Chapter Text
The time after they'd left was okay, for the most part. After they'd exited the docks, and it'd become only a mere spec in the horizon, Ode had finally calmed down, probably having had enough of all the excitement for one day.
The Sea Captain was already feeling the exhaustion tugging at his eyelids, so with how excitable the other man had been all morning it wouldn't be a surprise if he was taking a rest whilst the Sea Captain steered the ship. It was a relief on his stress levels, at least, not to have an energetic man bounding around the deck like a dog–or, well, doing whatever it is he usually likes to do. The Sea Captain still knows very little about who he is other than the fact that his name is ‘Ode’ and he has a weird affinity for submarines, so what he does in his pastime is information far beyond his reach, and if the Sea Captain's being honest, it's not anything he cares enough to to try and reach for in the first place.
Their time together is spent in silence, which is how the Sea Captain always likes it. Whenever he has passengers, he never speaks much, and now he at least has an excuse not to since Ode neither understands him nor enough words to form a full sentence to try and talk to him.
He's kept company by the one true companion he truly enjoys; the sea, and the soft ocean breeze whistling past him.
Half an hour passes by this way, and the Sea Captain almost forgot that he even had someone else on board until a crash sounds out from somewhere behind him. He only just stops himself from flinching, hands tightening on the wheel and head whipping behind him to get a good look at whatever Ode's gotten himself into.
It's somewhat like dealing with a toddler, despite never having looked after one himself. He can only imagine how bad it is, and how Ode is probably worse to look after because not only is he just as, maybe even more, childish and unpredictable, he's bigger than the Sea Captain by quite a lot and can't be stopped no matter how hard the Sea Captain tries.
The Sea Captain half turns back to the wheel, eyes flickering between the foggy waters and the mess not too far away from where he's standing. He kicks a shard of porcelain a small distance away, following the trail of broken bits and pieces with his eyes until they land on the source of the destruction.
Ode stands there shamefully, head bowed and a quarter of one of the Sea Captain's favourite plates being dwarfed in both his hands. He holds it delicately, like he's worried if he loosens his grip any he'll contribute more to the mess with the remnants of his apparent tirade just a moment ago.
The Sea Captain sighs, and watches as Ode stares up at him through his eyelashes, gnawing on his bottom lip and shoulders hiking up to his ears.
The sight would be funny if the Sea Captain weren't too busy mourning the untimely death of the cute little sea-themed plate, how Ode so resembles a child waiting to be punished when they know they've done wrong. The plate was a gift from his father, from a Christmas a few years back when they decided that year to give each other joke gifts, the Sea Captain getting the Oarsman a mug with some cheesy one liner, and he can still see the colourful depiction of a small rowboat on one of the shards when he directs his attention back to the floor.
“Ode, what the hell?” He faces back to the wheel, letting his tone of voice convey his anger the best he can while he still has to watch over where they're going. There's no response, of course, except for some shuffling behind him. Footsteps carefully tread a little closer, slower than Ode's usual long strides as he assumes he's doing his best to avoid the shards scattered all over.
“Plate.” Ode's voice has lost all sense of excitement or resonance, a quiet murmur that'd pull at the Sea Captain's heartstrings if he hadn't already spent his whole life learning not to be affected in such a way. A heavy sigh behind him, and then there's the warmth of a hand hovering over his shoulder, unsure and hesitant. It doesn't cross the line to touch him. “Plate?”
The Sea Captain frowns, glancing back to Ode. “Yeah, not anymore it isn't. Broken, Ode. Broken plate.”
“Broken…”
“Exactly, now you get it.” He shakes his head, gesturing over to the mess while keeping his focus ahead. “I don't know what you were doing with it, but go clean this up.”
Silence. The Sea Captain rolls his eyes, and does the best impression he can of sweeping with a broom with only one hand. The blank look he gets from Ode draws a quiet snicker out of him, and the other man seems to relax in an instant, brightening up at the sound of it. He still stands near him warily, and the Sea Captain glances back at him, raising a brow, “What? Plate. Clean. It's simple.”
He taps gently against the last bit of the plate left in Ode's hands, his fingernail making a quiet sound as it makes contact. Ode's eyes follow the movement, watching with interest and another one of his grins slowly gracing his face, holding it preciously against his chest once the Sea Captain's hand returns back to the wheel, practically cradling the broken piece against himself.
He nods firmly, a determined fire lighting up in his eyes, “Plate. Clean.” In an instant, Ode is off sprinting to wherever he was before when he'd gone below deck.
“Hey-” The Sea Captain groans, shouting over his shoulder, “Ode! No..running…” Said man is already gone by the time he gets the words out, trailing off towards the end once he realises no one's there to listen to his reprimands. He huffs softly, turning back to the wheel and praying to himself that Ode actually knows where to find the broom.
