Never: Many Times Over
cw: brief death wish mention/discussion, some ableist language
Peter at least had the courtesy to throw the barrel overboard first.
James quickly followed it, hands lifting him up, rolling him over the side, letting him fall into the waiting arms of the sea.
He must've blacked out when he hit the water, salt burning into the whip marks with such a fury it shut his mind down. He was screaming when the black was faded, screaming underwater, drawing in no air, just the salt, just the brine. He couldn't tell which direction would lead him to the surface but he knew he was sinking, and he couldn't find the energy to fight the pull of the deep.
An arm curled around his waist, lean and strong, hauling him through the waves until his head broke into air, and he was choking, coughing up seawater, his back feeling like it was blistering, though the water was cold.
Jeddy.
She seized the barrel by the rope twisted around it, wound it onto his arms in such a way it would keep his head above the water when she released her grip on him.
Far above, on the deck of The Scarlet Merry, James could hear laughter, hear Peter saying something, but couldn't focus on the words.
He closed his eyes.
Just for a moment, he thought, but when he opened them again the Merry was a silhouette on the horizon and the sun was setting.
Jeddy's arms were on either side of him and she was kicking into the waves, guiding them towards the rocky little shore that stood between them and Peter's island.
James watched it grow closer, little by little, with blurry vision. He couldn't tell how far they had to go, didn't know how long he'd been in the water, only that he was dizzy and cold and weak.
Shadows cast by the sinking sun gave the rock face the appearance of a grinning skull.
How fitting, was James' last thought, before allowing himself to slip back into the calm of unconsciousness.