The pirate boy (Frerard, Petekey)

Chapter four - Gerard is a paramecium and Frank is a little bitch

Chapter four - Gerard is a paramecium and Frank is a little bitch

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"A dame that knows the ropes isn't likely to get tied up."

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We were due to reach port in only a few hours, and I hadn't spoken to Jamia yet. I wanted to say goodbye to her, but I had no idea where she was or if I would even be allowed to speak to her. I doubted it. And unfortunately, the new pants that had been given to me by a rather amused Gerard made any type of sneaking around– and in fact, walking– extremely impractical.

"How on earth do you move in these?" I had asked him, straining to bend my knee.

He simply replied that it was an art, a skill that people were born with, and I just didn't seem to possess it. He then proceeded to demonstrate his great dexterity in the area by kicking a leg up then swiftly dropping to his knees with a superior smirk on his face. "Sorry, honey," he had drawled, "but it just ain't something that can be taught. Savvy?"

I decided to try to avoid communication with him at all costs after that.

Of course, it was just fate that he was the one who had been assigned the job of guarding the key to the prisoners' cell. For some absurd reason, Jamia had been deposited in the cargo hold with the pirates from the Aurora, while the captain seemed to have the intention of integrating me into the ship's routine and turning me into a fellow crew member. It was strange logic, since I had no discernible talents whatsoever and despised pirates, but I didn't question it. If I was staying alive and Jamia was getting out of here safely, I didn't have a problem.

And besides, after some thought, I didn't really have a reason to go home. I would be wed to Emily, I would become a naval officer, and that would be my life. At least there was a possibility of an interesting life if I stayed on this ship. So, I decided, I didn't have a problem with staying.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. I did have just one very tiny problem. In order to get the key to the cell Jamia was being held in, I would have to talk to Gerard. I didn't want to have to talk to that damned conceited idiot again. I supposed I could just try and break into the cell.

I recalled back to my time at home. A number of times, a rogue maid had tried to pick my lock while I was sleeping in order to take the gold from my dresser. Of course, they'd all failed and been caught by one of the higher servants rather quickly, but this was a pirate ship. Breaking and entering was normal behaviour for these people. I was certain no one would even bat an eyelid.

Oh, how wrong I was. Five minutes later, I was tied to a table leg again.

And not with rope. With one Gerard Way's tie.

Gerard sighed. "Frankie, Frankie, Frankie. Did you really think you could get past me?"

"Yes," I said. "Why else would I have tried?"

"Look," he said indignantly. "I'm the guy they send to pick the locks. I know how to break into a place, and I know how to make sure that you can't break into a place. There's a reason I've got the key."

"So doing high kicks in obscenely tight britches isn't your only talent?"

Gerard shot me a look. "If you're gonna be smart then I'm not going to help you."

I frowned. "You were going to help me?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "You're part of the crew now, if not in the lowest position on the ship. I'm first mate. I ought to be sharing my wisdom with you."

"Wisdom," I snorted. "Ostentatious overconfidence, more like."

"Excuse me?" he said incredulously. "Do you want my fucking help or not? Cos if you're going to keep bitching at me then I won't help you find your little girlfriend, savvy?"

I decided to take the girlfriend remark as a compliment, and nodded. "Uh, savvy?" I repeated tentatively, hoping that I was using the word in the right context.

"Good."

"So you're going to give me the keys?" I asked hopefully.

"Hell, no. I'm gonna teach you how to pick a lock."

"Does it have to be you that teaches me?"

"What?"

"I'm not at all opposed to learning to pick a lock if it will be of use to me later in life, but I would much prefer it if James was the one to teach me."

Gerard looked a little offended. "Why?"

"How do I put this nicely?" I mumbled. There wasn't a really any way to go about it but just flat out saying it. I sighed. "You're delusional and strange, and I hate to say it, but I'd rather favour spending my time with someone sane."

Gerard's expression hardened, and he turned on his heel and marched off.

"No! Gerard, wait!" I called out.

He paused. He took a few steps back into the room. "What?" he asked carefully.

I squirmed and strained to pull my wrists from their bindings, but the tie remained knotted. "Would you do me a favour and untie me before you go?"

He snarled and stormed off, muttering 'bitch' under his breath as he disappeared from sight. Damn it. I should have sucked up to the bastard when I had the chance. I had just lost my best hope of seeing Jamia again.