A few minutes pass by in thankful silence once more, the only thing occupying him this time being his thoughts alone.
He's been doing okay steering the ship so far, but something is bothering him and he can't seem to make it go away no matter how self assured he is of his own skill at the wheel; the fog, whether it's the pure amount of it or the distraction it poses to his directing, is throwing him off more than he would've thought it would when he was had been planning this voyage.
Of course, he's not doing a bad job by any means, but he can't help but look out at the fog and feel lost, feel like he's got no sense of direction and he's risking not only his own life in the process of it. He has another life to take care of, protect and bring to his destination, and if he doesn't make that happen then he's not sure what to make of himself as a captain.
Footsteps return behind him, quick and heavy, coming to a sharp halt. Something wooden hits the floor, reverberating beneath his feet while he tries to ignore it and keep looking ahead. He can feel the grin aimed his way without even checking to see it, the soft panting from Ode only just far enough away not to be breathing down his neck.
“Plate, clean!” Voice booming, verging on thunderous with his fervour, Ode cheers when the Sea Captain tilts his head to look his way, proudly presenting the broom laying on the floor with a sweep of his arms. “Plate.” He then nods affirmingly, reaching down to grab the broom and, after staring at it shortly with a contemplative expression morphing onto his face, he begins swinging it wildly, flinging shards in every and all directions.
“Shit-” The Sea Captain flinches when one of the sharp pieces flies up and catches on his arm, leaving a clean cut along his skin. He lets out a breath, lifting up his uninjured arm to use as shelter. “Ode, stop.” He says it lowly, sternly, almost like he really is fulfilling the role as an unamused parent looking after the child of a man. Ode, too, is acting accordingly as he stops moving instantly and stands up straighter. The Sea Captain wipes the blood trickling down his arm, looking down at the shimmering red now coating the tip of his thumb, “I don't know what you think you're doing. Seriously.”
“Oh…” Ode mumbles, staring at his feet.
“I Just…I don't know.” He looks back at the water for a few seconds, making sure everything's okay, before putting his full attention onto the freshly scolded Ode, who's still avoiding his eyes. “Watch.” He moves a little closer, plucking the broom from his hands and giving it a few sweeps against the shards that are still there and not flung across the deck. Ode watches, wide eyed and mouth slightly agape, and after some time of watching he holds out his hands expectantly.
The Sea Captain frowns, glancing down at the cut on his arm still oozing, “You sure? You didn't even know how to sweep something up, and I'm a bit concerned…” His brows furrow, Ode's determination embarrassingly affecting him enough to actually consider it.
“Clean.”
The Sea Captain groans.
“Oh, fine, have it your way.” He too aggressively shoves the broom into Ode, spinning on his heel so he doesn't have to face the ecstatic expression he can feel being aimed his way; Ode's enthusiasm is so bright and pure he wouldn't be surprised if it's burning a hole into the back of his head.
Shockingly enough, it's a calm sort of quiet he's met with after that. All he can hear is Ode's humming–a tune he can't recognise–and the bristles sliding against the wooden floor and porcelain chips scraping one by one into a pile. Maybe he shouldn't have been too harsh on Ode, but it's hard to stay patient with someone who's reckless abandon can't be tempered by words that cannot be understood.
The humming stops, broken by a quiet grunt in which he assumes Ode is picking the shards up. At least that means he did it right this time, and the footsteps leading off to below deck feel like a success. His shoulders slump, with the Sea Captain partially hunched over the wheel. Despite the whole situation annoying him to no end, it feels kind of satisfactory knowing he got Ode to listen to him, even if only through miming out actions. Maybe it's because he's not used to being listened to by this guy, his only impression of him being the lack of following orders he's only managed to get out of him so far, but honestly, he has to say that listening to what he's told is quite a good colour on Ode.
And speaking of the devil, the man of the hour comes strutting up to his side, proud and flashy like he did something worthwhile that wasn't just cleaning up after himself. He brandishes his empty hands like a badge of honour, the shards nowhere to be seen. “Clean?” He says it more rhetorically, which isn't as obvious in the fact that he's saying a single word, yet his smug grin and sparkling eyes act as a barrier for the Sea Captain's snarky remark from slipping through.
“Yep, well done buddy.” He pats Ode on the shoulder absentmindedly, scanning his palms for any sign of a cut or scrape. They're bare from any injury, luckily, and the Sea Captain relaxes a little.
“Clean…” And then suddenly, Ode is there right by his side where one of the shards had pierced his skin, poking at the wound curiously. The Sea Captain flinches, pulling away immediately–Ode doesn't seem to take no for an answer, though, and a large hand grabs onto his arm and pulls it closer for inspection.
