At first sight, the Skull Crusher was a little bigger than Imo Gen, although it was a close call. Rory leaned against the railing; now the adrenaline had slipped away he was reminded of how sick he was. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and he was dizzy and short of breath. Yet, he wanted to look tough – especially on a ship filled with unknown men to whom he still had to prove that he was not inferior to the others, despite his young age. He would work until his legs gave out. 

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Lee, who was hugging a man with dreadlocks. They were both smiling from ear to ear as if they hadn't seen each other in years. 

Lee pulled Rory closer and wrapped an arm around him. "Hey, my matey over here is Rory," he said. "And that's Kidd. You remember him?"

Once Rory listened to a story, he remembered it for years, and he liked to retell them to other people while making them a little cooler. Lee's history was quite special, so he definitely remembered it. He had barely been on the ship when the redhead told him how he ended up on the Imo Gen; Mack won him during a game of poker. He had been Kidd's bet, who had lost the game on purpose because his father – a pirate captain – executed heavy corporal punishments when his crew was disobedient, and well, Lee was quite a scatterbrain.  

After shaking Rory's hand, Kidd turned away from them; his back showing various scars. He knew his friend had them as well, and he wondered how hard his father had punished Kidd when his son had not only gambled away a crew member, but also the crew's surgeon. The friendship between both must have been strong, and he was happy the boy was now reunited with his former friend. Rory was curious about Kidd's story since Rogier was way too young to be the man's father, but he looked like a spontaneous guy who wouldn't hesitate to answer his questions. 

"Why are ye standing there and doing nothing, ye filthy rats?" Suddenly, Markus was standing in front of them, his feet apart and his arms crossed in front of his chest. He glared at Rory, the look in his eyes dark like he wanted to slit Rory's throat right here and right now. "Go clean out the hold of yer little skiff, we're gonna leave that thing behind. All yer possessions are ours now." He showed them a daring grin. 

Rory didn't answer. After all, he was just glad they wouldn't die. Furthermore, he knew perfectly well that the asshole was trying to lure him out and he wasn't going to take the bait again. He was an adult. In silence, he wanted to walk the plank to the other ship, but before he could do so Lee grasped his arm. 

"You gotta take it easy, mate. Past days you were far gone man."

Rory yanked away his arm. "I'm fine."

Before his friend could add another word, he balanced on the plank towards the other deck. The water was churning between the ships and he was dizzy as hell, but he didn't back off. Descending the stairs until he reached the hold, he carried the boxes back to the main deck. However, after going up and down the stairs three times he was shaking on his legs. He leaned on his knees, breathing heavily. Sweat poured down his body, now and then he was even shivering. 

C'mon, don't be such a baby. It's just a fever.

Skittishly he looked around, hoping nobody noticed how awful he felt. His glance crossed Erik's, who walked over to him. 

"Ye look paler than a corpse, boy. You've done enough for today."

Rory ignored him. He hadn't paid any attention to him the past weeks, so why would he care now? "I'm fine."

Behind Erik, he saw the captain looking their way. Quickly Rory wanted to get to work again, but it felt like those cold blue eyes pinned him to the ground. Part of him hoped that Rogier would walk over to him, taking care of him like North had done when he met Finn. Despite his tough exterior, the man had a good heart, but he wasn't really sure about Rogier. Something told him the captain would let him drown if he would fall overboard. 

The captain raised his head a little as if he asked in silence why the hell Rory was staring at him. Quickly he turned around and stumbled down the stairs.

. . .

Rory was standing close to the bowsprit, staring at the endless sea. He was exhausted. He would kill to lie down, but no hammock was assigned to him yet. One by one, the crew of Imo Gen was called to the captain's quarters. Rory was one of the last. He needed the support of the walls while he walked to the back of the ship. 

His heart started to beat faster at the prospect to talk to the captain. Please... Just don't say something stupid... Something he could see happen since he was so tired. 

