Loki, set off below deck. He couldn't explain why he lied at the last moment; it had to be his nerves, but it didn't matter. Anthony was confident that he could give Goldie the slip at some point and drop off his letter to someone with the British Post. After he tied his leather pouch off on his belt, he fished his crumpled letter from beneath his mattress and folded it in half, tucking it this time between his belt and his abdomen. With his shirt properly tucked, he doubted even Loki would be able to tell something was off.
Once he was back on deck, Goldie and Loki were standing at the railing where they had dropped to a harpooning boat the day before. Anthony trotted over with a grin.
"I'm all set, Goldie," he announced, drawing their attention. Goldie turned, having his knapsack from the trip to Amora's cave over his shoulder, and grinned back.
"Aye!" Goldie answered, dropping a palm to his shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "Shippin' off now, lad. Be seein' ye, Cap'n."
Loki nodded as Goldie swung himself over the railing and dropped from view, leaving Loki and Anthony alone.
"Stay close to Goldie, my lord," Loki said, leaning his hip against the wood. "Havana is another place after the sun sets. Should you be separated, make your way to the shore. I will be watching."
Somehow, that made Anthony's guilt all the more palpable. Loki was...too kind. "Aye, Captain."
Loki nodded and offered a hand to help Anthony over the railing. "I shall see you soon, then."
"Yes," Anthony agreed, taking his chill hand and swinging himself around to follow Goldie down. For his third climb down the rope ladder, Anthony felt no more confident. The captain wasn't below him, keeping the damned thing steady, and Anthony realized with a start how much he was already missing Loki's calming presence. He swallowed and forced himself to climb until he could feel the small boat beneath him; once he was seated next to Goldie, the pirate escorting them kicked away from the hull of the Sleipnir and navigated the crowded waters toward shore. Anthony looked back until he couldn't see Loki anymore.
"Well!" Goldie exclaimed, dropping a hand to Anthony's shoulder. "Ye excited?"
Anthony forced a grin. "Aye! Mainly to shave off this beard, more than anything."
Goldie hooted a laugh. "Aye, aye; ye be lookin' a bit gruff."
"Aye," Anthony answered sourly, making Goldie laugh again.
"Well, first order o' business'll be yer face, 'en supplies, 'en mor' clothes fer ye," Goldie continued. "Cap'n 'pects us back lil' aft sundown. Won't be a pro'lem."
Anthony nodded. "I agree."
The pirate rowing for them was quiet for the entire trip, something Anthony found slightly odd. Even though he still hadn't met all of the crew, he knew them by face and this man wasn't very familiar; in fact, Anthony wasn't sure he'd seen him at all.
Regardless, Goldie hopped out and helped to brace the boat to a nearby palm tree with the man's help. He waved him off, explaining to meet back right before sundown. The man nodded and hobbled off towards the brothels just on the edge of the village.
Goldie set off opposite of him, more towards the markets the three of them had walked through the day before. Anthony kept close to Goldie as he did, keeping one eye on the shorter, older man, while he casually looked around for anyone he could slip his letter to. Goldie weaved them through the crowd like an expert, dodging women carrying bags or boxes of goods while children zipped around their feet and freed chickens being herded by scruffy dogs. Anthony came to an abrupt stop behind Goldie, nearly running into the man.
"'Ere, lad," Goldie said, motioning with his hand. There was an indoor barber, obviously a British-ran business with it's golden English lettering atop of wide swinging sign. "Go on in; ol' Goldie'll wait 'ere."
Anthony nodded and slipped inside, the interior cool after traveling in direct sunlight. A tall man with a trimmed mustache in a white apron was sweeping in the corner behind the two chairs before mirrors. Anthony suddenly felt quite self-conscious of his ragged appearance, having spent the entirety of three months now at sea. Regardless, he needed a damn shave and this man was going to give it to him.
"Good afternoon, barber," Anthony called. The man set aside his broom and looked over, a smile beneath his whiskers.
"Ahoy there, son! Come by for a shave?" The man asked, taking up a nearby towel and tossing it onto his shoulder.
Anthony nodded. "Aye, please. I have yet to perfect shaving at sea, sir."