“Ode, leave it alone. I'll sort it out when we're docked at the island, which won't be too long okay? Maybe another twenty minutes if I'm lucky with all this fog- hey!” The Sea Captain yelps as Ode touches the cut again, more from surprise than pain since Ode is weirdly gentle with it. He hisses under his breath, trying to tug his arm away to no avail, Ode's hand acting as a clamp keeping it in place. His thumb wipes whatever blood is left there, and the Sea Captain keeps his eyes trained on the water.
He's not squeamish by any means, but he's always been independent. He can't think of the last time he let anyone else treat a wound for him, no matter how small and insignificant it was, like this one. Too many nights alone on his ship, shivering in the bathroom and trying to dress a particularly nasty bite from a fish, or a cut from preparations gone wrong, and it took him only a couple years of going through that process since the ripe old age of fourteen until he could patch himself up with no trouble. His medkit is always stocked, ready for another meeting together in the dead of night; it would always be that time, too. No earlier, else he'd be forced to acknowledge his mistakes in the daylight. When it's late, and he's already half asleep and trying not to make his injuries worse with a sloppy hand, he can at least pretend it never happened, pretend it was a dream and not just a delirious punishment for reacting too late the previous day, being too weak to prevent it from happening.
But now, here he is, forced into Ode's tender care as he easily rips off a piece of his long coat, wrapping the fabric around his arm where the cut is. It's unnecessarily careful for something so insignificant, nothing worse than a paper cut, but the way Ode handles him is beyond even that, treating his arm as if it were delicate enough to break. He can hear Ode release a tense breath after he retracts his hands, taking a step back, his fleeting warmth against the Sea Captain's side leaving along with him.
The Sea Captain experimentally moves his arm around, testing how much the makeshift bandage restricts his movement. It doesn't bother him too much, though Ode did end up tying it a little too tight. “Are you happy now?” He grumbles, ignoring Ode's proud beam at his work.
“Yes.” Ode smirks, hands moving to his hips.
“Wow, learned a new word did you?” He chuckles, returning to casually steering the ship while listening to Ode's returning laugh behind him. “I'm proud of you, buddy. Anything else you'd like to talk about?”
Ode remains in contemplative silence for a moment longer, voice piping up with a curious tone, “Chart?”
“Chart?” The Sea Captain furrows his brows, thinking, before he softly mutters ‘oh, I know…’ and reaches into the back pocket of his dull blue shorts, pulling out the crumpled chart Ode had handed to him earlier.
He forgot he even had it, using his own memory of the sea to lead the way. He'd sort of just been heading in the general direction he remembered the chart saying, keeping an eye out for the island Ode had been looking for. So, technically, he hadn't not been using it, but Ode's overjoyed gasp when he pulled the thing out made him regret not having it out on display.
He just…didn't like admitting that he was using it. He trusted his own judgement of the Great Sea to guide him rather than some random old chart, but since this was where his passenger was wanting to go he thought he might as well humour it.
“Here it is. Here's your chart.” He holds it up for Ode to see, shaking it a little as emphasis. Just as he'd shoved it back down into his pocket, though, Ode's hand darts down to go grab it again.
The Sea Captain's face heats up. Ode's hand is inside his back pocket.
“Don't do that, you idiot!” He all but shouts the words, grabbing Ode's wrist and yanking it out. The other man frowns when he does so, tilting his head and still trying to reach for the chart; he doesn't push further than the Sea Captain's strength can stop him, as if letting the decision be the Sea Captain's choice.
“No chart?”
“No chart.” He frees Ode's wrist once he's sure he won't reach for it again, wiping a hand down his face. “God, you have zero knowledge of boundaries…” He pulls the chart back out of his pocket himself, shoving it into Ode's hand. He sighs, “Here. I don't know why you want it so badly, but I guess it is yours.”
Ode nods enthusiastically, “My chart.”
“Yeah, your chart.” He pats Ode on the back, and then gives him a shove in the other direction. “Now leave me alone, we're not far off our destination.”
Ode seems to get the memo, trotting off happily, chart in hand and a huge grin on his face. He disappears below deck, leaving the Sea Captain alone, just how he likes it. His shoulders slump when turning to face the wheel again, weighed down by something that isn't fully clear to him.
He has actually noticed Ode's English getting better, even if only by a little. He's managed to say some more words than he'd previously been able to, adapting quickly enough to the language–at least for a child's vocabulary range, that is. Still, it makes the Sea Captain feels weirdly proud, knowing he helped Ode learn them from their conversations together; he wouldn't really call them conversations, more like one sided chatter as Ode struggles to keep up and respond with anything other than a one word answer, but it's nice to know that this has at least been helping the other man learn.
A shadow forms in the distance.
Wait, is that-
“Shit.” The Sea Captain quickly steers the ship into a better position, trying his best to right their path as the outline of an island creeps up through the fog. He'd stupidly gotten too lost in his thoughts, and hadn't realised how close he'd gotten. The fog certainly hadn't helped, masking the island until he had barely enough time to correct himself.
