Our Treasure (Jim Hawkins x Female Reader) [COMPLETED]

Seven

We have a small fire that night. I sit by it long after everyone's gone to sleep, feeding dry pieces of wood into it and listening to the crackling that the flames make. It's quiet except for the snores of the crew, and the odd creak of a giant mushroom in the light breeze.

I can see the building on the hill from here, silhouetted against the dusty backdrop of the atmosphere. I wonder what Jim's doing right now, what he's thinking about. The treasure? John's threat? Me? If he's thinking about me, I wonder what he's thinking. Does he hate me? Is there a possibility that after all this we could talk, work it out? I don't know. 

It's probably only a few hours from dawn when there's a metallic clatter to my right, on the opposite side of our camp from the longboat. I look towards the sound, listening carefully. There's the murmur of voices, too low and far away for me to distinguish properly, then footsteps and a grunt. Whoever it is, they're going around the side of our camp.

I squint in the dimness, making out movement behind the rock that John is leaning on. I stand, and the movement stops. In the firelight, I can make out the same skinny person who was inside the building, a blob who I guess is Morph, and Jim's brown hair casting a shadow over his face. The skinny person, I realise, isn't actually a person. It's a robot.

"What are you doing?" I hiss, glancing at the sleeping crew.

"Why aren't you asleep?" he counters, also looking at the crew.

"Not tired," I say, stifling a yawn. At Jim's raised eyebrow I add: "why do you care, anyway?"

"I don't," he answers stiffly, "it's just inconvenient."

"Fine, just pretend I'm asleep then." I sit back down, poking disconsolately at the coals of the fire.

"Is it too much to ask you not to tell anyone where we've gone?" he asks after a minute.

"I don't know where you're going, or why," I mutter, "so I couldn't even if I wanted to."

A sigh, then soft footsteps and the squeaking of rusty wheels, followed by a few thuds and the soft whir of an engine. At this, I look up to see the longboat lifting smoothly into the air, humming quietly.

"Shit," I say, standing up. "Jim!" I whisper-shout, "Jim stop!"

He doesn't hear me, they're already too far gone.

John, however, does hear me. He sits up, following my gaze to the longboat and beyond it, the ship. 

"C'mon," he says, getting up off the ground and looking towards to the building which is only a few hundred metres away.

We wake the rest of the crew, ignoring their grumbles and complaints, and set off across the flat plain, scrambling up the stepped hills that the building rests upon. We slip through the doorway almost soundlessly and survey the room.

It's filled with old pieces of machinery and other junk, and the inside is just as run down and lichen covered as the outside. In one corner, two figures are slumped together, their breathing deep and even. The light from John's eye glints off a pair of round glasses.

"Tie 'em up," the cyborg orders, gesturing at the doctor and Captain. Two of the crew rush to obey, being careful not to wake the two of them. They drag them to one side, gagging them both.

Dr Doppler wakes up first, but his indignant protests are muffled by the cloth across his face. Captain Amelia doesn't sleep much longer, except she tries to wriggle of her hold.

"She's injured," I observe, pointing to a sling on her arm. "Be careful."

"Keep 'em quiet," John orders, settling down against the rock where they were sleeping, "we just 'ave to wait now. The boy'll bring us the map."

I spot a ledge on the wall that has a good view of the entire room and climb up to it, crouching at the edge.

We don't have to wait around for long. After a few minutes, there's a bit of clattering and a few whispered curses. I turn towards the sound to see Jim hauling the robot up out of a hole in the floor, the eerie blue light emanating from it making him look somewhat otherworldly. He stands over the hole for a few seconds more, staring at the map in his hand before jumping down and running across the room.

"Doc," Jim's excited voice echoes in the large space. "Doc, wake up! I got the map." He skids to his knees, holding out the sphere to where John is sitting.

"Fine work, Jimbo." He says, leaning forwards out of the shadow and taking the map from Jim's outstretched hand. "Fine work indeed."

Jim looks around frantically as several of the crew advance, then makes to run away. I leap off the ledge, landing in a crouch before him, blocking his way out. I stand upright, ready to grab him if he tries to go around me.

"(Y/N), move." He says, not taking his eyes off my face.

"No." My gaze flicks over his shoulder to where Meltdown and Hands are getting closer. They grab his arms, holding him still even as he struggles frantically.

"You're just like me, Jimbo." John says, coming over. "You hates to lose." He laughs, stepping back and pressing at the sphere. He switches tools, holding it at different angles and trying different ways to open it. None of them work. "Open it." he orders, passing it to the boy.

Jim doesn't do anything.

"I'd get busy." The cyborg holds up his arm, switching the function on the end to a gun and pointing it at Dr Doppler and Captain Amelia.

Jim glanced between the two of them, Doppler is nodding his head frantically and the Captain is shaking hers. The gun clicks, and reluctantly Jim presses the sphere in a few places, twists it, then steps back. Greenish yellow light pours forth, forming the shape of the planet in front of us.

"Holy shit!" I gasp, staring at the hologram.

"All the powers that be, would you look!" John exclaims in awe.

The planet shape changes, dissolving into a single line which zips out of the building and around the side, pulsing fluorescent green in the dark.

"Tie 'im up," John orders. "Leave 'im with the others until we—" he stops as the path disappears, zipping back into the sphere in Jim's hands.

"You want the map?" he says, "you're taking me too."

"Just take them all," I say, crossing my arms. A few of the crew give me odd looks, so I add: "I mean, hostages, right?"

John nods, gesturing for them to do as I suggested. Jim is staring at me, like he can't work out if what I just did is a good or a bad thing.