Tides of deception ✺ Outlander/Stephen Bonnet Fanfic

♤26. A sense of solidarity

The morning after the celebration found Justin working with another crew mate, scrubbing the deck under the steady rhythm of the ship slicing through waves on its course back to London. The task was mundane, almost meditative, and he found it kept his hands busy while letting his mind wander. Bit by bit, memories from before this madness returned to him in clearer detail.

It had been a night out near Chicago, in a small town with a woman he'd met at a bar. They'd shared drinks, laughter, and an intimate moment. He'd been hazy, the alcohol fogging his thoughts as he walked her back to her apartment on the far side of a forest trail. Lost in the darkness and still buzzed, he'd spotted the stones with that strange, low hum pulling him forward. Maybe it was curiosity-or maybe just drunken carelessness-that led him to reach out and touch the cold surface. The next thing he remembered was a jarring plunge, tumbling through time, and then waking in a dense forest on the outskirts of London. He remembered the first sight of the unfamiliar skyline and thinking he must have truly gone mad. Maybe someone had spiked his drink, he'd thought, or maybe he'd finally drunk himself into hallucination.

The raid had been a wake-up call. He'd barely registered the seriousness of his situation until Declan-a pirate with a grin as sharp as his blade-shoved a musket and a dagger into his hands. He'd thought it was all some historical re-enactment, a strange kind of fever dream. But the weight of the weapons, the crunch of old leather under his boots, the sharpness of the blade-it had all started to feel unsettlingly real.

The raid itself was chaos. He'd watched Stephen's hands stained in red, Declan laughing like a madman, and then Justin had found himself facing men in a fight to the death. He remembered pulling the trigger to save the captain's wife, feeling a mixture of shock and pride as the shot hit its mark. The loot-gold, jewels, supplies, prisoners-all of it had hammered home that he wasn't just in a strange story but something terrifyingly real.

It was surreal, like he'd stepped out of the panels of one of his own comic books. He'd always created stories, from the first pen stroke to the plot twists, but never had he imagined living out one of his own outlandish tales. He could still feel his pen tucked into the back pocket of his old jeans, a gift from his friend, B., with a gem on the end. Oddly, the gem was missing since he'd woken up in London, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it had played a part in whatever pulled him here.

Justin glanced around at the men moving about the deck, their old-fashioned clothing, weapons, and scars marking them as truly of this time. He hadn't been successful in life back home, not in any traditional sense. No lasting relationships, no stable career, only a few close friends. He'd often felt as if something was missing, drifting through life in a haze. Yet here he was, having saved the captain's wife-a feat that gave him an unfamiliar sense of pride.

His gaze shifted to Maria. She seemed out of place, like him. Her tattoos weren't like the faded ink of the pirates; they were sharper, modern, with a style that didn't fit the century they were in. He wanted to approach her, to find out if she might also be displaced from another time, but he hesitated. He had no idea what customs were at play on this ship and had no interest in provoking the captain's wrath. He'd seen Stephen's bloody hands and that devilish smile. Whatever strange kindness the man had shown by letting him stay, Justin knew better than to take it for granted.

But the need to talk to someone was gnawing at him. He could only keep this to himself for so long, and if anyone knew this place, it was Declan.

Maybe, he decided, it was time to speak with the madman.

✺

Justin approached Declan with caution, unsure of how to explain everything on his mind without sounding unhinged. Declan was leaning against the ship's railing, watching the waves roll by, his dark hair catching the wind and giving him a devil-may-care appearance. Justin took a deep breath and steeled himself.