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If one of them got thrown off, then they would drown.
The seas reared and bucked beneath them like a wild horse, whitecaps tossed about like manes in the wind. They were pitched up and down again and again. Under Jimmy’s fingers, the raft wood was rough and sharp, splinters digging into his palms and the pads of his fingers. He was sure that he would be picking slivers of wood from his skin for days.
This was bad. He had heard Lizzie talking about the ocean before, likening it to some sort of mistress that needed to be pleased, a woman with dragon fangs and fingers that struck galleons in two at a moment’s notice. In the past, considering his own relationship with the sea—something gentle, soft, like a mother—he had never really given any weight to the stories. He had dreamt for years about the ocean welcoming him like a brother, with soft purple-blue eyes and a smile with pink-scale freckles scattered across pale blue cheeks. He’d dreamt of deep blue water that tasted of salt and kelp filling his mouth and lungs, but it never scared him. Somehow, he knew he couldn’t drown. Even the silty, jade-colored waters of the swamps he dreamt of had the same feeling, curling around him and playing with his hair.
This was not that sea.
This was something vicious, a feral horse still bearing wolf teeth and biting at the reins to be released. Wind howled like a bellow; the raft shook like an unfit saddle. Salt water splashed into Jimmy’s face, washing over his tongue and scratching at his throat as he spat it out. His eyes burned, and a glance spared the others’ way showed they were in much the same situation.
Fwhip had been the one to spot the storm. However, there was nothing they could do to avoid it. As much as they wanted to pretend they were more capable than they were, their sail and paddles couldn’t bring them anywhere else. Instead, Fwhip had grabbed a bunch of ropes and yelled at them to get prepared to strap in and hold on. A couple minutes before, Grian had smacked his head against the raft pretty hard, and now Fwhip was holding the back of his shirt with one hand and clinging to the rope with the other to hold them both on. Some red marked the raft wood. When he looked, though, Jimmy couldn’t tell if the head wound was still bleeding or not. He could only pray that it wasn’t.
They hadn’t seen the shark in a bit.
He didn’t know why.
He wasn’t sure if it was because the shark had swum to deeper waters, or if it was just waiting somewhere beyond what they could see—or worse, if there was something else waiting for them.
They went over the crest of a wave again, and Jimmy grunted as he was smashed into the wood beneath him. Panicked, Joel glanced his way. Water crashed over their heads before Jimmy could even catch a breath. When he could, though, he flashed a weak grin at Joel. There was a smile back, pained and panicked. Then, they were going up another wave, and Jimmy sucked in a breath.
The only warning sign he got was the raft dipping suddenly.
Then, the world flipped. Jimmy was thrown from the rafts. Dimly, he heard someone scream his name. It might have been Joel.
The water punched him in the face. Debris and wood raced around him. The torrent whipped up. Something slammed into his back. Bubbles spilled from his mouth. Gasping, Jimmy slammed a hand over his mouth. He choked on ocean water. Something slammed into his leg. Pain split his arm. Kicking, he turned. Where’s the surface? Which way is up? He whipped around. His hand split the surface. Kicking, he surfaced. Rain smashed against his face.
“Jimmy!” Someone roared his name. Turning, vision blurred by salt water and rain, Jimmy searched for the others. He couldn’t—he needed—
Something slammed into his head and back.
Everything went black.
xxx
“Jimmy!”
Joel watched for him. He surfaced, briefly. It was barely a glimpse, Joel just managed to see the flash of blond hair against the dark blue of the ocean.
Then, something struck him. Jimmy went back under the surface. “Jimmy!” Joel shoved himself upright on unsteady feet. Someone tried to grab his ankle. Glancing down, he met Grian’s gaze. “I have to find him!”
“Don’t drown yourself, too!” Fwhip warned. Still, Grian’s grip slackened.
Turning, Joel dove into the ocean.
He didn’t know how he avoided the debris. He would just cite it as being lucky. The salt burned his eyes. Gasping, he kicked, found the spot he thought Jimmy had gone under in. There was red in the water. Come on, Joel! Come on! The waves whipped him around. Spinning in a tight circle, he gritted his teeth. Okay. Okay, let’s get him. Come on, Joel!