That caused a laugh from the man, right from his belly. He was tall and lean, almost like Loki, but Anthony somehow doubted this man held the strength that Loki did.
"Come have a seat, then; the shave is three silver, and for an extra penny I can have a hot cloth ready as well," the barber offered as he gathered his tools.
Anthony sighed as he sank into the seat nearest the door. "You drive a hard bargain, barber, but one I will take."
The man chuckled again, now closer and gently nudging Anthony's head back and against the headrest. "Very good, sir."
Anthony almost drifted away while the barber worked; he allowed his head to be turned and coaxed by a gentle hand and the sure strokes of the straight razor, and it was so similar to home that Anthony could feel the prickle of tears behind his eyelids. When the warm towel was pressed against his throat and chin, Anthony didn't want to leave. He reluctantly paid the barber for his time and added an extra silver coin for his tip before thanking him and leaving to join Goldie again. Perhaps he'd be able to purchase his own kit while on shore, and possibly convince Loki to help him.
The idea of the ruthless pirate having a straight razor so close to his throat should have bothered Anthony, but instead it brought a comfort he hadn't been expecting. He supposed he hadn't been lying when he told Loki he trusted him.
Goldie gave a low whistle when he saw Anthony approaching. "Damn, Tony! Ye look like a new man!"
"I feel like it, Goldie," Anthony answered with a grin. He paused, smoothing his hands down his tunic. "D'you think, were I to purchase a kit, that either you or the captain would help me become accustomed to shaving at sea?"
Goldie smiled slyly at him. "Loki'll be 'appy to 'elp ye, Tony. Jus' ask 'im."
Anthony shuffled his boots lightly against the dirt path, ducking to hide the flush he felt coming. "I'll pick out a kit, then."
"Good idea, lad," Goldie said, slapping a hand on his shoulder. "C'mon, now! Time t' learn a t'ing or two."
Goldie motioned for Anthony to follow as they set off into the crowds again. Anthony looked around, eyes watching the natives bustle around. Goldie continued on his predetermined path with Anthony only a few paces behind until they moved under the awning of an outdoor market. Anthony's gaze shifted with obvious delight between all the different wares, marveling at how alike everything was to Italy.
Thinking of his home made him think of his sister, then the letter folded in his waistband. If there were ever a time, the weaves of the market would be it. Anthony stood beside Goldie, peering over the old man's shoulder. "What are you bargaining for?"
Goldie turned slightly, his gold teeth dim without the sun to light them. "'Ere be cloth fer th' men, fer wound dressin'. Aft' recent journeys, there be less than wantin'." Goldie motioned to get the stall hand's attention. Once he had it, he dropped his hands to the spools of white cloth on the edge of the table and began speaking in Spanish. Anthony just blinked, willing away his surprise. He should have expected as such, given that Goldie apparently handled the ordering for the entire ship, no doubt no matter where they landed.
Anthony was able to pick up a few words thanks to his Italian, slightly surprised to find that the languages held similarities. Latin based, he reminded himself.
Goldie fished about in his sack and produced payment before speaking rapidly again and turning away without any cloth. Anthony narrowed his eyes in confusion.
"You seem to be lacking for your payment, Goldie," he murmured, keeping his voice low between them.
Goldie hummed. "Not at all, lad. Thar t' drop th' goods at th' shore at sundown. Right 'round when Charlie'll be done at th' whorehouse."
The answer made Anthony flush darkly, something that Goldie didn't see as he eyed the next few stalls. "We need t' order food, now, Tony. Look fer yerself, too; boots an' clothes an' th' like."
Anthony nodded and kept up, listening with interest as Goldie spoke to an Englishman about salted pork. They bickered between themselves as Anthony eyed what looked like small bananas nearby. They were plantains, he realized, and briefly remembered having them on his father's plantation. They were sweeter than their larger cousins, and Anthony wondered if Loki would want a few. As Goldie continued his conversation, Anthony stepped over and eyed the fruit.
"Hullo, sir," a voice greeted, cheerily. Anthony smiled up at the girl behind the stall, her dark hair pulled up beneath a kerchief the same colour as the fruit she sold. "Are you a sailor?"
Her eyes were almond shaped and as dark as her hair, but brightened when Anthony nodded. She was very obviously Cuban, but there wasn't much of a Spanish influence in her tone. "My father is a sailor for His Royal Majesty; just set out this morn'!"
