You've been packing and planning for weeks, sorting through papers and maps, ferreting out the places your gut is set on and marking it, delicate hands running over your journal- not unlike the one your father had always kept around- that you tuck into your boot.
Writing in it comes easy; its not like being filmed, it isn't like talking. It's just you putting down your thoughts, and since you haven't wrote anything in it other than a small entry about the details of the upcoming trip, it feels to you like an outlet to get your worries etched into paper instead of your mind. Said entry is as follows:
Today's the day. I haven't seen the ship yet-nobody has, but I'm sure that it's going to be absolutely grand. I just can't believe that after all this time of talking about it that Sam and I are actually going! Roth tells me to trust my instincts, so that's what I’m going to do. We are definitely going to find Yamatai.
You've been holding on to it since you've first made the date that you'd set sail, and even still, Sam hasn't noticed it. She's been busy with her camcorder, the one that she's had for the past year, hat some how always ends up on you even when you flail and mumble that you're no good on camera. She always complies, but you know she must keep some of the footage she's recorded.
Her camcorder is currently in her hand, and when you look to your side, you see her leaning over Reyes and filming out the window.
“So, this is it! Ah, our last hours on the land. Seems almost bittersweet,” You see her pause, and then turn swiftly towards the front window. “Alex is driving us to where the ship's docked.”
She must decide that it's enough information for now, because she snaps camera down and tucks the camcorder into her jacket pocket. She's scrunched in the small car between you and Reyes, and when she looks over and sees your open journal, your neat scrawls, she smirks.
“Nerd,” She inches closer to you, and you huff, not of the remark, but because of the fact that now you have virtually no space.
The car creaks and groans, only increasing in volume as the bumpy road edges on, your left elbow pressed hard against the car door and your knees bumping into the back of Jonah's seat.
“Shit, missed the turn,” Alex mutters from the front, and this time it is all of you that are groaning, because the road trip has been unpleasant will all five of you plus cargo crammed into its holds.
“Oh, Fuck!” Is all you hear before the car abruptly swerves and you slam into the car door, Sam falling onto you and Reyes nearly falling onto the floor.
“Christ, Alex,” You say, cursing both the lack of seat belts in the back and whoever let him drive in the first place. He mumbles an embarrassed apology and tells you all something about a bicyclist that jumped in his lane.
You're sitting there, thankful that your weight didn't some how fling open the flimsy door, that you don't realize that Sam hasn't moved from the spot she'd been thrown to: your lap.
“Woah, you two,” Reyes says, and when Sam pushes her head back so you can see around her, you notice that Reyes is raising a brow and your breath hitches when you notice for the first time where Sam's hand is. You cough nervously, choking when Sam waggles her eyebrows at you and says something to her that you can't quite make out because of the pounding in your ears. Reyes guffaws and Jonah swings his head around to look at you knowingly. Sam.
“So shy,” Sam coos, placing a kiss on your cheek as she moves back into her place in the middle. Reyes and Jonah laugh, their hands maneuvering to high five each other, and your face only reddens more when out of the corner of your eye you see the look Sam is shooting you. Your face is on fire, and for Christ’s sake, when have you started becoming so sensitive?
“Huh? What'd I miss?” Alex's question lingers in the air for a moment; dying completely when he glances back at you all and then Reyes hurriedly shoos him back to looking at the road, lest another bicyclist get in his way.
Embarrassment hangs over your head, so thick you wonder if you can choke on it. Everyone else in the car seems alright, if not comfortable, and you pout slightly, narrowing your eyes out the window. Smug bastards, you think, but your fingers ghost Sam's anyways. This girl is going to be the death of you, you swear it.
“Man, when the hell are we going to get there? Roth must be there already!” Jonah throws something on the dashboard, nearly sliding off again before Alex reaches over and snatches it, discarding it in his open jacket pocket.
“In like, damn. What time is it now?” Alex looks in the rear view mirror this time, and Sam glances down at her watch.
She'd gotten used to saying it like that, and although you write it down on papers, actually hearing it throws you off slightly. Alex is more thrown back, though, confusion spreading his face before he counts in his head and then he's relaxed again.