Sucking in a breath, he dove. The water whipped around him, torrential. Squinting through the burn in his eyes, the scorching feeling in his throat, he glanced around. There was a flash of dark gold hair in his vision, lit by a flash of lightning. There.
The water tried to pull him away from Jimmy. Fighting the waves was hard. Every kick was hard, throwing himself against it was like trying to slog up a snowy hill without shoes. But he did it, he got to Jimmy, he managed to get there—
Joel’s fingers locked around the back of Jimmy’s shirt.
Yanking him upright, Joel wrapped his arms around Jimmy’s middle and started kicking. His heart thundered in his chest. Against his chest, Jimmy wasn’t moving. He wasn’t trying to kick, or struggling to breathe, or doing anything. He was just…limp.
Surfacing, Joel clutched Jimmy to his chest and whipped his head around, looking desperately for the raft. He could see it, could see Fwhip and Grian there with their paddles waving. They were trying to get back to Joel and Jimmy, trying to rescue them. As the water bucked and raged around them, Joel fought to keep Jimmy’s head above the water. His head kept falling back. He wasn’t helping, but he wasn’t fighting either. It was a blessing and a curse.
Grunting, Joel kicked faster, swam harder. He reached out a hand. Turning, Grian disappeared for a moment. Then, he chucked a hook for them. It landed a few feet away. Three feet, two feet, one—
Wrapping his hand around the hook, Joel let himself be hauled forwards. Salty water splashed in his face, running into his mouth. Spitting, he gasped and kept kicking. Come on, come on. Hurry. We don’t have much time. He glanced down at Jimmy. He was so pale, so still. He needs to be out of the water now.
They slammed into the raft, and Joel let go of the hook to throw an arm up onto the wood. Ragged splinters dug into his arm and chest. He’d worry about that later. Coughing, spitting, he hauled Jimmy up. “Take Jimmy! Now!” He ordered. Nodding, Fwhip and Grian grabbed Jimmy by the arms, dragged him up onto the wood and into the middle of the raft. He still didn’t move, didn’t respond. Head drooping, he just…stayed there. Water dripped from his parted lips.
Kicking harder, Joel shoved himself up and over the edge of the raft. His chest slammed into the wood. Still coughing, he scrambled for Jimmy. Grian stopped him with a shake of his head, dragging him back. “We need to make sure the boat stays steady for Fwhip—” He choked out. The jagged wound on the side of his head was still bleeding sluggishly.
Ice-cold water splashed over them. “Grian—I need that mask-thing we found. It’s in the medical kit.” Fwhip ordered, voice tight and still. Flattening Jimmy on his back, he immediately pounced on his chest, fingers locked together and moving fast.
Joel stared in horror. Oh.
That’s why Jimmy wasn’t helping me swim back.
He couldn’t. His own heart stuttered in his chest. At least his was beating. In front of him, Grian scrambled to grab the medical kit. The mask was pressed to Jimmy’s face, repeatedly squeezed to force air into his lungs. His chest rose once, twice. Then, Fwhip was back on compressions, and Grian was humming under his breath, and Joel was just—staring. Stock-still, unable to do anything but suck in his own ragged breaths.
Jimmy’s skin was pale, too pale. Around them, the ocean continued to pitch, but it seemed…calmer. Like something had stopped it from rocking so much. Looking up, Joel stared at the sky. The clouds were still there, still dark. Swallowing, he grabbed his shirt. Tangling his fingers in the fabric helped.
A loud snap split the air, and Joel turned to look at Jimmy and Fwhip. Leaning above him, Fwhip grimaced. “It’s normal, it’s fine. It’s normal.” Fwhip murmured. It sounded like he was saying it to himself. Then, he nodded to Grian. Grian returned the nod and then began to squeeze the bag, forcing air into Jimmy. Again, his chest rose two times. Then, Fwhip was back to pumping his chest. “Come on, Jimmy. Give us something. Please. You can’t leave us like this.”
Joel’s arms were shaking. Swallowing, he leaned forwards. The world spun. I need to lie down. I can’t distract Grian and Fwhip right now by passing out. I need to let them focus on Jimmy. I need to not pass out. Slowly, he sank to the raft. It rocked beneath him, but the sea seemed—softer. Why did it seem so much softer?