Anthony smiled at her despite the flip his belly gave. "You must be proud."
She nodded eagerly. "I am! His first tour, actually. Mama was sad, but he promised to be back soon."
Anthony kept his smile in place - her hope was admirable, but he knew what happened at sea. He hoped that her father wouldn't happen upon pirates, and if he did, he prayed it would be painless. She was obviously sweet, smiling at him as he felt the blood rush too quickly in his ears, and she didn't deserve the life of her father possibly taken from her.
"I'm sure he will be, m'lady," Anthony answered. A surprised flush crept up her tan face, making Anthony's smile more genuine. She looked suddenly younger, and Anthony realized she might actually be younger than he.
"How old are you?" He heard himself ask. As the girl opened her mouth to answer, a slim older woman moved aside a few crates of fruit behind her and stepped around to stand beside the young girl.
"Charlotte!" She said, drawing the girl's attention with a smile.
"Mama!" She answered, throwing her arms around the woman looking over her head at Anthony. She murmured something in Spanish to Charlotte and the girl's arms fell away.
"How may we help you?" Charlotte's mother asked, her hands tucked into the pockets of the brown dress she wore. Her accent was heavy but Anthony had practice.
"Ah, three plantains, please," he requested, plucking coin from his purse after she gave him the price. Once he had his fruit in hand he smiled at Charlotte and her mother.
"Thank you, ladies," he said with a slight bow; he noticed Goldie ambling up to him and turned towards him.
"Oi, Tony! Ye should be payin' 'tention, lad!" Goldie huffed, accepting the fruit Anthony offered as an apology.
"Sorry, Goldie; these caught my eye, and I thought the Captain - " Goldie's expression softened as he put the fruit into his knapsack.
"Aye, lad; come 'long, then." Goldie nodded at the women still watching them and grabbed Anthony's shoulder. Anthony offered a wave as he was pulled away, smiling when Charlotte and her mother waved back.
Anthony had little time to dwell on thinking about his new friend - Goldie drug him from stall to stall, pointing out needs for the ship or crew and walking him through how to order in bulk and have it delivered without spending too much of their budget. Anthony kept his attention on his tasks, deviating only when he found something of interest for himself. He purchased another set of boots and a few more changes of clothing, feeling more than slightly spoiled when he knew that the other members of the crew probably wore the same thing day in and day out. Still, Anthony wanted to keep some level of comfort for himself while at sea. He even was able to find a decent shaving kit with Goldie's help, adding it to the order to be dropped on shore with several barrels of biscuits and fresh water.
The sun was beginning to dip low over the horizon, skimming bright colours across the sky and orange sunlight through the market. Goldie and Anthony had paused to eat their share of the fruit Anthony purchased from Charlotte, and now tossed the peels into a nearby pigpen. "We 'ave one more stop, Tony."
Anthony nodded. "Alright. Where?"
"The bars, lad," Goldie said with a wink. "Gotta order th' lifeblood o' th' crew."
Anthony laughed once he realized what Goldie meant. "Rum?"
"Aye, lad. Rum."
Anthony followed behind Goldie and skimmed the crowds. There had been a suspicious lack of redcoats during their shore leave, making Anthony nervous. No doubt Goldie was just good at avoiding trouble, but Anthony still had a letter to deliver. He hoped that there would be guards at the bar - there should be, at least, what with all the sailors crawling around.
Goldie lead Anthony to an outdoor bar surrounded by worn tables and benches on their last legs, quite literally. He eyed the patrons, some falling off their seats while others clung to whatever they could to remain upright. There was a general jovial air, but Anthony still walked closer to Goldie than perhaps required.
"Tony," Goldie murmured, grabbed his forearm. "Ye stick close, 'ear?"
Anthony nodded. "Absolutely."
Goldie nodded and dropped his grip, setting officially into the bar proper. Beneath the main awning of the shack was a gruff older man with a thick beard and arms as thick as barrels, shouting at a drunk to get out before he had to offer his help. The drunk stumbled off, slamming into a pillar on his way; Goldie grinned as the barkeep looked at them, his demeanor changing immediately.