His relaxation doesn't last, instead turning into panic as he speeds the car up more, not-so easily switching lanes, the rough turns causing you to bump against Sam and the door. You are sick of this car.
“We'll be there in 10 minutes, if I can speed this thing up more-”
Many cries of protest later, and then the car is stopped and everyone gets out to stretch their legs, because Jonah is taking the wheel and even a second outside the car is a little miracle in itself. You're busy looking at the cars passing by and leaning up against the rusted metal that Sam's touch makes you jump.
Her fingers inch their way onto your side, and you hum in approval when she pulls you closer to her and rests her head on your shoulder.
“I can see the sea,” She tells you, bumping against your hip, letting out a long sigh as she stretches on her toes.
“I see that you can see the sea,” you can't stop yourself, you are in love with puns, and she frowns up at you, clearly not approving of your jokes. She's about to say something snarky, you know it, so you hurriedly press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Hoots and hollers follow suit from the other side of the car, and when Sam gives Jonah and Reyes a thumbs up, you smile and decide that PDA can be alright sometimes, as long as nothing inappropriate is said.
“And the most adorable couple award goes to...” Jonah whispers as he passes you on his way to the driver's side.
It's sunset when you finally get to the docks, and the car ride, although still cramped, is unsurprisingly much better. Alex defends himself, explaining that the car was really wonky when he was driving, and that's why the road was so much more bumpy, but he trails off when the car pulls up beside the boardwalk.
Once you're out of the car and you slide your pack on and carry Sam's in your hand, your free hand makes its way to hers and your fingers twine together. It's what you do on autopilot, really; her touch is an instinct, it's like fuel that keeps you going.
The others shuffle their way out of the car and gather their belongings, and you decide to go ahead and go on without them.
The ship is a magnificent thing, towering all over the other ships that line down the dock, and when Roth notices you and grins, you can tell he is proud of it. “She's beautiful,” He says, slapping a hand on Grim's shoulder. “Nice job finding 'er.”
“Holy shit,” Sam says from beside you, nearly causing you to drop what you're carrying in surprise, “I can't believe it's that big!”
“It ain't really,” Grim replies to her, “Just looks like it 'cause all them other ships are cruddy as hell!” before he can finish his sentence, another man further down the dock shoots him a glare and stops securing his ship to the boardwalk. If Grim notices, he doesn't show it, and when he goes on about how all the other ships are out shined by this one, you try your hardest to suppress your laughter.
Apparently Sam and you aren't the only ones who think it's huge, because you hear the others coming up behind you and stopping abruptly as the ship came into view. “You sure this is the one? I mean, we don't have much of a crew,” Alex moves past you and speaks to Roth a bit hesitantly, “Who'd Grim have to steal from?”
“Boy, quit you're lyin'!” Grim says in a gruff, but friendly manner, causing Alex to let out a slightly nervous laugh.
“Yeah, ok,” He mutters as he starts to follow him up the railing, but not before pausing to talk to you, first.
“Oh, uh, Lara, I was wondering...” Alex fixes his hair a bit, possibly thinking something over,”You know, if you don't have a bunk mate already, maybe we can share a cabin or something or whatever.”
You hear Jonah choke on whatever he's drinking, and then he's laughing so hard he has to double over to catch his breath. Alex glances at him curiously, but then he's focusing on you again. You smile at him, notice the way he's sweating, and you let him down in the most friendliest way possible.
“Sorry, but I'm already sharing a cabin with Sam.”
You think that he must realize the context of what happened in the car now, because then he sees that she is holding your hand, and Jonah's laughter in the background becomes sort of soundtrack to the downfall of his romantic escapades. He blushes a bright red, backing away and saying something that sounded like oh my god sorry I didn't realize and then he's hurrying up onto the ship, Jonah following shortly behind, possibly even to console him.
You imagine it in your mind, Jonah's eyes fresh with tears, his grin never swaying, as he explains that sorry man the girl you just asked out is gay as hell, want me to cook you something special later?
Everyone is ready before you two are, Sam's bags outnumbering probably all of theirs put together, so when its just you and her lingering outside of the ship, she presses a kiss to your lips briefly.