The ship slows down just in time, docking in the correct place with a small jolt due to the Sea Captain's effort to fix his distracted mistake.
“Khap'taan?” Ode's footsteps creep up behind him, a pinch of concern in his rumbling voice. The Sea Captain turns to face him, toying with the fabric wrapped around his arm nervously, looking anywhere but into Ode's worried eyes. It's embarrassing enough to mess up like that, but with a passenger on board too? He should be completely ashamed of himself.
“Everything's fine, Ode.” He mutters, not letting the wide eyes in front of him coerce him into looking back. He huffs, “And it's Captain. Not ‘Khap'taan’.”
Ode tilts his head, “Khap'taan?”
“...You're infuriating. Did you know that?” He says it sort of sweetly, snickering to himself when Ode nods along happily to whatever he said purely because of his tone of voice–the man really is like a dog, isn't he?
Ode laughs when he laughs, a deep sound that pulls a more genuine smile out of the Sea Captain without his permission. He's quick to will it down, shooting Ode a look that demands him to stop. Ode's face turns serious, posture straightening and looking at him like he holds all the answers to the ways of the world, ready to listen intently. The Sea Captain rolls his eyes, standing tall on the tips of his toes in order to ruffle Ode's hair as he passes by the man, satisfied by the soft gasp he gets in response.
“Come on, I think this is the right island. Probably. I definitely haven't been here before, I can tell you that.” He goes through the process of anchoring down his ship, connecting the ramp onto the dock, and ignoring Ode as he catches up to him easily, long legs leading him to the Sea Captain's side without much effort. He's answered by an approving hum, even though he knows Ode has no idea what he's really saying.
He thinks for a moment, before pointing at the island as they both walk down the ramp. “Island.”
“Island.” Ode copies his movement, pointing at the island and saying the word loudly. He repeats the word ‘island’ again, and then again, like he's trying to make it stick. The Sea Captain chuckles, patting Ode on the back.
“Nice job there. That's an island. And now we're walking onto the island.”
“Walk ing in to island.” This time doesn't go as smoothly, the words rolling off his tongue clumsily and with some hesitation as Ode tries to pronounce them to the best of his abilities. He looks a little disappointed, sighing softly when he can't speak through his thick accent this time around.
“Oh, don't sound so upset.” The Sea Captain smirks, pointing at Ode with finger guns; it's not something he usually does, and he cringes internally at himself for even trying to do that, but he felt like the physical action might make Ode feel better than just any comforting words that he'd lack the understanding for. “Good job, buddy.”
Ode brightens, eyes wide and curious while he points at himself, attempting to move his fingers into the same way the Sea Captain's are positioned. “Good job?”
“Yeah, good job. Don't get too proud, though. All you did was say a few words, doesn't actually matter now that I think about it…” He grumbles, losing his own positivity by the end of it. He continues walking forward, glancing around the island for anything that Ode might've wanted to come here for.
He stares up at the giant mound ahead of him. It stares right back. The Sea Captain shivers, shrinking under the soulless gaze of the skull.
“Don't surrender to fear.”
“What?” He pales, glancing towards Ode. The man doesn't appear bothered, despite having just said a full sentence without any trouble. His voice had been smooth, confident, nothing like the rough, hesitant one he's used to. “Where did you learn that? I'm sure ‘surrender' isn't something I've said around you. Did you learn it from Curator?”
Ode seems just as shocked as he is, brows furrowed and apparently deep in thought. A glint of recognition flashes in his eyes, followed by a small amount of fear as he shakes his head, continuing on forward.
“Oh, okay. So now you ignore me.” He tries to forget about the strange moment, though he can still feel it tugging at his mind like it's begging to be acknowledged. His feet lead him back to Ode's side, not to his full conscious awareness, and he wants to prod further, but it'll certainly be useless.
A shiver creeps up his spine, and he knows it's not just from the large facsimile of a skull not too far from them. He wraps his arms around himself loosely, ignoring Ode's concerned look.
They walk in silence somewhere to the left side of the island, the grass crunching beneath the Sea Captain's feet being the only sound filling it. The absolute quiet of the island is unsettling, and it feels like if he listens closely he can hear the fog's whispers urging him to go back. Okay, maybe he's just a little sleep deprived, but it's not his fault that the island is the exact opposite of welcoming for any travellers coming across it.
“Fun, funky, and functional! I have accessories for sale. They are good.” The Sea Captain is pulled back into the present, the overly loud and energetic voice of the Sniffit who's sitting beside a campfire catching his attention and stopping them in their tracks just before the pile of timber, unlit and with a fireflower resting upon it. Even without his face visible beneath the mask, he keeps his tone forcibly happy and it's obvious he's got a fake grin beneath the facial covering. “This is the entirety of my sales pitch.”