Jimmy still wasn’t moving.
Wrapping his arms around himself, Joel watched as Grian and Fwhip fought to bring him back. He couldn’t do anything. He could watch. That was it. Sniffing, wiping water from his face, he squeezed his eyes shut. I should have been faster, I should have gotten to him faster—
He’s dead because of me. He died because I didn’t get to him fast enough. He died because I wasn’t holding him to the raft well enough. I should have—Joel couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t—he had to—he needed—
Jimmy gasped, kicking against the raft. Writhing, he threw his head to the side. Joel stared at him. Eyes cracking open, blurred with pain, Jimmy coughed. Water spilled from his mouth. Quickly, Fwhip rolled him to the side, Grian knelt at his back. Coughing, hacking, Jimmy vomited up the water in his lungs. His shoulders heaved. Joel scrambled upright, dragging him over to Jimmy.
Grian grabbed him, holding him close. “Give him a second, give him space. Please.” He whispered, pulling Joel to his chest. Stomach lurching, Jimmy hacked up more water. A weak cry left him. Gently, Fwhip grabbed him, hand cupping his neck and head.
“Ssh, ssh, it’s okay. It’s alright, Jimmy.” Fwhip murmured. Gasping, jerking, Jimmy threw a hand up. He grabbed at Fwhip’s arm.
“Joel—” Jimmy rasped. Straightening up, Joel fought against Grian. The arms around his middle were surprisingly strong. Tightening his grasp, Grian buried his face in Joel’s shoulder. “Where—”
“He’s on the raft, he’s fine. He’s okay.” Fwhip reassured. Nodding, Jimmy coughed again. More water spilled from his lips. He made an awful retching sound. Then, as quick as he had woken up, he slumped into Fwhip’s arms. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I promise, Jimmy. You’re going to be okay.”
Wheezing, Jimmy settled in his arms, eyes drifting closed—but he kept breathing. He kept breathring, and that was what mattered. He was still with them.
Sighing in relief, Joel grabbed onto Grian’s arm, watching Jimmy and Fwhip.
xxx
They found an island within the hour.
Dragging themselves up onto the sand, the raft with them, Fwhip, Joel, and Grian did their best to make camp. Joel settled on the ground with Jimmy, his friend’s head in his lap. Grian and Fwhip hurried around and began trying to find firewood, food, fresh water. They didn’t even have any blankets to try and dry him off. He was cold, they had managed to scoop some sand on top of and around him in the hope that it would at least get him a bit warmer (the layers on top of and around his chest were thin, they didn’t have any on his neck).
Lying on the sand, Jimmy wheezed. His eyes were half-lidded, staring at the still-cloudy sky above their heads. Brushing his bangs from his face, Joel whispered, “Come on, Jimmy, buddy, stay with us. Jimmy.” Swallowing, he forced out, “James.”
Somehow, that got Jimmy’s attention. “Only…my mum…calls me James.” He rasped. His voice sounded wrong. So, so wrong.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You—you have to keep your eyes open, Jimmy. Come on, focus on me. Just—” He was rambling. Shutting his mouth, Joel brushed Jimmy’s hair back again. His friend’s eyes fluttered. Then, he jolted. “Jimmy?”
“’m okay.” He mumbled. Slowly, sucking in a breath, he blinked. The movement was languid. Tired. “Jus’ tired.”
“Don’t sleep. Please.” I don’t think you’ll wake back up, he glanced around for Grian and Fwhip, whispering, “Where the heck are they?”
As if summoned by his question, Fwhip came sprinting down the beach. “Joel! Joel! We found a cabin!”
“A cabin?” Joel echoed, straightening up. Nodding, Fwhip reached their side. Then, hurriedly, he started sweeping the sand off of Jimmy. He grunted, looking at Fwhip like he was disturbing his sleep. “How?”
“No idea. Grian’s checking and making sure it’s clear. We’re not going to be able to stay here for forever, we’re still trying to get home obviously, but it’s empty and we can use it.” Fwhip started. “Grian was drawing a bath and filling buckets last I checked because we need to make sure everyone gets fresh water. And it is! No electricity, though.”