“He totally has a crush on you, you know,” She tells you, her grin only widening when she sees your confused expression.
“What? I don't think so, Sam. I think that was sort of a one time thing--”
“He does,” She winks at you and grips your hand tighter, “But guess what? The Lara train has already left the tracks and I am that mother fucking conductor.”
“Sam,” You start, and then just decide against whatever you were going to tell her dies on your lips when she whispers something in your ear, probably far more explicit then whatever she told Reyes earlier that day.
Grim was right about the ship. Your cabin is smaller than you'd thought it would be, and despite how massive the ship looks on the outside, the engine and maintenance rooms make up the majority of it, leaving all the cabins in the same hall, much to Sam's dismay.Close quarters means thin walls, she explained to you.
While Sam starts getting her nightly routine done in the bathroom down the hall, you get started on unpacking all of the bags thrown on the floor: a small suitcase (yours), a humongous suitcase, two or three decently sized bags, and one pack (all hers).
If you hadn't known her for long, you'd think that perhaps you packed a bit too modestly, but in actuality, Sam's items consist of overly expensive leather jackets, skinny jeans, and tons of high quality camera equipment along with makeup and oh god is that a vibrator. Upon further inspection, you realize its just one of those fancy toothbrushes, and you curse her for getting those sort of thoughts clouding up your mind.
You decide to leave her unpacking to her, because the blood rushing to your face is making you a little dizzy if that's even possible, and besides, the things you've brought are easy enough to get out and still have time to go and get changed before she even gets back in the room.
When you're finished sorting out your maps and journals on the desk in the room, you waste a significant amount of time pinning a picture to the inside of the locker and staring at it for a while. You can't believe that, in just a short amount of time, you've managed to get a crew together and finally start out on an expedition that you've been planning with Sam for years in the shadows of your shared dorm room, one that remarkably resembles the cabin you are currently in, albeit significantly smaller.
It's so amazing that you have to sit back and admire the both of you in that photo, adorned in graduation gowns and caps. You are in such a trance that you don't notice footsteps until a door slams and in reflex slam the locker door a bit too hard.
Sam groans, loudly, and you turn around hurriedly, wondering what was the matter. She looks perfectly fine, and before you can ask any questions, she yells, “Did you hear that?” presumably to someone outside of the door.
When no response comes, she does a little happy dance, one saved for acing an exam and when she finishes a shopping trip and comes back to show you her loot. She opens the door and thanks Reyes, who has a knowing look on her face for whatever reason.
When the door is closed for a final time, Sam smiles at you with a twinkle in her eyes.
“So, Lara. I guess these walls are soundproof.”
Knowing exactly where this is leading, you shake your head in an exhausted manner and mirror her smile back at her, because only she would get so excited over these sort of things.
“Hm, is that so?”
“Yesssss,” She motions to the bed, “Shall we?”
“Oh my god, you haven't even unpacked yet and you want to do that already? What if someone needs to ask one of us a question, or come in for some reason--”
“Sweetie, please.” She saunters over to you, cupping your jaw in her hand, her fingertips starting to ghost down your neck. Your heartbeat is outrageous, and you can hear the steady thumps in your chest as you look into her now dark eyes, and then she's kissing you, a fierce kiss, and you decide that maybe it isn't too early after all.
“Here she is, Lara Croft, in her natural habitat,” Looking behind you, you see Sam transfixed on the camera, her eyes glancing up at you every now and then from the lens.
“Sam,” you say tiredly, looking at her and resisting the urge to cover your face, “You know I don't like being filmed.”
“Aw, come on, but you have such a nice face!”
You laugh, a nervous laugh, because you're not confident of yourself, never really have been, and now Sam is telling everyone who watches this video that you are attractive. It's not a big deal, not at all even close to one, but it is nerve-wracking, thinking of being on camera in front of people.
“Er,” You fidget, uncomfortable, and she notices, because she immediately changes the shot, instead filming herself.
“Ha ha, there you have it people! My very shy girlfriend!” She tells the camera, and then flips it closed.”Sorry, sweetie.” She walks over to you and pulls you up from the chair, kissing your cheek as she adds, “You are really cute though. Like, shit if I could only film one thing for the rest of my life it would totally be you, no doubt about it.”
