Chapter Text
Chip finally found the barrel in their shadowy pantry, behind a couple large sacks and crates, lid firmly on, and the imprint of a bloody hand on the side.
He sighed, sitting down on a nearby crate, and knocked lightly on it. “Gill? You alright?”
Silence for a moment. And then- “How did you find me?”
Chip didn’t mention the fact that the whole barrel was trembling. “You hid really well, Gill. I’m just pretty observant.”
Two bald-faced lies, but there was a hesitant hope in Gillion’s voice. “Really? I’m usually not very skilled in subterfuge.”
Chip dunked a rag in the bucket of water they had in the pantry and began to gently scrub away at the blood on the barrel’s side. “Could’ve fooled me, man. I only found you because I was hungry.”
There was silence from inside the barrel but he could picture the smile that was on Gillion’s face – the same one he wore whenever he managed to do something that impressed Chip.
“Not that you need it, of course, but if you want, I could help disguise your spot a bit more,” Chip offered.
“…That would be acceptable.”
Chip wanted to tell Gillion that he didn’t need to sleep in their pantry. That if he felt unsafe, Chip would protect him and could do so from their normal sleeping quarters. That the goddamn captain shouldn’t have to hide on his own fucking ship.
But Gillion had been sleeping in their quarters last night. And apparently, Felipe had almost killed him in his sleep all the same.
“For real, Gill, are you alright, man?” Chip asked again, draping a towel over the barrel. “That didn’t look pretty.”
“Jay healed all of my wounds,” Gillion responded.
“I know, buddy. But how are you feeling? It sounded pretty… intense.”
“Oh, I’m fine.” Chip rolled his eyes. Funny how Gillion Tidestrider’s commitment to always telling the truth seemed to fall apart when it came to his own well-being. “Someone should probably go check on Felipe though.”
“Yeah.” Chip knew Gill wouldn’t read the sarcasm in his voice. “I’ll get someone right on that.”
He didn’t push Gillion any further though, instead carefully rearranging and stacking the crates around the barrel to better conceal it. It wasn’t that he thought Felipe would try and hunt Gillion down during the night. He knew how well he’d tied Felipe down – that frog wasn’t escaping any time soon. But if it helped Gill…
“I’m gonna head to sleep now,” he told Gill. “Come wake me up if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay. Good night, Chip.”
“Good night, Gill.”
Jay was nowhere to be seen when he went back onto the deck, but she’d been pretty shaken up, so he assumed she wanted to be alone. The rest of their crew also seemed to have headed to bed, except for Alphonse, on the night shift.
Chip spared enough time to peer over the side of the ship to confirm Felipe was fast asleep on the rowboat trailing after them, before heading down to their sleeping quarters. Jay was fast asleep, or at least pretending to be sleeping, her back to the door.
He sat down heavily on his cot, unbuckling the sword sheathed at his side and pulling off the bandana. He frowned at the uncomfortable lump in his pocket, and blinked in surprise when he pulled out the deck of cards that he’d swiped from Felipe.
He- he should put it back in the briefcase. Or hide it somewhere that Felipe would never find it. Chip knew Jay had several hiding spots on the ship that were trapped to keep people away. He knew because he’d almost lost a finger to one of them just a few days ago. But-
Chip glanced at Jay’s back before shoving the card deck back into his pocket. Just in case.
Objectively.
A crew member on a pirate ship, and a new one at that, tries to kill the ship’s captain in their sleep. The captain survives, but the crewmate still wants to kill the captain, cannot resist the desire to kill the captain.
The crewmate is ousted from the ship, lest there be any further, potentially successful, attempts on the captain’s life.
Or at least that was what any normal pirate crew would do.
But somehow, after growing up on the Midnight Rose and then spending his childhood in Reuben Price’s gang, Chip had landed himself on a ship with some of the most honourable goddamn pirates he’d ever met.
(“Felipe, listen to me. We’re friends, even if you want to kill me.”)
“Look,” he said to Jay quietly. “All I’m saying is, what if we set up a nice ship for Felipe – we’ve got money – and when he’s sleeping, just like, put him on it?”
Jay blinked. “Chip, that is so incredibly fucked up.”
“Is it? Is it really?”
(“Felipe, if you stab me to death, will you feel better? How do we make this better?”)
