Reflections in Soda Water

by Rose Blood Cat

Seaspray is familiar, but he's never been to sea. He has no magic, but countering it is easy. He's never been taught how to lead, but he easily gets people to fall in line. He's not afraid of danger. He has more common sense than the whole of the school combined, and no fear of using it. Cab Sturge is a strange student, who has more going on than even he knows.

2. Dreams of Forgotten Seas

An: Whee~ Another chapter of this lark, but this time some foreshadowing of the past events. (Pastshadowing?) A teeny-tiny look at the connection between Captain Caviar and Cab. Your theories are welcome. As well as any rage over what you think might have happened. :3

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Cab has always seen the sea in his dreams.

In some dreams, he's surrounded by battle. Blurred faces shouting and fighting, gunshots and clashing swords echo through the air. His chest full of adrenaline and determination and excitement. And the instinctive knowledge that the people he fights with will have his back. That they'll cover his failings and he'll cover theirs. They are his crew and he is their cAPtaIn, and they work together like a well-oiled engine.

They are fierce and strong and reliable and so is he. And it's a wonderful high that follows him to the waking world.

In other dreams, his feet stand on mighty ships and he's surrounded by people with blurred faces singing shanties as they work on the decks. As they follow drills and tend to the powerful ship in their care. Surrounded by camaraderie as strong as the chains of an anchor steadying a ship on the seas. It feels right in a way he can never explain.

They're all good dreams where he wakes feeling strong and unstoppable.

(Even with the faint ache in his chest when he wakes in his lonely bedroom, on solid earth instead of on a ship at sea. Even before he woke to a shabby, ill-cared-for ceiling and had to attend a school for the kids of kids high-rolling people that he'd never be around normally.)

But the dreams he hates are the ones that start with that peaceful camaraderie but then it changes.

Voices are talking, casual and relaxed. There's a stein of something in his hand (he doesn't know what) as he looks out at the deck and the distant sunset. It's calm and peaceful and there's a feeling of pride resting inside him. This is a good day.

Then the ship under his feet lurches in a way that doesn't feel natural.

Something is wrong.

He shouts and the crew starts to move, reacting to the same feeling he has. Then the sky c r a c k s and everything turns wrong, wrong, wrong and there's a soul-deep, instinctive panic inside him and he turns to yell for hIs crew and-

He wakes when he hits the floor, hard, tangled in bedding and a scream trapped in his throat as he desperately gasps for breath.

He wants to race out and find HiS cREw and make sure they're alright. Ensure they're safe.

But he knows they aren't there.

Instead, he forces himself to stay still and listen to the sounds of the night. To listen to what's outside, to listen to the breathing of the people sleeping nearby (if there are any), until his heart rate slows and the urge to scream and run and fight fades.

It takes a long time for him to calm down enough to sleep again, and the lack of sleep can be seen by those who look close enough.

He wishes he knew what they meant and what gave him those dreams.

If only to give him some peace.