A Pirate's Life For Me

...Is Falling...

A/N: it's long, but I tried

"No."

Frustration sparks in my chest and I hobble around the table between us, leaning on chairs to propel myself after him. "Come on, Declan, they're wearing your rags! There is no scenario that I can get them to safety, and therefor off your hands, while they look like homeless vermin!"

Dec angles his face away from me, beard bristling. "T'ain't enough I grant y'all shelter, t'ain't enough y'all's eatin' my food, t'ain't enough y'all's raisin' questions, no, now I's gotta pay for y'all's wardrobe."

His English all but disappears when he's offended.

"Dec, you're the one who agreed to this, don't be blaming me for your problems," I grumble, leaning on the counter as he puts glasses away behind it.

An eyebrow raises and he glares at me. "You wanna say that again, boy?"

I shudder involuntarily at how cold his voice has gotten. "L-Look, just pay me for what I've worked. Then you won't lose anything you weren't planning on losing."

He laughs, a great bellow from somewhere deep in his chest, slamming a glass down in front of me and filling it with a thick liquid. "Oh, right, pay you fer those seven hours playin' with the hose."

Ouch.

With a nod at my scrunched shoulders, he nudges the glass toward me. "Drink. It's from Maggie."

With a scowl, I down the glass in one go, fighting with my gag reflex for a moment before glaring back at him. "I'm raising questions, am I? Who's the one talking to the community about me?"

Declan's back jiggles with another silent laugh as he screws with his bottles on the wall behind the counter. "The answer is no, Caspian."

My scowl deepens. "We'll buy you groceries."

He doesn't hesitate. "Callum's already out with a list."

"It's barely sunrise!"

A bushy eyebrow lowers over his angry eyes. "There was a time when you's up at the buttcrack o' dawn yerself."

I blow out a breath sharply through my nose. This is going nowhere. "Then just pay me for the weeks ahead."

"I don't do advances."

He used to. Probably isn't just because I asked. "Then just—"

"Use ours."

I almost trip over a stool. I hadn't heard Jackson come in.

Declan heaves a sigh and rolls his eyes away from me. "You, too, Jack?"

"Colette and I, at least, have worked. We deserve some pay for what we've done, and if we work the next few days for nothing, so be it. We need clothing, and I'm sure we can get you something in return. There is an entire marketplace, after all." He sounds sarcastic and grouchy, but his eyes keep scanning the floor at his feet, hands limp at his sides.

With another humongous sigh, Declan rummages through his coveralls pocket and slaps a half-empty coin pouch on the counter. "Y'all best be back before dinner. And Caspian, you best find Callum and tell 'im I need me some beans."

"'Tell 'im I need me some beans,'" I mimic, limping down the stairs at the front of the bar. "I'll tell him something, alright."

"I'll get Colette," Jackson mumbles, splitting off to the left as we near the corner of the building. I watch him move away, shoulders sloped downwards, hands in his pockets, kicking at rocks in his path. Something's wrong with him, and for once I don't think it's me. He's less adversarial, which is to be expected if he thinks I killed someone on purpose, but if that were the case he wouldn't want to be near me at all. He's distracted, which is frankly worrisome. Now is not the time to get distracted. I don't want them to go with me, but I already know there's no use in arguing.