“Who cares about electricity?” Joel belted, helping with the sand. When it was swept away, Jimmy was left shivering on the sand. With a gentle ease, Fwhip scooped Jimmy up, bundled him in his arms, and then started running. Joel followed him.
Only about fifteen seconds of running later, they encountered the cabin.
The cabin was a squat, one-story thing, with open windows and a slanted roof. There was a decent-sized hole in one section of it. Taking the stairs up to the porch two at a time, Fwhip shouldered the door open. “Grian! Help me get him naked!”
“What?” Joel stared at Fwhip. In his arms, Jimmy had dropped back into unconsciousness.
Fwhip’s eyes darted to him, “Jimmy is hypothermic, and he was knocked out by something. I wasn’t able to check his back for injuries. We need to make sure that he’s not injured, and the best way to do that is make sure he isn’t wearing something that can hide those. You don’t have to help if you don’t want.”
“No, I—” Joel glanced to the side. “Fine, fine, whatever. I just—whatever.” He followed Fwhip into another room. One of Jimmy’s arms slammed into the door frame. Wincing, Joel went over and grabbed his hand. Jimmy’s fingers were cold. Clammy. “Jimmy, can you open your eyes? Please?”
“There’s some soap and stuff. Joel, why don’t you focus on getting some of the blood out of his hair and let Fwhip and I handle everything else?” Grian asked. Glancing over, Joel nodded.
While Fwhip and Grian stripped Jimmy down and tried to find the source of the blood on his back, Joel messed around with the soap and getting towels and the like. Darting off at Grian’s orders, he grabbed some fresh clothes. When he came back, Jimmy was in the tub and Fwhip and Grian were trying to clean the sand off of him.
Setting the clothes to the side, Joel started checking Jimmy’s head for injuries.
xxx
When Jimmy woke, he was lying on his side on a bunch of blankets, and Grian was at his back with his arms wrapped around his middle.
Taking a slow breath, Jimmy cracked open his eyes. Lifting his head was out of the question. He didn’t have the strength. “Gr-Grian?” He rasped, trying to turn. The best he could do was sort of throw his arm back. He accidentally elbowed Grian in the process. There was a low grunt. “Sorry.”
“Jimmy?” Grian asked. Then, the arms around his middle tightened, slackened, and disappeared. Grian pushed himself up. “You’re awake! I—” He covered Jimmy’s ear with his hand, then shouted, “Fwhip, Joel!”
Slowly, delicately, Grian pulled Jimmy up and into a hug. “Hey, G. Something—” He glanced up when Joel and Fwhip burst into the room. Both of them looked terrified. “What happened?”
“You—you fell into the water. And drowned.” Joel choked out.
“Are your ribs okay?” Fwhip crouched down in front of him, hurriedly feeling over Jimmy’s chest and neck. Swallowing, Jimmy glanced down as his shirt was pulled away. Deep, dark bruises marked his skin. Oh. Wow.
“You weren’t kidding.” He mumbled. Shakily, he reached out. “I—I think I need to lie back down.”
Grian and Joel helped him lie down. Immediately, Grian put Jimmy’s head in his lap, brushing his fingers through his hair. Looking up at him, Jimmy frowned. “Fwhip, why don’t you go and get the soup for Jimmy, huh?”
Jimmy.
Grian hadn’t called him Timmy once since he’d woken up. Sure, he’d only named him twice, when he first woke up and then a few seconds before, but—“Grian.” Jimmy waited until those dark blue eyes focused on him, “How bad was it?”
“It—” Sharing a look with Joel, Grian sighed. Then, he turned back to him, “Bad. You weren’t—we pulled you out and you weren’t—” He waved a hand in the air, flailing for some kind of explanation. “You weren’t breathing. You didn’t have a pulse, and then you were hypothermic and you were bleeding and—yeah. But we found an island, and a cabin.”
“Do you have a radio?”
“There’s one, but it’s broken.”
“Doesn’t matter, I can—” Jimmy sucked in a breath. “I can fix it.”
“You can rest.” Joel growled out, teeth gritted. “We can put out rocks or whatever. You need rest. If you don’t get rest, then you might die.”
“If I don’t get you the radio, then we all might die.”