"Goldie, ya old man!" He announced loudly with a guffaw. "Yer still kickin' I see!"
"Aye, James! Ye kno' it be hard t' get rid o' ol' Goldie!" Goldie answered, moving closer to the wooden bar. Anthony trailed behind him.
"T' what do I owe this pleasure?" James asked. Goldie pulled himself up onto a stool and motioned at Anthony to join him.
"Th' usual, James," Goldie said as Anthony sat to his right. "An' train' a new recruit."
"That Cap'n o' yers takin' a new crew?" James asked as he poured two mugs and slid one to Goldie.
Goldie shook his head. "Nay, jus' 'is lad." He gestured to Anthony.
James looked at Anthony for the first time, and Anthony got the distinct feeling he was being appraised. "Aye, I see. He's a bit scrawny, Goldie."
Anthony felt a frown twist his lips, even as Goldie laughed. "Fer now! 'E's a good lad, James. 'E'll grow into it."
Anthony wanted to ask what Goldie meant but decided to just wait until there wasn't an audience. James laughed with Goldie and together they took a drink from their mugs. Anthony looked around the bar at the other patrons as Goldie continued with his conversation, now moving towards purchasing barrels of James' finest.
Anthony noticed a barmaid cleaning up a few tables feet away. Her hair was unusual for this part of the world, the brightest red Anthony had ever seen, swept back by a silver buckle. She was petite and pale, and Anthony imagined she was beautiful. She kept her back to him as she cleaned until James called out.
"Natalie!" She turned, and Anthony blinked. He'd been right. "C'mere, lass!"
"She new?" Anthony heard Goldie ask. He turned to see James nodded.
"Temporary, aye. She's jus' waitin' for someone to come through th' next few days. Says she just needs a little work; she can handle herself well an' is trustworthy, so she stays."
Anthony looked at the worn wood as she walked behind the bar. "Aye, James?" Her voice was slightly raspy but lovely and Anthony looked up to see green eyes shift to him.
"Watch th' bar lass; I've got business to deal," James answered, gesturing to Goldie to come with him. Goldie turned to Anthony.
"Stay 'ere, Tony; be right back," he whispered, waiting until Anthony nodded. He slid from the stool after putting a hand on Anthony's shoulder to steady himself. Anthony watched until James and Goldie disappeared behind the back of the shack that must have been the bar's storeroom. He swallowed and turned to Natalie, who cleaned a few tin mugs before him.
"Ah, Natalie?" He asked, keeping his voice low. She looked up, her eyes sharp and questioning. Anthony felt his face heat - it was now or never. He had no idea how long Goldie would be gone. "May I ask a favour? I promise to pay you well for it."
Natalie set down the rag and mug she held and rested her hands on her hips. "I'm listening," she said after a moment.
Anthony breathed a sigh of relief. He pulled out the letter from hiding and smoothed it out on the bar. "I'm in a slight predicament, and I need to get this letter to Italy without anyone knowing. I cannot get away to find the post myself. Would you be able to do so for me? Please, it is very, very important that my sister gets this letter. I'm worried she thinks I'm dead."
Anthony watched Natalie's face shift from guarded to pity at the mention of his sister. She looked around the way Goldie and James went before quickly motioning to the letter. Anthony smiled and passed it over. "How much?"
Natalie shook her head. "I'll do it for free, lad. It's the least I can do."
Anthony nodded, feeling his eyes prickle with unshed tears. Finally, he could get word to his sister. He hoped she hadn't worried for too long. "Thank you. At least let me tip you, for your work."
Natalie shrugged but accepted the coin Anthony put on the bar. She looked behind him, then, her eyes narrowing slightly. "We don't serve your kind here, sir."
Anthony frowned but turned to see the man Goldie called Charlie standing behind him. His blond hair was obviously rucked over and his clothes disheveled; the rouge on his neck reminded Anthony of where he had been and what that mark meant. He felt heat steal up his neck as Charlie leered at Natalie.
"I bet a barmaid like you would turn coin faster if you did," he answered, and Anthony shook his head. He watched Natalie's hand clench into a fist and remembered James saying she could handle herself. No doubt he meant against fools like Charlie. She tucked Anthony's letter away in her apron before taking up her rag again. "How about you do us both a favour and leave before I make you."
