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Adrift Chapter 2 : Raft
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
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post Chapter 1079 and Episode 1112.
His crew is gone. His ship, his home, is gone. Kidd is lost at sea, set adrift both literally and figuratively. At least he's not alone.
There is a creaking and a scrapping that pulled at Kidd's attention, drawing him awake again. The sun was at its height of the day, the air humid under the coat, his arm ached from being propped over his head. The heavy fur no longer stretched taught over him, but draped with little more than a pocket of wet air around Kidd's face.
He couldn't hold back the whimper as he tried to move his arm, it moving stiffly and falling to his side, smothering him in his coat. Finer motor skills were beyond his hand at the moment as he failed to prop it back up.
"I got it, Captain" a soft voice soothed him, and he felt the coat pull free from where it was tangled in his fist. The coat was lifted away from his face, propped up over his head. There was a dull wooden thud, the barrel under his head vibrating as it was hit, before the thud was coming again from the barrel under his heel. The voice, so familiar, like drifting back to him from his childhood, did not return; moved otherwise silently, the boards offering no hits on their movement and they shuffled around Kidd. Killer remained still against him, oblivious to their guest.
Once the canopy was secured, once a light breeze moved the stiffing air under it around, Kidd could feel his head clearing. He managed to get his fingers flexing, arm alternating between pain and pins, and pushed himself higher on the barrel, winced as his busted ribs protested the movement. Then he gazed out onto the half of the makeshift raft not hidden from from his view by the shelter.
The tiniest of shoes looked back at him first, gray misty water boots, so small, the whole foot no bigger than his own palm. The edges slipped out of focus as he peered up, the same misty raincoat over the tiny body looking back at him. The longer he tried to look at the child's face, the harder it was to see anything at all and he could do little more than frown in his confusion.
In contrast to the murky form, the solid outline of a water canteen was held out to him, and the child grinned at him, too many teeth, face of a sharp and pointed skull stirring something comforting in his mind as Kidd took the gift. It wasn't too heavy - definitely not full. But it was fresh, and something to tie him over until he could get something rigged up. A very good start.
"Thank you?" he mumbled, not sure what was owed for such a precious gift. The mirage just patted his shoulder and turned away, little wooden mallet now in hand as it worked of securing a fourth barrel to the their little piece of safety.
Bracing the canteen between Killer's shoulder his own chest, he cautiously loosened it, careful not to drop the lid. He allowed himself the smallest sip, before trying to rouse Killer. His friend remained unmoved, Kidd looking around anxiously, before carefully closing the canteen again.
Theoretically, he could move Killer around by his helmet - had in fact a few times over the years for both petty and desperate reasons. But he was also aware that at the moment, there was something extremely seriously wrong with his partner, and a more cautious approach was warranted.
Canteen carefully set as to not get pushed overboard, Kidd lifted himself until he was sitting upright on his own for the first time under the new rigged coat canopy. The boards groaned, unhappy with his weight on such a small area, and he froze, waiting to see if they would hold.
The little shadow girl regarded him, face unreadable, before returning to where she wrapped rope around her newest find. The fourth barrel was probably the only thing keeping them out of the water with Kidd's new position, and once she turned away, seeming satisfied it would hold, the captain turned back to his last crew mate.
The movement had drug the edges of Killer's mask across Kidd's chest again, blood running easy between them as Kidd flinched, one arm manhandling the other man until he too was sitting upright, if still propped up against Kidd. The waves lapped angrily over the board edges, and Kidd winced as both their feet got wet again; both of Kidd's boots and one of Killer's had been lost to the seas at some point. It was a draining blow to Kidd's mental clarity, but the sun was hot enough to dry his reddening skin quickly.
While it was far more comfortable to hold Killer up with his arm, it also was impossible to help the man doing so. In the end proved to be easier to hold Killer propped upright and awkwardly shuffle around him, than try to maneuver the man around and further. With Killer propped up against his stub, Kidd was able to access the damage to his helmet better.
His face was bruised nearly black where the metal had failed, split open down the center and scabbed shut from where it had been pressed against Kidd. Since moving, it was weeping blood sluggishly, but Kidd's own cuts were worse at this time. There were little smears of fresh blood around the metal's edges where being moved around had nicked him, but otherwise Killer was no longer freely bleeding. Kidd inspected the integrity of the helmet shell; it would still be semi-functional once Killer was moving about on his own again, and the hairline crease that closed the front and back plate was undamaged. One handed, Kidd knew he lacked the dexterity to remove the helmet while it was intact, so he carefully -coaxed- the two pieces into separating. The back plate stuck to his hand as the broken front piece slipped off into their laps.
On the Victoria, there was enough metal surfaces around that Kidd could have lashed the helmet to the floor and it would stay put until he told it otherwise. But here he didn't have that luxury and was careful to set the back piece down to not slide or roll away. He picked up the canteen again, rolling the clasp between his thumb and forefinger until it opened, and he lashed that to the helmet plate as to keep it safe. It took some finagling, but his got Killer's head tipped back against his bad shoulder, and let the smallest drips free of the bottle to wet Killer's parted lips. The water was gone immediately but Killer gave him no response in return. Kidd held the canteen cautiously in the air for a few breaths before risking a little more. And a little more. Still nothing, but Kidd, felling better for getting some fresh water back into his remaining crew, rolled Killer's head forward so it was resting more comfortable, and closed the bottle up tight.
A splash had him jerking out of his thoughts, head whipping to the side to see the not-girl climbing back on the raft. The ocean didn't interact with her at all, but the dark cloth she was dragging over the barrel dripped and sloshed with seawater. Wire's stitching was just as immaculate as ever, the replacement purple sail cloth still sewn tight to the original black fabric that had once allowed the Victoria to cut swiftly across the Grand Line. It had torn and cut across new lines, but not once along the repair job they'd given her in Wano after liberating her from Kaido's men.
All that was left of her sails now was the tattered scraps before him, barely wider than his mast flag had been. A scrap of sail, a coat propped up with kindling, four barrels and a half dozen boards. All that was left of the home that he'd sailed from the South Blue. All that was left of his family was an unresponsive Killer and the ghost of a child Kidd still wasn't sure was real or not.
Said child gave him that sharp smile again, sail cloth airing out to dry over her newly constructed section of the raft. She was no more defined than when Kidd first looked at her, but she exuded pride, the black and red and purple of his scrap of jolly roger reflecting up to make her seem more solid. "Looking good," He felt compelled to praise her work - and it was keeping his ass dry so she'd really done an exceptional job on the raft, and it was a sincere compliment.
He eased Killer back under the shade, helmet and canteen tucked against him for safety. The wood was hot under his feet, as he shuffled forward in a crouch, keeping his weight low on the raft to help keep is stable. He inspected the sail cloth. Once Kidd had an idea of where to sail, he might be able to reuse the scrap wood of their canopy as a basic sail. Or maybe the fabric could make a rudimentary water-still once the canteen was empty.
"Looking really good." Yeah. He could make this work.