“That's nice, I guess?” The Sea Captain shrugs, looking at Ode for any comments he might have. He's tilting his head at the Sniffit, looking between the fireflower and the supposed shopkeeper curiously.
“Good?”
The Sniffit hops up from where he's sitting with an affirming hum, hauling the rucksack off his back eagerly. He empties some of its contents onto the grass, shiny little trinkets scattering on the floor and glittering like treasures. “Yes, very good! Perfect for travelling, might I add.” He sends a pointed look the Sea Captain's way, a clear point made at his obvious sailor's attire–the neckscarf was a gift from his father, it's not his fault if it makes him look like every stereotypical sailor to ever exist.
“Huh, what even are these?” The Sea Captain crouches down, picking up one of the trinkets shaped like a heart. Ode also lowers himself just as the Sea Captain did, reaching forward to poke at the fireflower with wide eyes; he immediately retracts his arm, cradling it to his chest with a hiss when the flower's petals lick at his fingertips like flames. Chuckling, he hands Ode the heart shaped one he picked up instead for the man to look at.
The Sniffit shows nothing beneath his mask, but his strong gaze still manages to make the Sea Captain's eyes dart away from him as he sits back down on the ground, returning to his browsing through the items splayed out in front of him. None of them look too special other than them reflecting the light in a way that makes them look pretty, but a single glance at Ode's starstruck face is enough to tell him that that's all the other man needs to be captivated. He admires the shimmering red heart resting in the middle of his palm, the silver lining its edges contrasting the darker inside colour quite nicely.
“These are special charms! I can't tell you what they actually do, but it's definitely something good, that's for sure.” The Sniffit points at the one in Ode's hand, “From what I've gathered, the heart charm makes you a little sturdier, and you can take more damage without collapsing!”
“Really?” The Sea Captain squints at the Sniffit, while Ode remains oblivious to the conversation going on around him. “That doesn't sound very believable. How can a little thing like that improve someone's health that way?”
The Sniffit shrugs, palms flat against the grass behind him, leaning back. “Don't ask me. But I guess that's what makes them so special, they might be magic.”
“Yeah, maybe.” The Sea Captain's eyes drift to Ode's awed expression–his sparkling eyes, his big, toothy grin–and sighs. Maybe they really are magic.
“Well, are you gonna buy it or not?”
“Huh?” The Sea Captain falters, nearly having gotten lost in watching Ode. He nods slightly, gesturing to the one the other man was holding, “How much is it for that one?”
The Sniffit brightens, quickly pushing himself up from where he sat, like a man who usually got so little business that the prospect of actually making a transaction had flown right past his head the moment they'd started talking. “That'd be six thousand coins.”
“Six- Six thousand?” He laughs breathlessly, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “For that little thing?”
“That's the price. So, are you gonna pay for it or not?”
“I…” The Sea Captain looks at Ode again. He's never seen the man so overjoyed like this. Caving, he digs his hand into the small brown satchel resting on his hip, and begins counting the money in his palm. The Sniffit watches his movements closely, almost eagerly, like he's more than ready to get the money for himself. Finally, the Sea Captain hands him the payment, not without sending the Sniffit an unamused look. Six thousand coins, and for what? A tiny little trinket?
“Here. Just take it.”
“Good doing business with you, sir.” The Sniffit says it smugly, his honeyed tone dripping sickly sweet from his voice now that he's pretty much dropped the salesman persona.
“Yeah, yeah.” The Sea Captain glares at the Sniffit, standing up and holding out a hand for Ode to take and be lifted up too. “God, you weigh a ton. Come on, you got your souvenir.”
Ode, a little distressed, tries to return the heart shaped charm to the rest of them, but is stopped by the Sea Captain's hand grasping onto his own, pulling it between them. He has to hold onto Ode's one hand with both his own, closing them around it so Ode's fingers curl around the charm. He points a finger into Ode's chest, “Yours.”
Ode points his finger into his chest, beside the Sea Captain's. “Mine.”
“What's wrong with him?” The Sniffit speaks up, looking at Ode. The Sea Captain sends him a withering glare, but he doesn't take any notice. “Is he a bit…y'know.” He makes a small gesture, one that gets the Sea Captain's blood boiling, and his fists clenching subconsciously.
“Excuse me?”
“Well, you have to see what I mean!” The Sniffit shrugs, waving towards Ode's clueless expression. “Don't you think he had some problems developing, or something?”
“No. Why would you assume that?” He practically growls, one of his hands reaching up to latch onto the sleeve of Ode's coat, something to keep himself grounded. “He's just not very good at English yet.”
“Yeah, sure.”
His unconvinced demeanour makes the Sea Captain wish he was stronger than he was in that moment, strong enough to defend Ode with his fists rather than his words; he's never been good at winning arguments, always too hot-headed to avoid his face heating up in anger and his words diminishing to defensive blabber. He takes a deep breath, looking away from the Sniffit before he gives in to the urge to rip that ugly mask off his face and then tear the guy a new one.
