Bones in the Ocean by bunflower

Chapter 9

"Guess I should've known it wouldn't be that easy."

"Ehh, can't exactly fault you for tryin'."

"We're gonna have to do this the hard way, huh?"

"Yep. Cursed island, here we come."

"Guess your 'one little trip' might be a bit longer than you planned, eh, mate?"

"...Bruh, I've been scammed."

"...Techno?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't help but feel like I made a mistake."

"What do you mean?"

"The locket. I shouldn't have tried to throw it away like that."

"Hey, it was worth a shot. No harm, no foul."

"...Maybe."

"Somethin' wrong?"

"Just a bad feeling, mate."

-

The ginger-haired boy-the one that washed up with Wilbur-is back.

It's not the first time they've seen him since his rescue. He slinks about the boat like a sly fox, sticking close to Wilbur's side for the most part. He seems friendly enough-bright and eager, willing to lend a hand as needed, and able to strike up a conversation with just about anyone.

He has an odd fascination with Phil, though.

Right now, he's watching Phil with an odd look in his eye. He stands near Ranboo, peering out from behind him as if he can somehow hide himself from view. His brows are furrowed-though not in anger, but more-confusion? Curiosity, perhaps? He's behaving rather like an animal, shying away from prying eyes yet maintaining the tiniest little glitter of mischief in his gaze. He fits right in with Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo, all three of whom have apparently 'adopted' the boy into their ranks. Hence why they're all currently above deck, levying their pistols and boasting about a shoot-out that Tubbo is almost guaranteed to win. They're all focused on the game-setting wagers and egging each other on with taunts and teases-save for their newest addition, who can't seem to take his eyes off of Phil.

And Phil notices him, too.

With a sigh, his first mate finally turns toward the boy, and gives the slightest little wave.

"Hi, mate." His voice is soft-that same tone he always used with Ranboo when the boy first joined the Argo's crew.

The boy-Fundy, if Technoblade remembers right-smiles, bright and wide, and waves back. If he had a tail, it'd be wagging, for the way he rocks on his heels and straightens up with a twinkle in his eyes. He looks as though he wants to say something, but then there's a commotion as Tommy drags someone else up from below deck amidst teasing and laughter.

It's Wilbur.

The man has been healing well after finally waking up. He's been able to safely roam the ship on his own, his recovery excelling and his stubbornness even more so. Much to Phil's evident displeasure, he's made fast friends with the crew's younger members-particularly Tommy, who clings to him like a second skin, watching eagerly for his approval at every turn. Even now, as Tommy leads Wilbur toward the group, he's watching the taller man with a hopeful glint that makes him look so young and childish-like an eager little brother up to no good.

"I don't know about this," Wilbur says with a smile as he's brought to the center of the group. "I'm not exactly the best shot-I've always been more of a talker than a fighter, if I'm quite honest."

Phil makes a soft noise of affirmation beside him, although Technoblade doesn't think the man did it consciously. His friend is rigid beside him-the shoulder that brushes his own tense and unyielding. He and his son, to Technoblade's knowledge, have scarcely seen one another since Wilbur first woke up-let alone spoken. The tension is palpable, and the hollowed look in Phil's eyes makes fury spark anew in his gut. He wants to wipe that smug smirk off of Wilbur's face.