“Listen, Gill’s plan is to let Felipe stab him to death every night. How is this a more fucked up option?” Chip demanded.
Call him crazy, but a captain, honour be damned, should not have to be stabbed almost to death every night just for their resident murderous crewmate to be happy. For most captains, that was actually usually the first sign that a person wasn’t a great fit for their crew.
And in addition, Gillion should not be willing to let him do that either. Gillion Tidestrider, champion of the undersea, hero of the deep, was the type of man to set himself on fire to keep his friends warm. And maybe, just maybe, Chip didn’t want to be the type of friend to facilitate that.
“Gillion, Gillion, Gillion. Always so eager to bite the bullet. But maybe this time, we shouldn’t let him.”
Jay snorted. “You and I both know there’s no letting Gillion do something.”
“Do you not see something wrong with this situation?” Chip questioned. “Gill shouldn’t be willing to just let Felipe stab him every single night. Aren’t you worried about what kind of mindset he’s in right now that would make him think that’s even remotely okay?”
Jay was already shaking her head. “I don’t think it’s like that, Chip. Gill – he’s just like this about his friends. He adores Felipe.”
“And Felipe adored him too,” Chip said bitterly. “Even if he wants to kill him.”
(Felipe was crying. Even as he tightly gripped a dagger in his hand. He wasn’t even talking sense anymore. “I don’t know why I want to kill you – I just feel like it’ll make everything better, it’ll make it go away. It’ll make the fact that I hate you so much and I don’t know why go away.”)
“You know it’s not Felipe’s fault,” Jay said gently.
(“If I don’t kill you, I’m gonna go fucking insane,” Felipe sobbed. “I’m already losing it, man!”)
“Yeah, well, it’s not Gill’s fault either. But he’s the one paying for it.”
And that was the most messed up part, wasn’t it? That Gillion thought it was his fault at all. Just because he’d drawn from that goddamn deck of cards – the deck that Chip had bought from some mysterious vendor – and it had done some sort of magic that made Felipe hate him. And because of that, Gillion thought it was his fault. Maybe even that he somehow deserved what Felipe was doing to him.
“It’s his decision,” Jay asserted, even if she looked just as shaken as Chip did. “At the end of the day, this affects Gillion more than us. And we’ve got to trust him to make his own decisions about what he thinks is best. And respect his autonomy.”
Chip rolled his eyes. “Oh, fuck that. I don’t give a shit about what Gillion Tidestrider says because clearly he can’t get his head on straight enough to see that this is the worst decision a pirate captain has ever made.”
“What would you do if it was me?” Jay questioned, her tone too sharp for Chip’s liking. “What would you do if it was me, in Felipe’s place? If I was the one trying to kill him?”
Chip paused. Because admittedly, that did make him hesitate a bit more. Because much as he liked Felipe, and they were friends, he’d only known the frog for about a week. But even so…
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know what I’d want you to do if it was me.” Same as what any other pirate crew would do without batting an eye. “I’d want you to drop me off at the nearest island with a shit-ton of money and move on.”
Price would’ve abandoned him in a heartbeat if he got mixed up in some sort of magical curse that gave him warm and fuzzy murderous feelings toward him. And Chip would’ve expected nothing less.
“If Felipe cannot stop trying to murder Gillion, he leaves,” Chip declared. “That’s just the way it has to be.”
Jay shook her head knowingly. “Sure, Chip. You can be the one to try and tell that to Gill.”
Right on cue, from the other end of the ship.
“I’m going to fucking kill you!”
Chip sighed, grabbing the first aid kit and a coil of rope before heading out to the main deck just in time to see Felipe yell and drive a knife right into Gillion’s chest.
There was something… inhuman in Felipe’s expression. In Felipe himself, when he was like this. He was usually so carefree, but at times like this, when Gillion let the spell that had been suppressing the curse drop, Chip swore the air around him dropped several degrees and the shadows clung to them just a little more. It was the utter loathing in his eyes, the twisted sneer on his face, the vitriol that spat from his lips. This Felipe was not their friend. Shouldn’t be their crewmate. This Felipe scared Chip.
“I hate you!”
With another yell, Felipe was lunging for Gillion again, plunging that shark-tooth dagger into his chest again. Chip flinched for him, barely resisting the urge to go over and defend him. Gill coughed and blood splattered the deck. At that, Chip did start moving closer, catching Gill’s attention.