Your tense muscles melt into complete ease, but you're a bit flustered, not used to being complimented with words, not sure to respond. Instead of awkwardly giving a thank you, you sputter out,” You're way cuter than me, ha.” And instantly regret how your voice cracks.
Her face lights up, and she cups your face in her hands, “Ohmygod Lara you're adorable.”
“No,” you whine, but let her continue her mannerisms, because the whole thing is ridiculous as much as it's cute.
“Want to take a double take? I'll just edit it to make it seem like its all in one shot,” She asks, after she's picked up her camera again and you've sat down at your desk. You pause, your hands falling down to your legs, and you decide that yeah, if you're going to be on film, you really want it to be done in a professional way.
The camera turns to you, the red light glowing, and you’re not exactly sure what you want to say before you remember that you should probably just go ahead and tell her something that you've actually been wanting to speak to her about. Your hands instantly move to the map in front of you, and you look into the camera.
“I know it's here, Sam, it absolutely has to be! I just. Argh, I just have this feeling in my gut that it's here.”
“The food here is actually pretty good, though,” Alex tells someone, and you wonder if maybe it's a bad time, but before you can scurry back to your room, they've rounded the corner and you're face to face with a man with glasses and blonde some-what shaggy hair.
“Ah, and this must be Lara Craft, am I correct?” He clasps his hands together and studies you, nodding approvingly.
“Croft, actually.” You mutter, instantly taking a dislike for this man and his cocky mannerisms, and again you try to run off, but he grabs one of your arms and shakes way too enthusiastically, as if he's trying to put on a show for an invisible camera.
Alex watches all of this, realizing how uncomfortable you are, and you thank the heavens that he isn't a bitter person, won't let you suffer because you're with sam and you rejected him. He interjects in the conversation as quickly as he can. “This is Whitman,” He explains to you, and then, “Whitman, let's make our way to the engine room-”
“Doctor James Whitman,” The man corrects, annoyance lacing his words, and he seems reluctant to leave you, but thankfully, he does.
You mouth a thank you to Alex when he looks back at you from over his shoulder. No Problem, he mouths back, smiling at you.
Sam slams the door open to your shared cabin in such a way that it makes you nearly fall off of the small bed. She's fuming, and she slams the door shut behind her, throwing her camcorder to your side and then she's stripping.
“I hate that man!” She screeches, and when her shirt's thrown onto the floor, you notice a large dark stain right in the middle of it. “He spilled his coffee on me, I swear to god it wasn't an accident either--”
She stomps on the floor one last time and then she's breathing normally and she's standing there, still in the middle of the room, frozen in place by frustration, clenching her fists, wearing nothing but pants and a bra.
You are at her side immediately, asking if there's anything you can do to help, before she nods and tells you yeah, she's pretty tired and she needs a snuggle buddy. You laugh and she kisses you, and then everything's alright, like she was never mad in the first place.
When she has a clean shirt on and you're spooning, you finally decide to ask the million dollar question. “So what happened?”
“Whitman keeps ruining all my takes, that's what.” She mutters angrily, pushing closer against you, as if your arms can calm her down (which isn't far from the truth after all).
“I was in the middle of interviewing Jonah about what it's like to be the only chef aboard when suddenly he rushes in and complains about how they don't have the kind of coffee he likes!” She sighs heavily, “Then he's sitting there for like twenty minutes complaining about how they should have this sort of coffee that no one has even heard of. I finally decide, well ok, guess this shot's done! And then he bumps against me on my way out and bam! Coffee spill.”
“Ah, don't you mean Doctor James Whitman?” You mimic his voice, a nasally whine, and she laughs, nodding into you. “Ahhhhhhhhh, oh dearest me, this coffee is soooo terrible Jonah! Don't you have any European-American-Cuban magical fairy dust coffee?” It's rolling off your tongue now, and you close your eyes and try to look pretentious as possible, “I'm in desperate need of a good snog.”