Charlie held his hands up with a smirk; the motion carried the perfume still clinging to him over to Anthony and made his eyes water. "No need, lass. Just here for this lad." He looked down at Anthony. "Goldie sent me for you. Said to meet him at the shore; the barkeep is having him help with the barrels."
Anthony nodded, too eager to be back on the ship and away from the seedy bar. He turned back to Natalie and smiled. "Thank you, again. Take care."
"You, too," she answered with a small smile of her own.
Anthony nodded again, his heart feeling lighter than it had been in ages. He was glad to be able to get his letter out, and hopefully James had been truthful about Natalie being trustworthy. No part of her demeanor made Anthony feel less about her; he simply had to believe.
Charlie walked them out of the bar and back to the dirt paths of Havana. He drifted between the brick and wood housing and buildings listlessly, as if he weren't in any kind of hurry whatsoever. Anthony kept close behind him to not become lost.
"Charlie, is your name, yes?" Anthony asked after a few minutes of silence passed.
"Aye," Charlie answered. Anthony waited, expecting more conversation, but Charlie offered little in the way of companionship. Even Gibbs spoke more to him.
"I don't believe I've met you before," Anthony pressed. He was beginning to feel uneasy; the sun was setting faster and faster, the shadows of Havana stretching into dark and twisted shapes.
Havana can be quite dangerous without the sun's guidance, Loki had warned. Anthony was beginning to feel it.
"Spend a lot of time in the nest," Charlie answered flippantly. Anthony nodded to himself and made a vague sound of agreeance. Even after the day Charlie obviously had he didn't seem to want to speak; no man Anthony had ever met kept quiet about his conquests, but Charlie seemed to be a man of few words. Anthony hadn't enjoyed the way he spoke to Natalie, but Charlie was also a pirate, and even being one of Loki's crew, couldn't be entirely chaste. He had Gibbs and Grim as examples to that clause.
The foliage was beginning to thicken and Anthony stumbled slightly over roots he couldn't see. He swallowed. Something was wrong.
"Ah, Charlie?" Anthony said as casually as he could. He hoped his fear wasn't too palpable. "Where did Goldie say we were meeting him?"
"Shore."
"Right, and this doesn't look like the shore."
Charlie just shrugged. Anthony stopped; Charlie stopped.
"Where's Goldie?" Anthony asked, his hands clenching by his sides. Charlie just stared at him, his head tilted oddly to the side. When he didn't answer, Anthony swallowed.
"You never spoke to Goldie." Charlie's light sigh sent Anthony's panic into overdrive.
"Nah." Suddenly, Charlie was in his space with a speed that was almost frightening. Anthony took a quick step back to avoid Charlie as best as possible but the limited lighting and Charlie's inhuman reflexes prevented him from getting more than a foot away. Charlie wrapped a firm hand around Anthony's bicep and tightened his grip.
"The old man's prolly lookin' for you now," Charlie said by way of answer, and the finality of his tone made a tremor of dread race through Anthony. "Gotta hurry, now."
He began to pull, but Anthony dug the heels of his boots into the dirt beneath him and pulled at Charlie's grip. It was painful, but Anthony imagined he would accept that over whatever Charlie seemed to have planned.
Charlie stopped pulling, and Anthony felt a glimmer of hope surge through him briefly before he heard rather than saw Charlie shift his stance and stand behind Anthony, his hand now on his shoulder and also pressing a blade to the nape of Anthony's neck.
Anthony froze.
"Now, listen," Charlie murmured, his breath hot on Anthony's neck. "Move or I'll make you, and neither of us wants that, lad. Understood?" Anthony gave a weak nod. "Excellent. Move."
Anthony carefully picked his way through the foliage he could see, the sun now leaving all the green coated in a fiery blaze. A lump developed in his throat as anger and helplessness coursed through him; once again, he was being held against his will for simply being. By a member of Loki's crew, no less! Loki swore no harm would come of him, yet here he was being led by knife through an uninhabited portion of Havana towards an ending he couldn't fathom. Perhaps sending that letter to his sister had been too presumptuous. Perhaps he would die now, in the next few minutes or hours, and no one would find him. Not even Loki, with all his secrets and lore of voodoo that Anthony wasn't too sure was actually just a myth, could save him.
