A Royal Sovereign

Chapter 12 - Peace at Last

3rd Person POV

The Pacific Ocean

The wind howled peacefully. The countless worries of the countless shipgirls were blown away by the tranquil breeze; their stress thrown away and forgotten about even if only for a short moment. Exuberant cheers filled the air as all celebrated be it with alcohol or just spending time together without the need to worry about one's survival.

The cheers and celebrations were slightly covered by aircraft engines as they landed back onto the decks of their respective mother carriers; the sound of their engines subsiding and the sound of rubber tires scraping on the wooden and metal decks replacing them, albeit far quieter than the engines and propellers that preceded them. But even that couldn't disturb the atmosphere, most ignoring it.

But there always was an exception. 

Cleveland was certainly not celebrating, much to the displeasure of her sisters. But despite being the lead ship of her class, she was far more worried about the figure lying before her on the bloodstained stretcher; small drops of blood falling as they accumulated in the center of the fabric's depression. It was a horrifying sight for Cleveland and Belfast too.

Sovereign, the strongest battleship in the fleet was in a critical condition.

Third-degree burns marred most of his skin, especially his arms, legs, and torso. Deep gashes and lacerations covered his body aplenty with fresh blood still pooling in them. It was a great stroke of luck that no vital arteries were severed nor even damaged.

But the most concerning injury were the exposed bones. It ranged from only the slightest white penetrating the skin to direct bone-marrow-to-air contact. His left leg was disheveled; his femur fractured and his tibia broken and completely out of place, impaling the muscle and skin of his lower leg. His torso wasn't much better, several ribs exposed to the air.

It was only because of Belfast, who had some medical training, that he still had any significant amount of blood left ― thick, bloodied bandages wrapped taut around the most severe injuries, the bandages around the bones being noticeably a deeper crimson. And blood was not the only thing that stained the tourniquets. Wet stains of tears marred the already horrifying sight.

Cleveland shed such an amount of tears that she had none left to fall. She was comforted by her sisters, her head and subsequently her face dug deep into Denver's collar. Her only comfort was that his condition was stable. Not improving much, but it was not getting worse. Thankfully, they did not need to contend with any severe infections as ships were only vulnerable to the flu, much to the annoyance of every shipgirl.  

Her sisters were also affected by this; namely Montpellier. Seeing her older sister, her idol, crying in such a vulnerable state affected her greatly. The happiest they have ever seen her was with Sovereign, and Cleveland's distress and near hysteria only proved that fact further.

"Cleveland..." Denver murmured as she embraced her older sister. "...It'll be ok..." Denver and Columbia certainly weren't as dependent on Cleveland, but they still adored her and truly loved her.

Cleveland could only sniffle in response.

It was horrible for them to see this scene unfold. Not only were they separated from Cleveland for a week. Not only did they think she was dead or was being tortured. But now, they couldn't even lean on her shoulder; instead, their role model was leaning on them.

...

The fleet arrived at Pearl Harbor.  Many ships were anchored outside due to the base being incapable of supporting such numbers. Mooring lines were tossed, gangways lowered and extended, and ships were stopped.