“Let's go, Ode.”
“Khap'taan?” Ode looks concerned, but the Sea Captain pays it no mind. It'd be better for the man, that way, not knowing what the Sniffit had been implying about him. He's glad, for once, for Ode's lack of understanding.
He sighs, walking off to the other side of the island, ignoring the Sniffit's sneer of ‘thanks for your money’ as they leave. He's not sure why he felt so defensive over Ode. Maybe it's because he was unable to defend himself, or maybe because he hadn't done anything to deserve that kind of harsh judgement.
The Sea Captain was all too familiar with being made fun of. As a child, he'd been bullied for how overly emotional he used to be. It's a funny thing to think of now, with his present refusal to express them, but that's how it was. He got too happy when he was happy, he cried too much when he was sad, he even cried and shouted when he was angry, too many emotions building up that he struggled to keep from spilling out, and maybe he sees a little bit of his younger self in Ode. Sue him. It's hard not to see the once energetic side of himself in those large grins, in the too loud voice he remembers being told off for back when he couldn't control how excited he got, and maybe he wants to preserve that this time around. His father never defended him from those who hated him for that, and look at where that's gotten him. More often than not alone, driving away most who want to get closer. Maybe, just maybe, he wants to be there for Ode in a way that no one else was for him.
And that's a scary thought.
The Sea Captain hates how much Ode reminds him of himself, hates how Ode doesn't even know this, and he almost wishes he never even let the man onto his ship.
“Khap'taan?”
“Huh?” The Sea Captain distractedly trips over his own feet, his stumbling only stopping when Ode grabs onto the back of his shirt. He stops walking so he can gather his bearings. “What is it?”
“Look.” Ode points at the steps leading higher up onto a raised section of the island, right by the skull. The Sea Captain wouldn't have preferred to go nearer to it, but it seems like that's the only option to travel further on the island.
“Are we…going up there?” He nearly jumps as Ode's hand wraps around one of his own, tugging him forward towards the steps with him. “Hey, wait-” Before he can react, Ode's hands come to rest on his hips, gripping them firmly, and he hauls the Sea Captain up onto the highest ledge, hurrying up the few other steep steps leading to it so he can get to the Sea Captain's side. He sits there on the grass, stunned, and he stares at Ode with wide eyes, and definitely not a light blush dusting his cheeks. Ode had certainly displayed his strength, and it's no little amount by any means. “O-Okay, that works too, I guess.”
Ode grins, lending him a hand to be pulled up, the other man doing so with barely any effort.
“Would've loved a warning first, though…”
“Come on!” Ode booms, rushing over to the right side of the skull, spinning around to look expectantly at the Sea Captain while he waits for him to catch up.
“I'm coming, I'm coming…” He groans, trying to get over the shock of being lifted like he weighed nothing. The second he gets over to where Ode is, the man climbs through a hole in the side of the skull, and the Sea Captain hesitantly climbs in after him.
“Huh.” Surprisingly enough, there's a room inside the skull, creepily lit by three torches, perfect for the unsettling atmosphere the island's already created. Their shadows flicker in the warm light against the cold stone flooring beneath their feet. The Sea Captain shivers, “Ode, are you sure we have to be in here?” He frowns at him, trembling in the freezing temperatures inside the skull, with it colder than outside despite the torches’ best efforts.
“Yes.” Ode stares up at the skull and bones on the wall, its right eye lit up just like the torches.
“Fine.” The Sea Captain walks over to the torches, while Ode wanders off into another room connected to the one they're in, supposedly going deeper into the skull. “Huh, what's this…?” He crouches down, spotting a fourth torch between the first and the second lit torch, its stick buried deep into the ground. He grabs the top of it, giving it a few experimental tugs, and when it doesn't budge, he tries pulling it up with all his strength. All it results in is him falling flat on his ass when the torch still doesn't move an inch, and he hears a bark of laughter behind him.
Ode meets his eyes when he turns around, while he pushes himself off the ground and rubs his sore behind, his face heating up. “Don't laugh.” He has to fight the pout wanting to form on his face before he gives the other man more reason to find humour in his embarrassment, and he folds his arms, sending Ode's smirking face an unamused look. He points at the entrance to the other room, tilting his head, “Did you find anything?”
Ode shakes his head with a sigh.
“Alright. This was useless. What do we do now, then?”
Ode reaches forward again, but this time, the Sea Captain meets his hand halfway, letting the other man grab it happily and drag him outside through the hole they entered. He's led around the front of the skull, carefully stepping from one platform to the next until they're both on the skull's other side, where there's a second hole on its left side, similar to the first.
