Chapter Text
Jean woke up to loud footsteps marching towards his room — cell.
It was a rhythm he already knew all too well. Heavy and sometimes inconsistent after three or four thumps, but always finding his room in the end.
Grayson.
He needed to barricade his door, but Riko took away his keys.
The only thing left in his “room” was his bed, which was too heavy for him to even try to push. There was no pillow, no covers, no wardrobe and no davenport.
His heart was thrumming like the gallop of a running wild horse inside his ribcage, he couldn’t breath. The room’s too small, no window, the air is clammy and his skin is too tight to fit himself.
He knew what to expect. He knew how to behave to make it end quickly, but sometimes it was too much, too painful, too degrading. It was hard. But he endured it every time. He had to, or he wouldn’t survive.
And the one time he could no longer take it. The one time he made a choice for himself, the choice to end it all, to rest for the first time in a long, long time, he failed. Not only did he fail, but things got worse, Riko got more violent, Grayson more frequent and hope was missing.
The one time he cut his wrists, the cut was too superficial and his hands were shaking. Blood. It was the first time he hurt himself with purpose.
Then green eyes took over, and they pleaded, it was the first time something was asked of him, the first time it wasn’t demanded, and he gave in. He promised.
Yet, those same green eyes didn’t stick around to see him keep it, to see what it cost him. They never did. One day, when he woke up, those eyes had left him for good. And betrayal and resentment took over, how he hated those green eyes. He would not dare to even mention the name of the owner of those eyes that haunts him from time to time.
A bitter memory is what he left Jean, one Jean wished he could forget. Maybe then, it wouldn’t be as painful.
Firm and purposeful steps. They were getting closer, closer, closer. Too close. Right behind it.
But then, they passed straight. Not even stopping or slowing down. And a few more, maybe seven or eight, all heading to the main deck.
He let out a shaky breath. They weren’t coming for him. His heart seemed to understand there was no danger, yet.
In his head, memories were passing like a film. One, no one would like to watch, because it was too morbid. Jean knew he wouldn’t.
Then he remembered another pair of eyes. Striking blue, like a lightning during a dangerous sea storm. He remembers fiery red hair, but not orange, no closer to a sunset red sky. Yes, like that one time he got to see a different sky.
Although their time together was short, he would never forget the fae boy. They would talk endlessly at nights neither could sleep. Nathaniel. No. Neil was more like a bittersweet dream.
Neil never let anyone get inside their room. He protected Jean, and Jean protected him. It was mutual. Equal. For once he didn’t feel like he needed to keep an eye open to get through the night.
Even though Neil had a sharp tongue and could be stupid sometimes, they got along pretty well. Neil talked to him in his mother tongue, they shared memories, secrets and mundane thoughts.
He told Neil about green eyes. Green eyes that haunted his dreams from time to time, and made him want to tie his own neck and hang. He told Neil about Riko, about Grayson, the hurt, betrayal, and the disgust. Everything.
And Neil told him about his father, his mother, his uncle, the scars. Whispered at the quiet of the night to him about his time running, how green eyes found him, how he joined the foxes’ ship, told him about golden eyes, a cold personality, a fierce stare and a short man who is like an unshakable wall. Everything.
It wasn’t an exchange. They both needed to put all that out somewhere no one could poke. And they found it in each other. They were each other’s secret chest.
But he knew it wouldn’t last. Neil had to leave, and he would. And to Jean’s discontent the shrimp made him an impossible promise. He said he would soon come back for Jean, and would rescue him.
It was almost laughable. Ridiculous to even think of it. One time he dared to think what it would be like if that happened. What freedom would be like, but he had never felt it before to know what it should feel like.
It was too much for his head to think of impossible dreams.
So, he forced himself to focus on the sounds above him. There was shouting of orders from Riko to the crew, too many feet to even count running and the soft crash of the waves against the outside walls of the pirate ship.
The men on the deck above sounded desperate. But why?
He didn’t have a window in his room, therefore, he had no idea what they could be facing. He hopes it’s a huge storm coming, one with enough power to carry the ship to the bottom of the ocean. Where, they’ll meet cruel and ugly creatures just as themselves.
They deserve it afterall
Instead, however, he hears Riko’s scream — he should probably go upstairs as well, but his physical condition at the moment is not good enough to put up much of a fight, also Riko ordered him to stay in his room — and suddenly the clash of blades starts ferociously.
Blades were cutting, bones were crashing, men were screaming, feet stomping the floor with speed. They were running away.
They were leaving him to die. Left alone to face whatever danger they couldn’t handle. It was always like that.
The sound of bodies falling into the water and on the wooden floor.
There were voices, strange voices, from unknown men.
He should probably find a place to hide. However, every muscle of his limbs protests against movement, any fight left in him will be used to beg for his life. That, and the fact that there was no place to hide in this damn ship.
A familiar voice calls for him. One that belongs to a fae boy with broken wings, many scars, a sharp tongue, sunset red hair and eyes a striking blue. Niel.
The door bangs open and that same short shrimp-like faerie stands there. Confusion takes over him.
“C’mon, — Niel hurried him — I promised I would come back for you.”
Jean could only stare in shock. So the battle going on upstairs was an invasion to rescue him. It's not that he didn’t believe Niel, in fact he put his own life at the other’s hands many times, he just didn’t believe the red haired would actually make it. He was prepared to try and run away by himself, just waiting for an opportunity, no he wasn’t, his brain filled in.
Suddenly his eyes sting, the swell of tears fogged his vision a bit, but he didn’t let himself cry, not a single drop of salted water fell from his eyes.