“Ooh, careful,” She purses her lips, trying not to laugh mid sentence, “Doctor James Whitman might have to take back his funding for this expedition!”
“Oh, but alas, My network isn't going to cover it all.” You throw your head back dramatically, “Ah, if only Sam were here to help me, along with her friend,” you pronounce 'friend' in the same manner he has been saying it this whole trip, as if you're not dating at all and are just 'special' friends.
“Mm yes, Lara Craft and Samantha, oh my god they're the cutest friends ever! Where are their boyfriends again?” Towards the end of her sentence, she snorts with laughter, and you join her, until the door opens and oh god it's him.
“Oh, uh, ladies.” Whitman brushes his hair back and coughs, but when you and Sam don't separate, he continues on, “I just wanted to apologize to you for ruining your shirt. I'll have one of the producers take care of that for you when we next port.”
“That's ok,” Sam huffs, “My girlfriend and I were just talking about how my dad is going to buy me the most expensive leather jacket they have in Tokyo.” You almost snicker at how ridiculous that sounds, but he believes it anyways, only slightly wincing when the word 'girlfriend' is uttered.
Whitman doesn't offer to pay for that, just makes things increasingly uncomfortable before he finally takes his leave.
“Do you think if we just started making out in front of him he'd just stand there awkwardly?” Sam asks, and when you grin, she kisses you deeply.
Whitman does seem to further complicate the filming process, not failing to ruin every shot that Sam takes. Finally, Roth has to sit him down and ask him if he'd please try to work things out and just go on with the Jonah-fish interview. He agrees, and then there you are, assisting Sam, trying to see first hand how he messes things up.
You're holding the camera this time- Sam is too worried that she'll get it ruined by a flying fish- so you try your best, although the film is going to turn out shaky.
“...And you just take the fish like this,” Jonah explains, holding the bass in front of him and pointing to a spot on it's belly, “Just cut down here.”
Whitman looks uneasy, and when he tries to turn the fish over belly-side up, the bass slips out of his hands and falls to the floor. He dropped the bass, you think, smiling widely, and you think of saying your brilliance aloud but then he's storming off, and everyone is groaning.
“Whitman!” Jonah calls out, and he's about to go after him, but then Sam's stepping forward instead. “I'll go get him,” She sighs, and glances at you for a second before she runs after him.You shuffle uncomfortably as arguing is heard in the distance, and you're about to just stop filming entirely but then there she is, Sam leading Whitman back onto the deck. He picks up the fish again, and then a spew of loud cursing is coming out of his mouth as the knife catches his finger and you shut the camcorder immediately.
“That's a lot of blood,” Alex muses to himself, not bothering to run off and get a bandage from him. Whitman glares at him, holding his finger, and eventually, he does get a bandage from Reyes.
“We'll finish shooting tomorrow,” Sam mumbles dejectedly, gently taking the camcorder from you. You give her a reassuring smile, and she mirrors it, but you know that she has no hope for anything Whitman is going to be in.
“They're totally screwing each other!”
You nearly spit out the water in your mouth, wondering if this has what it's come to, you being boring in your cabin, researching and looking at maps when Sam slams in and tells you about whatever she filmed that day.
This, though- this you have to hear.
“Who is?” You manage to sputter from your desk as she sprawls herself out on the bed, giggling madly. Before you've even got the question fully out of your mouth, she's already telling you about it excitedly.
“Reyes and Roth!” She insists, pointing to her camera and smiling wickedly, “totally have the proof.” With that, she tosses you said camera, and luckily you're quick, otherwise it would have fallen to the floor. Sorry, she gestures when you look at her incredulously.
After a moment of watching the proof, as she likes to call it, you look up at her and stare at her for a long second before you speak, “Sam. This is just them going into the same room. It isn't proof.”
“It is though! Did you see the way Roth looks around towards the end, like he wants to make sure nobody is around to hear how loud--”
“Didn't we already prove that these walls are soundproof?” You say before you think, and she raises a brow before she argues again, “Yeah, sweetie, but this is like that kinda- how he knows that he's about to get it on with her!”
“Jesus,” You roll your eyes and then smile despite yourself, “You really are something.”
