When Law awoke the next morning, and only because bright light was blinding him from the porthole, he immediately noticed something was wrong. His eyes flew open, and he found himself laying in his bedroom. Alone.
Turning to Summer's side of the bed, he could see the sheets were undisturbed, or at least placed back neatly. Placing a hand on the fabric, he frowned when it was cold. So she hadn't slept there in the past hour or two. Her scent was just barely detectable too. The clock said it was only 5:00 in the morning. When had she left the room?
Rising from under the covers, he rubbed at his face, wincing when his shoulder lifted above a resting position. He'd forgotten about the injury, and judging by the swelling and numbness, he'd have to redress it before too long. Standing, he went to get dressed.
Casper closed the door to his room, stifling a yawn as he scratched at his goatee. The halls were still dark, no one being up as early as him. He treaded the metal halls, the same walk he took everyday to the kitchen. A stray snore or two from nearby rooms made him grin. Upon arriving at the mess deck, he reached left and flicked on the light.
He stopped, spotting a certain blonde slumped over in one of the seats. "Summer?" She looked up slowly, revealing a watery set of violet eyes. She sniffed, wiping at her nose with her wrist.
"How are you holding up, lass?" He asked gently, moving to sit across from her. It was then he noticed a coffee mug between her curled hands, though whatever she'd been drinking had apparently been finishing awhile ago.
She sniffed again, trying to stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks. "Alright." She muttered, refusing to look away from the ceramic mug. Her cheeks were blotched red. She never wore much makeup, but the minimal mascara was smudged on the edges of her eyes, proving she'd been rubbing at crying eyes.
"You sure don't look alright." He said, giving a small grin. Glancing at the mug, he tapped the table to get her attention. "How about I make you another coffee?" He offered.
She huffed out a short laugh, tracing the top of the mug with her finger. "It wasn't coffee." She admitted. It was then that the familiar smell of alcohol found it's way to the cook's nose. He sniffed the air, just to be sure he wasn't imagining things.
"Have you been drinking? And…is that…scotch?" He questioned. She shrugged, tilting the mug left and right, inspecting it from all angles.
"Might be." She murmured. "Found it in the cupboard."
Casper rubbed the back of his head, deciding that he wasn't going to admit that it had been part of his secret stash of stronger alcohol. After drinking a whole mug of it, she probably wouldn't remember that detail anyway.
"You know it's a bit early in the day for alcohol?" He suggested, slowly reaching across to take the mug away from her. She let him, returning her hands to her lap where she probably twisted and fidgeted them unseen. "Why don't you just go back to bed and get some-"
"What does any of this matter anyway?" She mumbled, leaning her head against the back of the seat. Her eyes wouldn't focus, staring off to the side with the sort of concentration only someone who was drunk could accomplish.
Casper said nothing, waiting for her to continue. Eventually, she did.
"Why am I still fighting? What-hic-What is it that I'm looking for? Nemesis is gone. Madeline's gone. Viper's gone. The Doctor's gone! I'm the only one left!" She tried schooling her face back to indifference but only ended up looking more upset.
"Summer-"
"I don't get it!" She ranted, rubbing at her face roughly. Casper tried prying them from her face but she only set her head down on the table instead. "Why don't I just end it all just like the rest of them? There's no point in-"
"Summer, lass!" Casper interrupted, lifting her face with a hand. He looked shocked and appalled, which startled her into silence. His eyes were so full of concern, of worry, that she wasn't quite sure if she were sane or not. He shook his head, frowning deeply the next moment.
"Why would you even think like that?" She gulped, her vision fading in and out, probably because of the tears. Or the alcohol. Or both.
"I'm all alone now." She cried, trying to tear free of his hands. He held firm, forcing her eye contact.
"Are you blind?" He asked critically, and she choked back a sob. "You have an entire submarine full of men who would give up their lives, and almost did, to bring you back here."
She sniffed again. "Yeah, but-"
"You have a family, lass, a loving family who all care so much about you." He gently shook her, regaining her attention. "You are not alone. You've never been alone. We've always been right here. And damn it all if we let you start thinkin' like that."