Anthony purposely tripped up to stall, hoping to get Charlie to slip. He never did, the man's grip infallible and his patience too great as he kept Anthony on their slow-moving path. There was a break in the trees and brush, and Anthony risked a glance around him. The sea was stretched out to his right, but still so far that he couldn't make out anything along the shore. He could see Sleipnir in all her dark glory, knowing that Loki was aboard and none the wiser. He wondered if Goldie had figured out what happened, if he had made it to the ship to alert his Captain. Anthony doubted it; it had taken them the better of perhaps twenty minutes to get as far as they had, and it took almost double that to get back to the ship from as far inland and he and Goldie had been. Even if Loki were already ashore, too much time had passed.
A rough jerk pulled his attention to an abandoned shack encompassed by fat and dark palm leaves. Charlie steered him right to it and didn't stop until they were outside the rotted door.
"Oi!" Charlie called, and Anthony felt his heart sink as the door swung inward and he was faced with the dirty grinning mugs of Gibbs and Grim.
"Took ye long 'nuff, Charlie!" Gibbs rumbled, stepping down and grabbing Anthony from Charlie. Anthony resisted until Gibbs punched him in his gut, taking advantage of his lost balance and pushing him at Grim. Anthony tripped over the threshold of the shack and landed hard on his palms and knees. He hissed, feeling splinters and rotting wood break his skin.
"Was waitin' on Goldie to step away," Charlie answered. "Old man watches him like a hawk."
"Tha' be 'cos we 'ave the Cap'n's pride 'ere," Grim answered. He squatted down as Anthony tried to push himself up, and grabbed his collar roughly to pull until Anthony was better hidden within the shack.
"Speaking of," Charlie prompted; Anthony watched his posture shift from the lazy slouch he was accustomed with to a more alert position. "What're you two gonna do? Once the Captain finds out, he'll raise hell, and I'm not gonna stick around for it."
Gibbs and Grim exchanged a glance before Gibbs shrugged. "Won't matter, Charlie."
"Why's at?"
"'Cos we'll 'ave damned redcoat dogs on 'im 'fore dawn."
Anthony felt his very blood freeze. Gibbs and Grim were willingly betraying Loki? He knew they had their aversions with the pirate captain, but not enough to jeopardize their entire crew, their livelihood. Were Loki to be discovered, he would be hung, and all his crew with him. Everyone, Goldie even with his obvious age, and Gibbs and Grim would be totted as heroes for turning in one of the most feared pirates of their time. Anthony worked his throat to try and wet it, to free the lump there and maybe - Gibbs had his back to him and Grim was overly confident as he leaned against the jam of the door that Anthony could dislodge him. He could throw Grim off balance before Gibbs could turn and all he had to do was avoid Charlie and run. He could do it; he could run and get to shore and warn Loki about their betrayal - oh, how Anthony hated that word. Goldie had warned him before, about all the pain Loki had endured because of it, and now it stared Anthony square in the face with three sets of eyes and a knife.
He could do it.
He would do it.
Charlie rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I was worried you'd say that."
Anthony held his breath, feeling the air between Gibbs and Grim become uncertain. "Wot?" Grim prompted.
"Was worried you'd say that," Charlie repeated. He shrugged. "And here I thought I was hard of hearing."
Then, Anthony realized he didn't have to do anything. Charlie grabbed Gibbs and cracked his skull against his knee, knocking the man out cold. Before Grim could even react, Charlie had his arm around his neck with his oddly intense reflexes and twisted. There was a sickening crack, and Grim fell away lifelessly; Gibbs was still breathing, Anthony noticed, as Charlie turned to him. Perhaps he would pay him the same courtesy as he had Gibbs, and just leave him facedown in a ditch but alive.
Anthony scrambled to his feet as Charlie grabbed his shirt, fisting the fabric tightly. It pressed against his throat and prompted him to gasp. "What're you - "
"Nothin' personal, lad," Charlie muttered, and Anthony blinked as something akin to pity flittered across Charlie's eyes before he flipped the knife in his hand hilt out and slammed it against Anthony's temple.
A/N: Promise there won't be so long between updates again. :) Share your thoughts!