----

I wasn't sure whether to take it as a good thing or a bad thing when I heard men screaming about how the prisoners had escaped and we were under attack.

This would give me an opportunity to see Jamia, but it would also open up the possibility of me getting stabbed to death by another crazed pirate. I was a subpar fighter as it was, and I was currently tied to a table leg, so my chances of survival if someone did choose to pick me as a target looked discouragingly low.

The thumps of men jumping from ship to ship disturbed the boat's balance and the sound of crazed screeching soaked through the floor of the deck, increasing in volume and crushing me under the weight of the sound. I was fucking scared now. I pulled at the tie and squirmed and kicked at the table but I was still trapped.

Now I was really starting to wish I had sucked up to Gerard.

"Gerard," I called desperately, hoping that he was still down below the deck. "I'm sorry! Please come back."

There was no response.

I tried James instead. "James! Ahem, Dewees?"

"Frank?" he called back in confusion. I couldn't tell where his voice was coming from. "What do you want? We need to go up and help with the mess."

"Yeah. Yes, of course. But– could you– maybe please untie me first?"

"Where the hell are you?"

"I'm down by the prisoners' room."

"You're not in with the prisoners, are you?"

"No. I'm just. I'm tied up outside."

I heard a distant sigh, followed by footsteps, and soon James materialised out of the dank corridor, a rather bemused expression on his face and a dagger tucked under his belt. He stopped a few feet away from me and stared at me for a while, his head tilted a little to the side and a furrow in his brow. He paused before speaking. "Is that Gerard's tie?"

"Yes!" Gerard's voice was muted through the walls of his room, but it was distinctly him.

"Gerard, pray tell," James called. "What exactly possessed you to tie your fellow crew member to a table with your tie?"

"He was being a little bitch," Gerard huffed.

"I thought you liked Frank. You were the one who asked us to keep him. What happened?"

"He turned out to be a little bitch!"

"Real nice vocabulary you got there," I said dryly.

"Smarty," Gerard snapped back.

"Oh, give it up. You're just a narcissistic little paramecium."

"I don't know what the fuck a paramecium is, but I can tell from your perfectly self satisfied tone of voice that I'm not one!" he hissed.

"I can't believe you, you're acting like children," James said incredulously. "Just break it up. There are people actually fighting up there," he nodded up at the ship's deck, "and you guys are just bitching at each other? Real mature."

"I'm sorry, I'm normally a lot more rational," I insisted. "I'm just currently tied to a table leg."

"Oh, for god's sake." James knelt down at my side and pulled his dagger out to cut the knot.

"You better not be cutting my tie," Gerard yelled. There was a muffled crashing sound from his room, and within a few seconds he had hurried over to us. He pushed James out of the way. "Nobody damages my tie," he said in a low voice. He started work on untying me, very carefully and methodically.

"Yeah, god forbid someone hurts the tie," James said sarcastically. "But when your crew's out there getting killed then it's fine to hide in your room."

Gerard glared at James for a moment, then dropped his head down again to carry on working through the knot. His stringy black hair fell over his eyes, and shaking it away seemed to have almost no effect, but his focus stayed on the tie.

After what must have been a few minutes work, Gerard snatched the tie away. My arms were finally free, and I pulled myself to my feet and stretched, rubbing at my wrists gratuitously as if they were sore in an attempt to guilt Gerard. The tie had, in actuality, been very soft, and hadn't even left a mark, but I was intent on making him feel bad.

"There you go, you got your tie back unharmed," James said. "Happy now?"

"Yes," Gerard mumbled huffily.

"Can we go help the rest of the crew now?"

Gerard rolled his eyes. "Yes."

I had no idea how to fight or if I was even expected to, but I supposed that if I was going to live on this ship I was going to have to learn at some point. I grabbed a spare candlestick from the table and followed Gerard and James to the stairs.

"If that tie's so special to you, why'd you use it to tie Frank up, anyway?" James asked as we walked.

"I was annoyed in the moment, it was all I had on me," Gerard said.

James was going to question more, but then he caught sight of the candlestick in my hand. He stopped. "Frank, are you actually going to attempt to fight fully armed deranged pirates with a candlestick?"

"Um," I said tentatively. "Yes?"

He stared at me with a rather discouraging expression of half disbelief and half pity.

"That wasn't the right answer, was it?"

"Saint Mary," he said, shaking his head. "You're gonna need a whole lot of training."