“Just you wait,” She climbs onto your lap, putting her arms around your neck and pulling you in, “We are going to come back to London and we are going to double date with them.”
The kitchen is busy, bustling with movement, arguments about food, comments about food, people getting food, and then there's you, bursting in the doors and trying to convince everyone to go where you're certain that you'll find the island.
“We've been going in circles for weeks now,” You argue, “We've got to try something else. And I know that this may seem dangerous, but-”
“Dangerous,” Grim chuckles, “Stupid, more like.” He continues shoving food in his mouth, and then there's chaos in the kitchen, hell's kitchen, so to speak. You really need to cool it with the puns.
“Lara, I mean, I trust you, but look at this,” Alex shows you the weather map for the Dragon's Triangle, “There's bad storms. Like really, really bad storms,” He mutters under his breath before he, too, is going back to eating.
“Shit, those look bad,” Sam mutters from beside you, mostly to yourself, and before you can ask her what she thinks on the matter, Roth stands and slams his hands on the table.
“Damn it, I'm the captain here! If Lara wants to go to the Dragon's Triangle, then damn it, that's where we are going. Anyone with further concerns can take it up with me.” His voice is gruff, effectively scaring everyone into submission. The arguments die down and then the kitchen is back to normal, arguments about food start, comments about food start, and people are getting food.
Shortly after the kitchen incident, you're walking with Roth, thanking him for standing up for you. “It's what you believe,” He explains, not having any of your apologies about riling everyone up. “Always trust your gut, Lara.”
You lean over the railing as he tells you about your father, how he used to be, and that she was a Croft. Eventually, the subject that was once danced around is brought up, and you blush crimson as he inquires, “So. You and Sam, huh?”
You fidget for a bit, before you nod your head, “Yeah. Me and Sam.” You feel good to be getting it off your chest; everyone but him knew about the relationship. You'd been scared, almost, of telling him, but now it feels natural, getting it out there like that.
You smile nervously, and then you're tearing up a little when he asks you, “Do you love her?”
Not even a beat passes when you automatically tell him, “Yes. I love her a lot,” You nod your head a lot, and wipe at your face quickly, hoping he won't notice the redness of your eyes.
He's quiet for a while, and you're worrying that he disapproves, but any hesitance is washed away as he grins and slams a hand down on your back.
“Nice job. Your father would've been so proud of you.”
Maybe there's a laughter not far off in the distance, maybe there isn't, you're not sure. All you know is that later on, in the cabin, Sam looks like she has a secret.
Another week easily slips past your fingertips, and the storms are getting bad, but you're not much worried- it's not like you have to go up on deck for anything, and Roth assures you all that this ship cannot be sank.
Mostly, your time is spent mushed up against Sam in the cramped space of your shared bed, talking for hours on end, holding her close to you when you sleep as if when you awake she won't be there anymore.
On a particularly bad weather day, you are writing another entry in your journal when Sam comes up from behind and places kisses on your jawline.
She doesn't move to another place, just keeps pressing soft kisses there, and she doesn't speak, just holds you close to her, and when she notices your confusion, she pulls away from you and moves to clamber onto your lap.
“Do you think it's a good idea? Going here, I mean,” She's uncharacteristically quiet, her words barely audible, and you know something's wrong. “I know the island is here,” you assure her, a sternness in your voice that you only use on rare occasions.
“I know, I know, and I trust you on that. But it's just- god, I don't even know. These storms are getting worse and worse and it's scary, I guess.” She presses her face into your neck, and you're silent, just listening to her soft breathing, and you think she must hear how your pulse quickens because then she's the one who is looking at you with concern.
“Don't be scared,” You murmur, putting your arms around her and squeezing slightly, “Everything is going to be alright. And if it isn't, just know that I'll always be there to save you, ok?"
She seems to accept your answer, because then she's buried into your neck again and the only sound you can hear is thunder rolling in the distance.
“Sweetie,” Sam mutters tiredly from your side, waking up from her sleep and looking at you, a confused look spreading on her face. “Are you seriously researching this late at night?”
“Yes,” you say, taking an ear bud out of your ear, kissing her on the cheek and then going back to reading, ignoring her when pushes you playfully.