The Sea Captain lets himself be led through this hole by Ode, where the room is nearly identical to the one they'd just been in. There's another skull on the wall, its left eye aflame, and there are also four torches. Two out of the four are buried in the ground this time, and the Sea Captain feels something click in his mind when he looks at them. Ode watches him closely as he creeps closer towards the torches, and he hesitantly tries to pull the first torch up out of the ground like he'd tried with the other one.
This one, unlike the other, rises from the ground quite easily. He nearly stumbles back at how quickly it moves up, and he hears Ode chuckle behind him once again. He keeps his hands resting on the sides of the torch, glancing at the other buried torch and wondering whether he should also try to pull it up out of the ground. But before he can try anything, a burning hot pain erupts beneath his palms and the Sea Captain shouts, as a strong pair of arms wrap around his torso from behind and yank him back from the torch while he instinctively pulls his inflicted hands away from the danger.
“Shit, what was that?” He slumps into the chest behind him, too upset with the pain in his hands to care about leaning against Ode, or even Ode's arms still keeping him in a loose hold. He tilts his head back, looking up at Ode's worried face. Turning back to the torch, he can see that it'd somehow lit up with a bright flame after he'd lifted it out of the ground. Ode grabs onto his shoulders, spinning him around to face him and then taking his hands into both his own, palms facing up. They're red and irritated.
“Hurt…” Ode sounds geniunely devastated, gently running a thumb along the edge of the burn, making the Sea Captain shiver.
“It's fine, Ode. I've got burn cream back on the ship.”
“Sorry.”
“It wasn't your fault.” He gives Ode the most reassuring smile he can conjure up, and gestures to another hole in the wall leading to what must be the same room Ode had wandered into when they were in the other side of the skull, one he's sure wasn't there when they'd first entered this room. Ode doesn't look so sure to ignore his injury, but eventually gives in, keeping one arm around the Sea Captain's shoulder when he takes a step back.
As they walk through to the other room, the Sea Captain can feel Ode keep glancing at him, but he refuses to meet his concerned eye. The burn's only stinging a little, so he finds it hard to understand why the other man feels the need to be such a mother hen over it.
Ode walks further forward to where there's a red button in the middle of the room, brows furrowed and deep in thought. The Sea Captain finds himself staring at another skull in the wall beside them, this one bigger than the other two, with both eye sockets lit up with flames. The motif of skulls is starting to get really repetitive.
He startles when Ode stamps his foot onto the button, a determined look on his face which morphs into triumph when the skull rises in response to reveal a passageway.
“Wow. Did you know what was going to happen? You shouldn't have done that so quickly, what if the button ended up being a trap-”
“Come, Khap'taan!” Ode latches his hand onto the Sea Captain's wrist, dragging him impossibly quickly to the staircase where the skull had once been without a second thought, the feeling of being dragged around almost becoming familiar at this point. He's led up the stairs to a fourth room in the skull. Ode finally releases his grip on him, moving closer towards what looks to be a treasure chest.
“Hey, do you think there's money in that thing?” He takes his place next to Ode, looking down at the old, dusty chest. Ode reaches down and undoes the clasp, the lid opening with a quiet creak and thudding against the wall behind it. It's empty, sadly, but there's something small resting at the bottom of it.
“Mine…” Ode picks it up, and it turns out to be a figurine in the shape of the submarine back at his ship, the Marino.
“That's…weird. Like, really weird.” He plucks it from Ode's hand, turning it in his hold to get a good look at all angles, and it's definitely the submarine. Weirdly accurate, too. Every detail is perfect, making it an exact replica of the real thing. Ode nods at him, and he frowns, stuffing the thing into his satchel. “I don't want to think too hard about that. Let's just go.”
“Come.” Ode walks over to what looks to be an exit to the skull with all the light spilling into the room, and the Sea Captain follows close by. They both stand over a drop to the bottom of the skull, and he takes a small step back. He's never been good with heights. “Come?”
“No. No way. Are you really expecting me to- oh come on!” He yelps as Ode grabs his wrist again and drags them both over the edge, the Sea Captain squeezing his eyes shut and holding onto Ode's arm tightly. They both slide down the curve of the skull's exterior, and the Sea Captain's feet touch solid ground quicker than he thought they would. He takes a deep breath before opening his eyes, only to realise that they'd landed inside of the skull's nose. He glares at Ode, releasing the other man's arm and poking him hard in the chest, “Why would you ever think that'd be a good idea?”
Ode doesn't respond, turning to the statue that the Sea Captain hadn't noticed when they'd landed there, too focused on getting rightly upset over Ode's stupid decisions.
“Okay, fine, go ahead and ignore me. There's absolutely no good reason to listen to what I have to say anyway.” He grumbles, scanning the statue. It's shaped like a man with wings on his back, and there's some writing engraved on its pedestal. The words make absolutely zero sense to him, talking about orbs and paradise. “Maybe it's some sort of religious statue.”
