Children Of The Sky (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 2)

Chapter 59

Jack was told he'd been out for three days when he woke. He was in Cassar, he learned later that day; Rook and Mick had brought him to the infirmary there when he hadn't woken after the first day. The healers had been baffled; he had no bruises and no scars, but every one of his bones had been broken and fused again somehow. Jack hadn't said anything when they'd told him that; he knew. The memory of the pain, and the aching emptiness that haunted his body, were reminder enough of how it'd happened.

Mick was the first to find out he was awake; at Bel's urging, he'd stayed in Cassar with Jack until he woke. The older man dropped the mug he'd been holding when he saw Jack sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. Jack hadn't even been able to look at him; it hurt too much, and not in a way he was at all familiar with. He'd ended up on the floor in Mick's arms, sobbing so hard he couldn't breathe. Mick didn't ask any questions; he didn't say anything at all.

It was another full day of numb half-awareness and being forced to eat before Mick came in and told him the crew wanted to see him. Jack agreed reluctantly; he couldn't stop most of them if he tried, nor could Mick. Better to go along with it than risk upsetting the already-busy staff.

He was able to stand and greet them when they trickled in through the door one by one, quiet and reverent, as if afraid of what they'd find. Jack looked at each of them as they stood there--Johnson, Kell, Trip, Byrne...all of them, familiar faces, loyal to a fault. They'd all followed him out of a dungeon, followed the hope of a better life, and he'd been able to promise it, then. He'd had the Storm inside him, an ally and a partner. What could he give these men now, any of them? The raids would be next to impossible.

Johnson, a short, lithely built young man Jack had freed after he'd been imprisoned for petty theft, stood up straight as a rod and saluted sharply when a tear slipped down his captain's cheek. The others followed suit in a heartbeat, and Jack put his face in his hands.

"Mick told us you've lost the Storm, Cap'n," Johnson said quietly, and Jack looked up at him, vision swimming. "We're here to make sure you're all right, and to tell you we'll be staying anyways. You've done a bloody good thing for every one of us and never asked anything in return but a bit of honest work. We'd all be honored to keep it up."

Jack made a choked sound that was something between a laugh and a sob and ran a hand over his head. "Dreail, I don't deserve any of you," he said, unused to hearing his own voice. He hadn't said much the past few days. Straightening up and squaring his shoulders, he rubbed his eyes and gave them his best stern expression, though he knew it probably looked more weary than anything else. "Are you keeping the ship in order, then? No funny business?"

Kell, taller than Johnson but sharing his darker skin tone and curly hair, grinned. "She's in fine shape, Cap'n. Your brother's kept us on our toes."

Mick came up behind the crew and knocked on the doorframe as Jack laughed a little. "Speaking of your brother," he said. "Rook's here to see you. He asked to speak to you alone."

Scrubbing his face dry with his sleeves as the crew filed out past Mick, Jack sat on the edge of the bed and folded his hands in front of him. Mick lingered in the doorway. "Are you all right to see him?" he asked. "I can--"

"He needs to see me, Mick," Jack said, shaking his head once. "He hasn't been here since I woke up. I've probably worried him sick."

"He's going to bring up Crynia."

Jack shut his eyes. "I know."

When Jack didn't say anything more, Mick blew out a breath and left him.

Rook's knock was hesitant, when it came, and he gave a relieved little smile when Jack raised his head. "Hey."

"Hey," Jack replied, equally soft, and his heart ached at the way Rook hung back in the doorway instead of coming in. Standing up, Jack jerked his head. "Come over here, you rascal."