“It’s okay!” he managed a bloodied grin. “I can take it!”
Felipe sobbed and buried the dagger in Gillion’s chest once more, and Chip was certain he heard the snap of bone. When he pulled back, Chip lunged forward, slapping the dagger from his hand and grabbing his wrists.
“Alright, that’s three. That was the deal.”
Felipe struggled against him, spitting venom that sunk into the deck of the ship, but ultimately failing to escape. Chip wrestled him away from Gillion, making for the same rowboat on the side of their ship. The second they were out of eyesight of Gill, Felipe’s fighting eased, and Chip managed to tie him securely to the boat without too much trouble.
“Night Chip,” Felipe mumbled, seemingly tired from his murder attempts. “Tell Gill sorry for me.”
Chip did no such thing when he returned to Gillion, who was sitting down on the deck, breathing heavily, stab wounds still gushing blood, but did stop to grab a rag before heading up, dunking it into the sea and wringing it out.
“Hey, man,” he said softly, kneeling in front of him. “You got those or do you want me to grab Jay?”
“No.” Gill was staring down at the blood dazedly. “I- I can do it.”
“Of course you can,” Chip encouraged.
Even so, it was a painful few seconds before Gill brought his own hands up to cover the wounds, before they started to glow with a shimmering blue-green light and slowly began to close.
“There you go,” Chip murmured. “Feeling better?”
Gill nodded but didn’t say anything, slowly lowering his hands from his wounds. He just kept looking up at Chip, not exactly wide-eyed, but definitely with more vulnerability than Chip was used to.
“Okay, let’s clean you up.”
Chip did his best to keep his chatter light-hearted as he carefully began to rub at the blood on Gill’s skin with the wet rag. Thankfully they both wore dark pants, as they were both sitting in a puddle of Gillion’s blood. It didn’t take long to clean him up, with the blood still fresh, and Chip very carefully did not mention the three new scars on Gill’s torso.
“Okay.” He leaned back. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. Do you want to head to the kitchens now? Get some food in you?”
Gill blinked. Then slowly shook his head. “I think it would be best if I retire for the night now, Chip.”
“That’s alright.” Chip edged himself a little over to the side so Gill would have an easy exit. He didn’t fight him over the food either. Learning moment and all. Tomorrow he’d know to bring food with him for Gill.
Gill seemed to want to get up, planting his hands on the deck to push himself up, before blinking and looking down at them. Chip didn’t make the same mistake, just leaning back onto his heels and standing, without touching the puddle of blood with his hands. When Gill did finally push himself to his feet, Chip took the extra moment to help wipe the blood from his hands with the rag before letting Gill stumble off to wherever he planned on hiding tonight.
With Gillion gone, he retrieved the mop and bucket from downstairs and began tediously working on the puddle of blood before it dried. He did notice Gill trying to sneak out of the kitchen with his sleeping barrel, and surreptitiously attempting to climb the crow’s nest with it in tow. He did not tell Gill that Drey was already sleeping up there.
After dumping the bucket of bloody water, Chip went down to their quarters, staring at the space where Gill’s barrel used to be. He should probably go talk to Jay, who’d been tasked with keeping Ollie away from the main deck. Or he should climb the crow’s nest to make sure Drey and Gillion weren’t fighting it out over the sleeping space. But mostly he just felt like tearing his hair out.
It was infuriating. How the hell was this their solution to the problem?
Gillion could’ve died. If they kept this going, he could die, one of these nights. And if that happened, the blood wouldn’t just be on Felipe’s hands. It’d be on all of their hands, not putting a stop to this before it was too late. He’d die for Gillion in a heartbeat, but this? He was useless to stop this. Not when Gillion himself refused to let them evict Felipe.
A band-aid, Gill had called it. A temporary fix for this large clusterfuck of a wound. It wouldn’t solve Felipe’s curse. It was never meant to. It was meant to hold things together until they could fix the real problem.
That was all Chip had to do. Fix the problem, remove the curse, and they’d be done with all of this. No more stabbing Gillion in the night, no more tying Felipe up, no more mopping up blood.
But how?
That was the true problem.
Except-
Felipe had come up with a solution. Or at least thought he had.
They’d never given him the chance to try it. Chip himself had been the one to wrestle it from his hands.