Ode hums, resting his hand against the stone. Then, without warning, it sinks slightly into the ground, and it feels like the whole island begins shaking. The Sea Captain is nearly swept off his feet, and Ode quickly pulls him close, shielding him against a few loose rocks which come tumbling from the ceiling. It stops as soon as it started, and the Sea Captain almost feels disappointed at the anticlimactic ending.
“Wait, where's the fog?” Surely enough, when he looks out at the water, the fog is nowhere to be seen, as if it'd been blown away by some giant fan. There's no way that could've happened, but he can't really think of what actually did. The fog disappeared just like that, in the span of only a few seconds.
“Magic.”
The Sea Captain glares at Ode. “Oh, shut up. You learned that from that Sniffit salesman, didn't you?”
Ode chuckles, and without any prompting, jumps out the hole.
The Sea Captain can only sigh. “Ode, you're such an ass.” He peeks over the edge of the skull's nose, looking down at Ode, who's waving up at him with a large grin on his face. He's about to follow after him, but for some reason his hairs stand on edge, and the back of his head prickles as though he's being watched. He turns back to face the statue, only now its eyes glow a blinding white. The Sea Captain covers his eyes like if he were staring straight at the Sun, and maybe he is, because the light emanating from the stone-carved man can only be described as such. When he tries to peek at it again, the glow burns brighter, and he's forced to close his eyes with a gasp.
His mind feels fuzzy, like it's melting inside his skull and oozing out of his eyes, like tears. If he listens closely, he might hear Ode shout his name, but it's all drowned out over the buzzing in his ears. It's blinding white pain that brings him to his knees, almost like the blinding eyes he'd seen only for a second, and he cries out. His hands instinctively move to cover his ears, but the sound doesn't quiet, only numbing his mind with a steady thrum of heat that spreads throughout his entire body. He wants to get up, to shout for Ode, but his body refuses to move. Unwillingly, his hands clasped together in front of him.
“Seek and ye shall find…
Come, follow me to paradise…”
A voice speaks to him, inside his head. It wraps around all his thoughts, like it's trying to push them out and be the sole thing he can think of. The words seem to repeat over and over in his mind, loud and demanding and nearly angelic, except the voice doesn't sound human enough to comfort him. The sentences overlap, overwhelmingly, and yet somehow still understandable. It's spoken like a human would, except without a human purpose, like a shell of humanity without the necessary drive and emotion to truly make it human. It feels uncanny.
And then, it stops. Like nothing even happened, it stops. Movement returns to his limbs, and with a shaky hand, he pushes himself up onto even shakier legs. He hisses under his breath at the burn from his palms, but it feels like nothing compared to the overwhelming numbness taking over the rest of his body. His ears are ringing, and when he touches one of them, his fingertips return coated in blood.
“Huh…” His voice sounds foreign to his own ears. He can't seem to think of much, other than trying hard to remember what just happened. His knees hurt.
“Khap'taan! Khap'taan!! Hurt?” A voice shouts loudly from somewhere behind him. Who's voice is that again?
“Khap'taan! Pl ease !” The voice sounds broken, desperate. Is it desperate for him? Is he Khap'taan?
“Khap'taan!” He feels a sudden urge to correct the voice.
“It's Captain, Ode!” His mouth moves before he can even think of the words. Right, he's Sea Captain. And that's Ode shouting for him. He probably shouldn't keep the man waiting.
“Come!” Ode's voice sounds much more relieved, beckoning him to come closer. And he does. He clumsily makes his way over to the hole, sliding down the side rather than jumping out because he's not so sure whether he'd land on two feet. He slumps against the skull, looking at Ode's worried face with tired eyes. Why's he so tired?
“Hurt.” Ode takes a small step closer, eyes drifting to what must be the dry blood now caked around his ears. He grabs the edge of his coat and lifts it up, gently wiping away as much of the blood as he can until the fabric finally comes back with the last of it, leaving a messy spot of dull red against the original navy blue.
“Mm, maybe.” Ode sends him a disbelieving look, but it's not like he himself knows if he's actually hurt or not. He doesn't know why his ears started bleeding. At least the ringing stopped.
“Let's just…get back to the ship.” He points at his ship docked a small distance away, and Ode understands, hesitantly beginning to walk back the way to the dock. The Sea Captain tries to follow after him, but after a single step he nearly collapses to the floor, the only thing stopping him being Ode's hands as he'd rushed back immediately upon his first sway. He doesn't fight it when the man picks him up into a bridal carry, leaning his head into the firm chest tiredly.
He tries to stay focused, he really does.
He can't help it when black spots dance across his vision, and each blink becomes heavier than the last, his eyelids feeling like lead.
He hears Ode mutter his name one last time, and everything goes black.