“Oh, shit,” She says suddenly, sitting up and climbing over you, “I forgot to get my pack back from Jonah!”
You look at her incredulously, “do you need to get it back right this moment?”
“Yes!” She's fully awake now, throwing a jacket on and pulling jeans onto her legs, “Oh god, if he looks at that footage I took last night--”
“Well, lets just say,” She refuses to look you in the eye,”It's going to be an awkward trip if uh,” She fumbles with her boots, “Yeah. It's just going to be really awkward.”
“That blinking that I saw- it was the camera!”
“Yes, sweetie,” She says, embarrassed, and gives you a peck on the lips before rushing from the room, closing the door quietly behind her, lest anyone else is awake.
Deciding that you've done enough reading for tonight, you gently toss the journal onto the desk and pull out your phone, wondering if anyone had sent you any emails about the trip yet. It's been only a week since you last docked, but you figure if anyone back in England needed to contact you, they would do it via the phone.
You check the time on your phone- 10:59.
It's getting really late, and you are thinking that you should try and get some rest, but before you can do anything else, the boat lurches, hard, like it's never done before. Another hard shake and then your bed tilts and you slam into the floor, your phone scattering out of your reach, sliding down the tilted tile, and then the alarm sounds and the lights are red.
Starting to panic, you run to the door and slam it open, but before you can take a step out the door, the boat cracks and water floods inside, taking you with it, causing your head to collide into a pole. The back of your head stings, and the edges of your vision start to go black, but you push yourself up towards a hatchet in the ceiling, banging with all of your strength.
Please, oh god, anyone, save me!
You try to say the words, and you realize too late that you shouldn't waste your breath, nobody can hear your screaming through the dark water and your lungs start to run out of air. You stay there, at the hatchet, watching the bubbles go up from your mouth and nose and then disappear, and then you're drifting backwards and you think that you're going to die.
Sam,Is your last thought, before your vision goes black almost entirely.
When you finally stop struggling, your lungs stop working properly, the hatchet slams open and a hand reaches down to you and pulls you up roughly. You breathe in deeply and start to cough, and before you know it Roth is running up the destroyed remains of half of the ship and is calling for you to follow.
A determination hits you then, and the willpower to live is almost overwhelming. Adrenaline pumps through your veins as you launch yourself forward, sprinting towards the edge of the half, dodging pipes and exposed wires that threaten to trip you.
“Jump!” You hear Roth yell faintly through the storm, waiting on the other half of the ship, a scared expression on your face that you've never seen on him in your lifetime knowing him.
You don't hesitate, just run and then you're in mid air, and you think that you're not going to make it, and then Roth takes a hold of your arm and tries his best to pull you up a second time that hour.
You relax, briefly, thinking that it's alright, you've made it, but then you feel yourself sleeping and horror shows on his (and your) face, and you plummet down into the ocean.
It hurts, hurts far worse than you thought it would, and if it were any higher of a fall you know that you would have died, because the distance makes your impact feel like falling onto a wooden floor. You tumble under the water, and you nearly smash into rocks before you can manage to start swimming.
The waves crash and roll over the top of your head, making it hard for you to grab any air, pushing you down into the cold torrents, and its so exhausting that you nearly give up trying to fight; just letting go, letting the current take you where it wants, but then you think of Sam and how she might need you right now, how she'll need you even if she doesn't need your help immediately.
The next time a wave pushes you underwater, you spring back with a surprising force, and you breathe in deep and swim as hard as you can, and then you make contact with surface and before you know it you're on your back in the sand, coughing up water from your lungs.
When you get the strength to stand, you see in the distance, on top of a little sand dune, Reyes yelling something, Jonah rushing from person to person, and you can't see Sam or Roth, but you know they must be there.
“Hey!” You scream, knowing full well that the rain drowns you out, “I'm here! I'm here!” You wave your arms frantically, hoping they'll see you, because god damn your head hurts and you are so exhausted you don't even know if you can make it up there.
You're screaming so hard, trying to get your voice heard, battling the wind that carries your voice away from you, that you don't notice anyone else until something slams into you and everything goes black.