Maybe Felipe had been onto something. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.
From his pocket, Chip pulled out the deck of cards he’d bought from that strange vendor in the Feywild all that time ago. Pull a card, and your fate may change, the merchant had promised.
He drew a card from the deck.
And
everything
went
black.
“What is your name, young one?”
The room had been swallowed by shadows the second he’d drawn the card. He could just about make out the word FLAMES written on it from the moonlight, before the card was lit with a purple fire that quickly turned it to ash in his hand. And all too quickly, that light was snuffed out too.
He wasn’t even sure he was on the ship anymore – he’d jolted to his feet the second the room had plunged into darkness, but he couldn’t feel the rocking of the waves under him, nor the creaking of the deck. He couldn’t see anything at all.
“Chip!” he called out bravely, and felt the answering chuckle send shivers down his spine.
“That is not your true name, and we both know it.”
There! Chip could see a pinprick of light, obscured by rolling black fog. No. Two pinpricks. Coming closer. Red, like fire. Chip had the horrifying realisation that they were a pair of eyes just before flames set the creature’s crown ablaze, finally illuminating him. The face staring down at him was not human – it felt almost as if he were looking at an animal’s skull. Sharp and angular, but without skin, seemingly hollow if not for the two balls of flame that made its eyes. When it grinned, it showed off rows of sharp, jagged teeth.
“That’s alright,” the creature crooned, fire dancing around the antlers of its crown. “True names are powerful things, not to be tossed around.”
Chip scoffed. The name Chip was more his than anything his shitty parents had left him. It was a gift from the only man he’d really seen as a father.
He wet his lips. “Speaking of names, can I get yours?”
That seemed to amuse the creature. “No. But you may call me Andrael.”
Chip hummed. “Yeah, not gonna work for me. Andy? Does Andy work? You seem like an Andy.” His smile dropped. “Now we’ve got introductions out of the way, tell me who the fuck you are. What do you want with me?”
It laughed, and when it did, the shadows moved with it, dancing with the light of the fire. It reached out, a skeletal hand under a dark cloak, and a bony finger slid down Chip’s cheek. “I’m your own personal devil. Brought all the way from hell, just for you. And as for what I want?”
Andrael leaned in closer, and if he was even living, if he even had breath to breathe, Chip was certain it’d be skating across his face. As it was, all he could smell was brimstone and the smoke billowing off it. “Why, Chip, I want you to suffer. Like no other man before you has ever suffered.”
Why? The question was on the tip of his tongue. But he knew why. The answer was clutched in his hands. He’d done this to himself when he’d drawn that card.
The devil nodded knowingly, as if following his thoughts. “Yes, you brought me here didn’t you? With that deck of cards in your hand. Such a powerful magical object to have been left so carelessly in a mortal’s hands. How did you happen upon it, I do wonder?”
Chip’s mind flashed to the mysterious vendor – the deal without any terms. But before he’d finished debating whether the truth or a lie would be more beneficial to offer here-
“I see, I see,” Andrael mused. “You must have some very powerful enemies.”
This fucking thing could read his fucking mind.
“But what purpose would you have for such powerful magic, young one?”
Unwillingly, he thought of Felipe and Gillion. Felipe, stabbing Gillion over and over again, and not stopping, until Chip dragged him off. Gillion promising it was alright, even as he bled out.
“Such care for your friends,” the devil murmured. “You’re correct, of course. Only the deck can fix what it has done. Well, that, or divine intervention, but I see no gods here. Just me.”
Chip reckoned he knew a certain wish doctor that could fix the problem for a hefty price. Not, however, a price that he was willing to pay.
“Very fascinating indeed,” Andrael whispered.
Chip found his voice. “Get out of my fucking head!”
The devil laughed again, and when it tilted its head back, the flames seemed to catch on its cloak, racing down its body, wreathing the creature in fire. Chip was too close – the flames leapt onto him too, burning into him.
“You and I are going to have a lot of fun.”
Before he even had the chance to scream, in the blink of an eye, he was back on the ship, no fire in sight. He could hear the distinctive sound of Jay’s footsteps on the deck above him, and the waves rocking against the boat. But staring down at his unblemished arms, he couldn’t get the sensation of burning to leave his mind.
The deck of cards laid almost tauntingly in his lap.