OctoLost - Lost x Octonauts AU

Pilot - Part 2

-Summary-

A band of survivors try searching for rescue.

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This chapter includes:
Substance abuse/addiction
Smoking/use of cigarettes
Mild violence
Non-graphic animal death

Please do not read if you are sensitive to such topics.

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"Anything?" Kwazii asked, peeking around Barnacles's side.
"You keep on asking if there's anything."
"Well, 'scuse me for being desperate," He frowned. "But before the pilot was snatched from the cockpit and got 'is face torn right off, he did say that no one was going to find us unless we... we get that thing working."
Barnacles glanced at him, raising a brow.
"So." Kwazii ruffled his jacket. "Is there anything?"
"No."
Kwazii sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He then yelped loudly when Tweak tapped him on the shoulder.
"Christ, Tweak!"
"Sorry," She said, not sorry. "I wanted to ask. What were you doing in the bathroom?"
He put his hands on his hips and stared at the sandy ground.
"I thought it was obvious. I was puking me guts out." Then he laughed, "The one thing I contributed to the trip."
"No. We're glad you came, Kwazii."
"Aye?"
"Yeah."

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Kwazii put his hand under his chin, anxiously tapping his ring on the flight tray. His eyes darted from place to place, taking quick, shallow breaths as he continued fidgeting.
A flight attendant stopped next to him, looking at the young man with worried eyes.
"You all right, sir?"
Kwazii forced a smile. "Yeah. I'm good. Thanks."
"Can I get you some water? Or..."
"I'm fine." He snapped, irritated. "Thank ye."
The flight attendant slowly nodded, but she was unconvinced.
Kwazii continued being a nervous wreck for a while, until he looked down the aisle to see the same flight attendant talking to the other staff members, pointing towards his seat. They spotted him staring and abruptly started towards him. Kwazii didn't dare waste a second. He bolted.
Looking terrified as he shuffled through the aisle, Kwazii almost bumped into a burly white-haired man who leaned across the aisle.
" 'Scuse me," Kwazii muttered.

"Guess he really had to go."

Kwazii frantically tried a bathroom door, but it was locked. He turned back to see the staff closing in on him.
"Excuse me?" The flight attendant called, growing angry. "Sir, excuse me!"
He continued down the aisle, but he had to grab the head of a chair and stabilise himself when turbulence hit. The flight attendant briskly stopped, reaching for an intercom panel.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing light turbulence. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts."
Kwazii found a bathroom door at the front of the cabin and locked himself in. The trembling cabin wasn't helping his cause. He hurriedly slipped his shoe off and picked a small plastic bag out, filled to the brim with a brown substance.
Knock knock.
"Sir, are you all right?"
"Just a minute," Kwazii replied, shakily opening the bag and making a small mound of the stuff on the bathroom sink.
"I'm going to have to ask you to open the door."
"Just a minute." He repeated, this time in more of a whisper. He sighed in relief as the bitter taste hit the back of his nasal cavity and slumped against the mirror. A lopsided grin crept up onto his face, gurgles of small laughter bubbling in his throat as the effects began taking their place.
Knock knock knock knock.
"I'm sorry sir, but I'm asking you to open the door, please."
Kwazii, still not fully back to reality, slid the packet off the sink and glanced miserably at the toilet bowl as he dropped it straight down. He buried his dread and attempted to console himself.
You can always get more later. It's easy.
He tried to steady his hands as he warily reached for the handle.
You can just get more.
"Sir. Open this door now."
The hull of the plane gave a tremendous squeal as Kwazii was sent crashing into the roof. The plane quaked uncontrollably, and as he fell back down his hands slipped over the door handle and he tumbled out. He yelped as a suitcase struck his shoulder, barely registering a food cart heading straight for him. He rolled sideways, the cart missing him by a hair. Clawing his way to a seat, he messily uprighted himself and snatched a quivering oxygen mask, desperately grabbing a seatbelt on and bracing for whatever was next.