There was a pause. Gritting his teeth, Joel glanced at Grian. Jimmy crossed his arms over his chest, closing his eyes. “We’ll see. We have some old food here, soup cans and stuff. We can wait a little while, and maybe you can guide us through the motions to fix it. Okay?”
“Maybe.” Jimmy mumbled. There was something sitting in his chest.
Grian brushed his fingers through his hair again.
xxx
They got the radio fixed.
It was a lot simpler than Jimmy had feared, really. There was a bit of sand in the gears, but nothing was bulging or leaking, and the components weren’t burnt out. It was just the case of loosening the spring clips, moving a couple dials, and then returning it to a somewhat working shape. He didn’t even need to get up for it. They got lucky with the radio.
They didn’t get lucky with him.
Jimmy knew they had a problem when his breathing began to rasp. As he laid there, feeling like someone was sitting on his chest even though he didn’t even have a shirt on, he saw Joel and Grian frantically trying to get the radio to pick up a signal. Panting, he tipped his head to the side. Fwhip came over with a bowl of hot water and soaked a towel in it, laying it across his chest. “Please work,” Fwhip murmured. He didn’t even seem to realize that Jimmy was awake.
“Come on, come on! Damnit—” Joel cut himself off with a nervous whimper, biting his cheek. He and Grian were both sunburnt. Fwhip had gotten more tan since the last time Jimmy had closed his eyes. How long have I been out?
He blinked, and the windows changed color. The lighting was different. He was losing time.
Things whipped by, faster and faster. Grian and Joel were sitting in the middle of the living room, trying to find something on the radio again.
Fwhip was sitting cross-legged in front of a fire in the hearth. His eyes were dark. Shadows carved across his face. Grian was spread out on the other ratty couch, Joel with his arms thrown over the cushions and his head tipped back, legs splayed across the rug.
It was daytime again. Fwhip was sleeping on the couch. Yet again, Joel and Grian were fiddling with the radio. Joel was spooning soup into Grian’s mouth as he worked.
It was a hot night. Jimmy was burning alive. Someone was kneeling above him, wiping his face with a wet cloth. It didn’t work. His skin burned. His lungs weren’t expanding right.
Shouting—no, cheering. Grian. Joel. Fwhip was awake, yelling at them to be quiet.
Bright lights. But it was nighttime? Why? People talking. He didn’t know their names.
Hands on his face. People murmuring. Latex gloves. He didn’t know their names. Their faces. He didn’t—where were Fwhip, Joel, and Grian? Where were the others? Were they okay? Were they—
He was being moved. The world rattled. The sky was covered in stars. More bright lights, a ship horn of some sort. People were talking. He didn’t know their voices. He didn’t know their names. Where were his friends?
Who were these—
xxx
When he woke up, everything was different.
He didn’t know where he was, but it wasn’t the cabin. Groaning, Jimmy tilted his head to the side. His eyes scanned the room. Sterile white walls, a window off to the side, and just past it—skyline? Is that—he shoved himself upright and gasped, hand flying to his stomach. What—
Tugging the hospital gown (when had he been changed into a hospital gown? When did he end up here) away from his chest, Jimmy stared at the stitches running from his collarbones to his stomach. Eyes wide, he sucked in a breath. A few monitors started beeping around him.
In front of his bed, someone shot upright. Fiery blond hair, burning red eyes—“Jimmy!” Tango rasped, looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks. “You’re awake. Oh my gosh, you’re awake, how do you feel? Do you need water?”
“The—the others? Gri—” Jimmy winced. His throat ached. Flailing, Tango picked up a cup of water nearby and took one of Jimmy’s hands in his own, wrapping his fingers around it and helping him drink. The water was cool. Delicious. Sure, the boiled seawater they’d been drinking hadn’t been bad, but normal water? Filtered water? He didn’t quite moan but he was close, he wouldn’t deny it.