Neil seemed to have finally realised the state he was in, and went to help him get up.
Every cut and bruise and broken bone could be felt ardently, yet he felt energised, reinvigorated with new ambition to survive another day.
Their walk up the stairs was laborious. He used the little crevette (shrimp) as support but it went far more painful than he thought it would be. Still, they made it, and the scene at the main deck was beautiful.
Men, no, Ravens, were all laying dead on the black wooden floor, painting the scene with their red. The picture ahead made his stomach flutter, a feeling of relief in the back of his head.
A small smile crept its way, but as quickly as it came, it went away when he smoothed it out with his fingers.
It was exhilarating, the sensation of freedom, of safety. Something so unknown. He was a Moreau afterall, he shouldn’t have freedom, he should belong to someone, follow their orders, accept whatever punishment came his way, and be who and what they wanted him to be.
He used to mold and bend and break to become what others wanted him to be. He would let others mold and bend and break him, for their own satisfaction.
And now, every single one of them are dead.
In the war zone of bodies there were only two he wanted to recognize.
A hand came to view, Niel was pointing towards his right. Rainbow hair dirtied by blood, it belonged to an elf girl, who was marching in his direction.
She was holding a severed head. Then she stopped right in front of him, and smiled, it was so bright and beautiful, and lifted the decapitated head for him to see. “For you,” she said.
The head in question belonged to a man who had a body bigger than his, stronger than his, heavier and harder. A man who used all of that to hurt and abuse and humiliate him. To degrade his body, to vent all his frustration on him. A man who made him bear all his marks, of hands, of fists, of kicks, of teeth. A man with no humanity.
Grayson. It belonged to Grayson.
A man who has now been reduced to nothing.
It was all happening so fast, so many feelings trying to get out he was afraid it was a dream. One, that for the first time, he didn’t want to wake up from.
“I’m Renee,” the elf said, interrupting his thoughts “we’re all here to save you.”
Save. The word seemed so novel to him, almost as if it shouldn’t be a part of his life. He didn’t deserve it. Yet here he was.
“We couldn’t manage to kill Riko,” this time it was Neil “but we’ll take you somewhere safe, far away from those lands he thinks he rules, and even farther from these seas.”
Jean looked at the fae boy skeptical, he needed the ocean to survive.
As if reading his mind the orange head completed “I said we’ll take you far away from these seas, not away from the water. Trust me, you’ll eventually like where we’re going.” He finished with a side smile, something Jean rarely saw.
“C’mon,” Renee hurried them, “our ship is that one.”
The ship was huge in comparison to the one the Ravens were sailing. White wood, and the ship’s hull was reinforced with gold, painted with beautiful patterns. What intrigued him, though, was that it had no flag.
No pirate nor country flag. It was probably illegal.
As they made their way to the plank connecting both ships, he remembered the collar around his neck. He was bound to the Raven’s pirate ship through it.
If he stepped foot outside he would die. He would suffocate.
“I can’t leave.” Neil stared at him with a questioning look “The collar won’t let me leave, unless I die. I’m bound to ship.”
“What kind of magic?” Renee asked.
“Prohibited ancient spells.” He took in a deep breath, things were never once easy for him, why would it be now.
“I see” the girl tapped her chin “if we could find a way to take you with us, without activating the prisoning magic of that thing.”
They pondered for a minute. Actually Neil and Renee pondered, he was finding all this situation surreal. He wouldn’t mind being left behind. Just for the fact that someone thought of him, remembered him and came back for him, is enough to give him peace of mind. He could sink to the bottom of the ocean with the ship and just live there while he can.
“What if we took a part of the ship with us?” Neil considered.
The elf girl inspected him intrigued by the suggestion.
“We could take a core part of the ship with us, maybe then the thing around his neck would still sense, that is still on the ship.”
“Okay, it’s worth a try.” Renee said with enthusiasm “But what would we take with us to not activate it?”
“I think I know.” Jean promptly blurted out. Then pointed to the flag, it was red with a black skull of a raven.
“Alright” Neil said before he was climbing that pole. Crazy. Jean thought.
He was agile and fast. When he got down and offered that hateful thing for him to hold, dread took over.
What if it doesn’t work? He asked himself, all the trouble Neil put into saving him will be for nothing, all his arduous days barely managing to survive will be just a memory only he would remember. A story no one would tell, and even if they did no one would like to hear.
“Stop” the little crevette imposed “I won’t let you die. If any sign of magic on the collar appears, I’ll stop you.”
“You’re stupid” Jean said with spite.
“Maybe. But I need you to get on that stupid ship so we can heal you. Or at least begin to,” the boy looked at him up and down a bit skeptical “there’s a lot to do.”
He arched an eyebrow at that statement, a bit offended, but also agreeing with it. It was the truth afterall, he was too broken.
“Très bien.” He was dry with his reply. But not out of some petty emotion towards his lost partner. But out of fear. There was a huge chance this could all go terribly wrong, and he ended up just like the lifeless bodies lying around him.
Still, he was determined to give his meaningless life one last chance. It was all he could do. His last drop of hope.
So he did it. He forced his feet to march with a tenacious hold of his thoughts, he wouldn’t spiral now. He never backed down, so he moved forward headstrong.
Even though dread was clawing in between the creases of his ribcage, and like a snake, stealthily creeping its way to his throat to suffocate him. Just like Riko enthusiastically did. He was obstinate to follow through with this ridiculous idea.
Yes he was hesitant, but in truth he was also very light. One of his worst living nightmares was dead. No longer there to torment him, use him.
He got close to the wooden plank connecting the ships.