As he reached the posterior cabin and opened the door, he noticed that it was Markus who was sitting behind the writing desk. There was a sheet of parchment on top of the table. His stomach cramped up at the sight of the man's cold glare. Rory shuffled towards the desk, only vaguely noticing the beautiful woodcarving of this room and the cabinets filled with leather-bound books. He didn't know if he was allowed to sit down, but his legs could no longer support him and he fell half on top of the chair. Panting, he sat up straight. Sweat was stinging in his eyes, he hoped the other wouldn't think that he was crying.

"Did I tell you to sit down?"

Cursing, Rory squeezed his eyes shut. The captain had told them they were his guests, right? 

"Let the boy sit."

The voice chased a feverish shiver down his spine. He looked over his shoulder and recognized Rogier, who was sitting in a dark corner of the room, probably monitoring Markus during the conversations. 

The captain sounded bored. He didn't seem to care about Rory's feelings at all; clearly, he felt like he was wasting his time. There was not the slightest sympathy in his cold eyes. 

Quickly, he turned his face back to Markus. Now the captain was in the same room, he felt ten times more uncomfortable. 

"Name?" Markus snapped.  

"Rory. "

"Age?"

Rory hesitated, then he decided to add a few years. "Nineteen."

Behind him, he heard a mocking laugh, making the hairs on his arms rise. "If I was interested in hearing your fantasies, I'd summoned you to my quarters without Markus being around. I demand honesty."

Rory's face became flaming red. As broken as he felt, his mind was clear enough to call up images in which the captain and himself were wearing very few clothes, and he was terrified that Rogier could somehow look into his head.

Markus smirked at him, changing his erotic fantasy into something more bloody and evil in which the lead was reserved for the brown-haired man on the other side of the table. 

"No more lies," Markus spat. "Your age?"

"Seventeen," he mumbled. 

"Rank?"

"A lookout."

In silence, the feather scratched across the parchment. Rory had never learned how to write, and he envied the man for being educated. 

"The crow's nest is already manned," Markus said, flipping through the tome. "Since you're the youngest, all cleaning jobs will be your responsibility. The galley, our clothes, ..."

"I'm not a girl!" Rory argued outraged. "I'm just as much a pirate as you are! I can do what everyone else can!"

Markus shrugged his shoulders. "You do whatever the hell I tell you to, cabin boy. I know nothing about the shitty rules on your former ship, but little punks like you start at the bottom here and one day we're gonna see if you live long enough to get a higher position."

The anger was boiling underneath his skin. He knew damn well this had nothing to do with his age; it was Markus' revenge for challenging him when the man had been humiliating his captain. Huffing in annoyance, he looked over his shoulder. Rogier raised his eyebrows questioningly. Even though he had stood up for Rory the first time, he didn't interfere this time. 

"You got one other option and that's ending up as shark bait," Markus warned him. Something dark glistened in his eyes. "No? Thought so. Keep in mind that scrubbing the shit barrels is your responsibility too. You gotta empty and clean 'em every day."

"What the hell?! Man, just hang above the sea when you shit."

Markus chuckled, gloating. "We are a civil crew and we like a bit of comfort."

Rory huffed. He had a strong feeling they only used barrels to shit in to humiliate people they were annoyed by. 

"You can go now," Markus said. 

Tears of powerlessness stung his eyes. But what could he do? Refuse the job? He couldn't think of a reason why they wouldn't throw him overboard. Frustrated, he pushed back his chair and limped to the door. No longer caring about courtesies, he scowled at the captain who was just as much an asshole as Markus. He could handle some criticism, but it was unbelievable that they forced him to shovel shit only because he was the youngest. 

As Rogier caught Rory's agitated look, the corner of his mouth curled up. 

"Sleep a few hours," he told him. "You won't start before the surgeon declares you healthy enough to carry out your tasks."

Rory just nodded, stumbling out of the captain's quarter with a sour face. They could go to hell. He had wanted to show them his best side, but if they left all the shitty tasks to him he wouldn't hurry in getting better.

Despite his angry thoughts, however, his bottom lip started to tremble when he heard the men's laughter behind him in the captain's quarter.