When he opened his eyes, Tango was smiling at him softly. There were dark circles under his eyes. They were raw at the edges, like he’d been scrubbing tears away. “Grian, Joel, and Fwhip are all in their own rooms. They’ve got people checking in on them, too. Uh, Mumbo, Scar, Impulse, and Pearl. Lizzie, Etho, Sausage. Pixl, maybe a few other people. I think everyone else has been in the waiting room or hallways, sleeping or stuff. Uh, some of us— uh, the Life series folks—we’ve all been making thingamajigs for you all. Impulse and Martyn have come in to check on you a couple times.” His eyes flicked across Jimmy’s face and he sat up, eyes wide. Reaching out, he cupped Jimmy’s face, brushed a thumb along his cheek. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Are you hurting? Do you need more—they have a thing, I swear I can find it, I just—”
Reaching up, Jimmy wiped at his face. Oh. I’m crying, he realized, sucking in a breath. Now that he was thinking about it—he hadn’t even been thinking about it, they’d been constantly getting splashed by sea water and he’d just gotten used to sea spray, he guessed—his throat was tight. His face was all hot. Sniffing, he stared at his fingers. “I’m fine, I just—” He gasped, choking on his breath. Looking up, he asked, “Can I—can I have a hug?”’
Tango’s face crumpled. “Yeah, of course.” Pushing himself up, he settled on the edge of the bed and pulled Jimmy into a hug. Jimmy sank into it, burying his face in the side of Tango’s neck.
Tango gave him a gentle squish, holding him closer. Tearing up more, Jimmy reached up with shaking hands. He buried his fingers in Tango’s shirt, gasped for breath. He was just so—he needed Tango to—he wasn’t sure if he wanted Tango and him to become the same person or if he was just desperate for touch. His skin was on fire. Sure, he and Joel, Grian, and Fwhip hadn’t exactly been shoving one another off the raft or anything, but they weren’t—they weren’t cuddling or anything unless it was a cold night. Even the whole compressions and resuscitation that had gone on had probably been the most physical touch Jimmy had gotten. There was just more they needed to focus on. Survival, for instance.
Sobbing, Jimmy pulled Tango closer. He returned the grasp, running a hand up into Jimmy’s hair. With a low whine, Jimmy grabbed him tighter. The hand in his hair wandering down over his neck, rubbed at a knot in his shoulder and across his back. His jaw hurt, his skin burned, he didn’t even realize how much everything had ached until Tango was holding him.
He must have fallen asleep in Tango’s arms, while the man was hugging him and he cried his eyes out.
When he woke up, his throat and mouth were dry, and he was lying down again while Tango rubbed his hand across Jimmy’s forearm and down to his fingers. The touch burned, sent sparks across his skin. One of the other chairs in the room was taken up by someone else. When Jimmy turned to look, he found—
“Scar.” Green eyes met his, and Scar smiled. Next to him, also asleep but in a hospital wheelchair, was Grian. He was leaning against Scar’s shoulder, head tilted to the side and mouth open as he snored. “How’re Joel and Fwhip?”
“Worry about yourself.” Scar teased gently, reaching over to brush Jimmy’s hair from his face. Tango kept on rubbing Jimmy’s arm. “But they’re alive. They’re fine.”
“How bad was it?” He croaked.
“I—” Scar and Tango exchanged a glance over him. Glancing between them, Jimmy waited. Then, Tango nodded. Scar turned to him. “All four of you were pretty malnourished, starved, and dehydrated when you got picked up. Being stranded on a raft makes it pretty hard to get proper diet, you know?”
Jimmy nodded.
Scar took a slow breath, then continued, “You and Joel both ended up with fluid in your lungs. You had more than he did, and then your lung started collapsing, and one of your ribs was broken badly enough to puncture your other lung. There was also fluid all in your…” Scar gestured to his chest and stomach. With a swallow, he added, “You just got unlucky.” Nodding, Jimmy felt Tango clutch his hand, their fingers tangling together.
“How long has it been since we got picked up?”
“Not too long. Only about a week.” Tango replied.
“You should have seen Grian and Joel, they had some decent sunburns and started peeling like lizards.” Scar laughed weakly, the joke landing flatter than a pancake. Smiling, Jimmy tried to reach out to him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m…really tired.”
“You had some pretty major surgery. I think they still have some tubes in your ribs and stuff.” Tango rubbed his thumb across Jimmy’s knuckles. “Get some rest, sweetheart. We’ve all got your back.”
Smiling at him, Jimmy nodded and closed his eyes, hearing Tango and Scar talk quietly above him.