A Pirate's Life For Me

London Bridge...

I wake to a screaming headache.

"Rise and shine, freeloader."

Groaning, I sit myself partway upright, holding my hand in front of my eyes to drown out the light. The curtains are open, the sun shining straight into my face, Declan doing something at the table to my right. I attempt to shift my legs, but the blanket moves, tangled up between them. With a sigh and a squint I drop my arm to pull my legs out. The blanket is tucked in around me. I can't tuck myself in, sober.

"About time y' woke up. Snorin' like a freight train." Declan calls out, voice booming through my ears and rattling around in my skull. I hadn't noticed before, but Colette is sitting beside him, eating a slice of bread, pointing at whatever the older man is doing.

"Shut up, ya big oaf," I grumble, swinging my legs over the side of the couch. My voice is raspy. I must've been singing in the bar again. "What time is it?"

"Late."

Gee, thanks, that clears everything up.

A body crosses through my glare.

"Mornin', Jackson," I yawn, scratching the side of my head.

He turns, jumpy, and gives me a startled look before humming in response and continuing to the window. I watch him stretch for a minute.

...Warmth settles around me, the blanket pulling up to my chin. He pats my foot. "Just sleep. Okay?" I turn my head away, nodding into the cushions. He's still mad at me. I don't blame him for...

"You tucked me in, right?" I have to clear my throat to rid myself of the leftover sleepy-husk thing, but by the time I look back at him, he's frozen in place, hands wound around something in front of him. "Thanks."

The birds chirp in the trees.

"Don't—" He pauses, clears his throat. I raise an eyebrow. It sounded like he had a bird stuck in his throat. "Don't do it again."

Yeah, wasn't there something about him being mad? And Colette too, weren't they upset or something?

I dunno. I can't really remember.

"Anyways," Delcan rises with a grunt, "it's off to work with you two."

I open my mouth to interject, but Jackson sneezes before I can get anything out.

Declan continues as if nothing has happened. "Col, you's in the back again, I'm gettin' a shipment. Jack, you's gardening."

"Gardening?" Three voices echo in the cabin, six eyes staring at each other in mild surprise.

"Yes, gardening," he growls in response. "Got an issue with that?"

"Well—" Jackson stops. This is a first. "I was just...is there any way for Colette and I to work together?"

Delcan turns and gives him a long, cold stare, but to the kid's credit he doesn't shrivel away. "No. You start when you's ready."

Frankly, I'm astonished that Jackson made an attempt to control his temper. And succeeded.

Why? Did Declan have a talk with them or something? Or did he finally pull his head out of his ass?

"I can work, too," I volunteer, scratching the side of my head again. I slept on my hair funny.

Declan heaves a heavy sigh before waving his hand in agreement and pointing at Jackson, slamming the door behind him on the way out.

"What does that mean?" Jackson mutters, probably to himself.