Chapter Text
The sound of the fire crackling and popping was the only noise in the moonless night. John found himself starting to drift off to sleep from the sound. He caught himself, pinching his wrist to wake himself up. He couldn't afford to fall asleep tonight. Adam had been on watch duty the night before and Peter was in no state to guard their little camp. He looked over at the two other crew members as they slept.
Peter had been getting worse these past few days. He hadn't been well since the day of the shipwreck, but this was completely unprecedented. He had been struck in the head with the keel when he went under, and Adam had to drag him to shore. They both nearly drowned there. John wanted to call it a miracle, but fighting for survival without knowing what will happen to them wasn't a miracle.
A low, incoherent muttering came from the other side of the fire. John looked over. Peter rolled over on the rags he was laying on. He talked in his sleep often, even before the shipwreck. The injury he sustained made this much more apparent. His head had been wrapped in more rags in lieu of bandages. It seemed like each day, he bled through them more and more. How could a man bleed so much? Careful to not wake him, John stood up and walked over to Peter's threadbare bedding and sat next to him.
"…The stars…" Peter began to whisper in his sleep. "The stars are going out…" John rested his hand on Peter's. His wrist was so thin and bony, his once warm rosy tint now shallow and pale. A pang of guilt filled his chest. Peter looked close to death and John couldn't do enough to help him. He could never do enough, no matter what.
Slowly, Peter's eyes opened. One of his pupils was more dilated from the other, on the same side as his head injury. He looked around, confused.
"They're still here," Peter whispered.
"Yeah, Peter," John reassured him. "The stars are still here."
"They'll go out soon," Peter replied. "If not tomorrow night, then one day." At this point, John didn't know if he was right or not. Maybe he was. "They'll all go out." Peter clutched the side of his head, groaning in pain.
"Shhh," John quickly began to soothe him. "Hold still for me." Carefully, he removed the wrappings on Peter's head.
There was a deep gash on Peter's head, connecting from his ear to his temple. If they would have been able to get ahold of all the first aid supplies when the ship went down, then they'd have had a suture kit to keep this wound closed. But that and a compass were the last things they thought to grab. Their only focus at that moment was keeping themselves above the water. Now, here they were, ship's captain concussed and bleeding, with nothing but rags and saltwater to try and avoid infection.
"The serpent will rise from the waters, John," Peter said, in an almost matter-of-fact tone.
"That's…" John hesitated, unable to think of something to say. "That's good to know, Peter." It was better to not argue with him. That would make everyone upset and waste energy needed for gathering food. Trying to avoid touching the sticky, bloodied wound too much, John began to take another rag and tore it into long strips. He began to wrap Peter's head, hoping and praying that they would stay still.
"We'll be there to see it when it happens, John," Peter said, his eyes serious and focused. Or rather, as focused as they could be.
"Sure we will."
"And I'll be right there by your side. Adam too." The sincerity in his voice made John's heart ache. Peter was so obviously in pain and confused, and yet there he was, hell-bent on staying with them through whatever they were going through, serpent or no serpent. He was a good captain.
"You're cold, Peter," John said. "Let's get you closer to the fire." Peter nodded. Careful to not cause him any discomfort or to wake Adam, John began to guide Peter closer to the fire.
"Thank you…" Peter muttered. "Thank you, John." The man pushed his long, graying hair out of his eyes. "It's cold here..."
"I know, Peter," John said. "But it's better that you're out of your wet coat now. That would make you even colder." The weeks of training that John got before that fateful excursion began to come back to him. John hated the first aid segment — he had always been a bit squeamish about some things— but he knew that without his training he would never get to be on that boat. He'd never get to see the world. What a cruel twist of fate it was, he got the certification and he probably still won't get to see the world. Not like this.
"We'll be warm again soon," Peter said. "You, me, and Adam. I'll keep you all warm." John felt his face flush. Probably from the cold or the fire, he thought.
"Just… try and get back to sleep, Peter," he said. "We'll be better in the morning." Peter nodded.
"Soon, we'll all be released," he said with an eerie calmness.
"Yeah… yeah, Peter," John answered. Carefully, he placed the older man's sodden coat near the fire to try and begin drying it. His eyes started to wander towards the stars above. Back on land, it was hard to see them. Here, with almost no light pollution save for the light from the fire, stars filled the air like shining threads on a tapestry. John wanted to call it beautiful, but it only reminded him of just how lonely the three of them really were.