Note: I love it when I'm 600 words in before I get the main characters in the same place. Make that 900.
What if? Booth was shipwrecked
AU? Yes
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Booth hugged his mother goodbye and climbed aboard the ship. He knew that leaving his mother and brother behind to dig for diamonds in Africa was a gamble, but it was one he was ready to take. If he was lucky and worked hard, he'd be rich enough to buy them their own house, one where the nights were free of the sound of breaking glass or the thud of a fist.
He planned to work hard, and he hoped to be lucky.
He made his way below decks to the steerage quarters. In the corner, he could see the figure of a duck taking shape beneath an older man's knife. Half way down the row of beds, two young men were playing cards for toothpicks, while across the way a young woman soothed a fretful baby. Booth slung his bedding roll and his bag onto an open upper bunk and hopped up after it. He unrolled the bedding and lay back, resting his head on his pack.
There were shouts from up on deck, and the ship began to move.
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The days in steerage consisted of cooking his food and spending as much time as possible on the deck, soaking up the fresh air.
He'd seen the sea before, but never had he felt as insignificant as he did on that deck, with no land visible in any direction and only an occasional ship in the distance to remind him that there was more to the world than the cramped, stuffy quarters of the ship.
After a while, the days seemed to blur together, the only difference the increasingly-warm air on deck, until one day, he woke to the clack of a hatchway being shut. The ship rocking more than usual, and he rushed to the remaining open hatchway, to find a crew member preparing to close it as well. He slipped through and climbed on the violently rolling deck.
The storm was fierce, with heavy rain and powerful winds that seemed to pluck the ship from the waves, only to drop it down again. The crew were all occupied, and he stayed out of the way as best he could.
He heard shouts, and the ship began to turn just a little too late. The waves tossed them into the rocks, and there was a thud and a groan as the ship began to list. The captain was shouting orders, and the crew began to lower the lifeboats.
They probably would have succeeded if a huge wave hadn't hit, knocking the ship further into the rocks and tearing a huge hole in the side. Booth found himself falling, somehow managing to land cleanly into the sea. He swam away from the sinking ship, wanting nothing more than to avoid being pulled under when it inevitably sank.
It was almost impossible to keep afloat but he kept going, the screams of his fellow passengers ringing in his ears. He couldn't help them. He could barely help himself.
He swallowed a mouthful of salt water as yet another wave broke over his head. As he struggled back to the surface, a broken plank hit him in the head, and he grabbed for it gratefully. He clung to the plank, struggling to keep going as the waves pushed him to and fro, hoping he wouldn't be dashed against rocks he couldn't see, until the storm finally broke.
When it did, he was able to make out some land, not too far away. He began to swim.
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What seemed like hours later, Booth collapsed on the sand, the waves tickling his feet. It was a beautiful day, and the only sign of the tragic shipwreck was the debris floating on the waves. He rested until he could feel the sun start to burn, then struggled to his feet and made his way further onto shore.
A wall of shrubs grew a few feet from the sandy shore, and it didn't take long before he was surrounded by cool forest, thick enough to allow only a little light to penetrate the lush canopy. He sat down, his back to a tree, listening to the birds calling overhead and occasionally seeing a blur as some exotic bird flew by.
It was a relief to be out of the scorching sunlight, but the sun wasn't his only enemy. He needed water. With a sigh, he stood up and started to move.
He walked through the forest for what seemed like hours, finally stumbling across a small stream. The muddy bank was cool under his knees as he drank gratefully from the life-giving stream. When he had quenched his thirst, he built a simple bed not far from the water.
The sun was setting, so he settled onto his makeshift bed and fell asleep.
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The birds were calling when he woke. Some more water temporarily kept the hunger at bay, but he knew he needed to find food. He found a sharp rock and made his way back to the beach nearest the shipwreck, marking the trees along the way.
The waves had carried in some boards from the ship, as well as a crate length of salt-stained, soggy fabric. He carried them further inland so that the tide wouldn't carry them out to sea and then picked up as many boards as he could carry and followed the marked trees back to his camp. He made a second trip, then began his search for something to eat.
The sun was directly above him when he found a bush covered in juicy, colorful berries. He picked a few and raised his hand to his mouth, when he heard a shout. A second later the berries went flying as he was tackled to the ground.
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Brennan hadn't seen another living person since her father had died six hundred and seven days before. The first three hundred and twenty nine days, Max had been there with her. He had been the one who had been careless enough to get caught stealing on the Emma May and she'd been angry at him when they'd been set adrift in one of the lifeboats, but learning to survive had taken the heat out of her anger. By the time he caught the fever that killed him, she had long since forgiven him.
Once he died, she'd expected to live out the rest of her life alone. The island was out of the way of the usual shipping lanes, and the rocks that guarded the harbor made it unlikely that any ships that wandered off course would stop.
It wasn't a bad life – she had a plentiful supply of fresh water, and she'd learned what plants were edible. The climate was fine, and there were hundreds of birds for her to study. Still, there were times when she missed having someone to talk to.
She was shocked when she walked down the path toward the stream and saw a man, and alarmed when she saw that he was about to eat a handful of the deadliest berries on the island.
She started to run.
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Brennan sat by the fire, occasionally sneaking a glance at the man sitting beside her.
They'd spent the last few days gathering more supplies that had floated in on the tide, and foraging for food and firewood in the forest. She was used to being on her own, and working together had been strange. Not bad, just unusual.
Invigorating, even.
It was nice, having someone around.
It was even nicer having someone who she liked so much. They'd spent most of the past few days talking. He'd told her about his dreams of riches, and his family back home. She'd told him about her father and the years she'd spent on the island. She'd told him about her childhood – about her brother, who'd gone west to make his fortune, and her mother, who'd died of an infection when Brennan was 15. She'd even told him that her parents had been outlaws, and that her father's thievery had been the reason they had been cast adrift to die on the cruel sea, only finding the island by chance.
He was easy to talk to.
The fire burned down to coals, and she reluctantly stood. He followed, and they climbed into her shelter,. It was a beautiful night, and they could see the stars from their beds.
"There's Orion", she said.
He propped himself up on his elbows. "Where?"
She pointed at three stars in a line. "That's his belt. And if you look, you can see his shoulders there, and the bottom of his tunic there."
"I think I see it", Booth answered.
They settled back into their beds, but Brennan wasn't even a little tired. "Once, when I was a girl", she said, "I read a story about a man who was shipwrecked on an island. It sounded so dramatic. My brother and I used to plan what we'd do if we were ever shipwrecked. We had all of these crazy ideas about how we'd find food and shelter and we'd be happy living on a desert island."
Booth looked up at the woven vines and branches overhead. "They couldn't have been too crazy. You've done well. And if it wasn't for you, I'd be dead."
"I don't know", she laughed. "We thought we'd have all these supplies with us, as if we'd know we were going to be shipwrecked in advance. I never thought I'd be thrown off a ship with nothing but the clothes I was wearing. We were lucky that Max had a knife in his pocket."
They lay in silence for a while, then Booth said, "All I dreamed about was growing up. Getting my own place – a place where my mom and my brother and I could live. My dad … he wasn't easy to live with."
"I'm sorry", she answered.
"It's OK. I mean, it's not, but it wasn't your fault. But Bren?"He rolled onto his side so they were facing each other. "This may not be what you dreamed about as a kid, but I'm glad you're here with me."
"I'm glad you're here with me, too", she replied, and savored his answering grin.
He flopped back onto his back. "Go to sleep, Bren. Tomorrow's another day."
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Thoughts?