"Then why does everything feel wrong? Why do I feel so…" She paused, eyes flicking back and forth to find the right word. "…so…weak?" She finally asked. The cook wiped away the two tracks of tears that ran down her cheeks, looking her in the eyes. When he answered he tried to put all the love and compassion he felt for her into his eyes, so she would see, so she would understand. Or believe him.
"You feel weak because you've been through so much, lass. You've been forced to put up with so much, in such a short time, and you've only just begun to heal. Wounds sting so soon afterwards. They're still raw, they bleed." He gave her a small smile, trying his best to reassure the broken young woman. "They'll heal in time. They'll reopen and hurt again, but they'll heal. Feeling weak doesn't mean you are weak."
"Casper-" She began, but he hadn't finished.
"Summer, you are stronger than most men could ever be. You've come out of everything you've experienced and still find good things around you."
She said nothing, but her eyes showed her doubt.
Casper raised an eyebrow. "Do you honestly think the Captain would keep you onboard if you were weak?"
She looked away. "No…"
"So what does that tell you?" He grinned, watching her squirm under his gaze. It took a while for her to answer.
"That I'm strong…"
"Exactly." He concluded, letting go of her so she could lean back in her seat. Summer looked up finally, most of her tears having been shed. The whites of her eyes were a strained red from stress.
"But…what if Law thinks I'm weak one day? What if he decides-"
"He won't."
"How can you be sure?" She frowned, rubbing at her face. He chuckled at the question.
"Haven't you figured that one out yourself?" She looked confused. Shaking his head, he stood up to head to the kitchen, mug in hand. "You're something special to the Captain. I don't think he could ever let you go."
He'd said all that he needed to. The best he could do for her now was leave her to think everything over, and so he gave her head a small pat before disappearing through the kitchen door.
Law stood outside in the hall, leaning against the wall. Watching from the shadows, he saw Summer rub her face to wipe away the tears and any evidence that she'd been crying. Casper's words seemed to have sobered her up because her eyes looked much clearer than they'd been previously.
It hurt. To see her so low, driven to drink before the day even started not even a full 12 hours after everything had resolved, it truly hurt. He was a doctor, dammit. If he couldn't even protect his own crew and those he held dear from such things, who was he to call himself Captain?
With a loud sniff, she stood from her seat and swayed back and forth as she walked closer to where he stood in the darkened hall. Silently, he disappeared the way he'd come.
He doubted she'd want to confront him at that moment. And he wasn't sure of what to say anyways. It was best to leave her by herself for the time being.
Summer wandered back down the hallway, which was still dark, and let her mind wander. She went where he feet took her, not bothering to think about a destination. She kept unconsciously searching for that fierce, almost motherly presence within her, coming up empty every time and feeling even worse than before.
Her heart ached. It hurt more than she'd ever remember feeling before. Even when Madeline had been ripped away from her, the innocent villagers of the numerous islands that had suffered in her wake, she'd never felt this broken.
She appreciated the silence. Honestly after everything that had happened, all the action and excitement, it felt good to just hear and feel…nothing. Almost like she was numb.
Her steps carried her, propelling her in a direction she couldn't seem to recall where it ended. All the way up until she stopped in front of the door, she wouldn't have been able to answer where she was going. Looking up, she blankly stared at the wood of her bedroom door.
It had been awhile, at least a week, since she'd slept in the bed. There was one thing she could remember, the feeling of awe and wonder at the novelty of having something that belonged solely to her. A room all her own…
Turning the handle, she stepped into the gloom. Flicking the switched bathed everything in the pale yellow light from above, and she looked around at her few possessions.
The photos.
Her eyes beheld the many photographs from her time on the sub, all with her own handwritten captions below them. Her gaze swept the shelf, glancing from face to face and recalling the exact moments that had been captured.
So many people, all who called her friend.
All at once, it hit her like a train. She'd felt there was a problem, something holding her back from feeling what she felt before. There was a gap in her heart, in her mind. Something was missing. And a solution, though generic, instantly cleared her head.
Something had to change. Something.
'I could dye my hair.' She thought, but decided that it was too mundane. It wouldn't erase the pain, only cover it for a time before the blonde would begin to show through.
'I could change my name.' As quickly as she'd formed the idea it was dismissed. Her name was a badge, a symbol to all that she was. The thought of changing it felt like she was running from what she was, which was the exact opposite of the whole purpose of changing. No, that wouldn't do.
The thoughts kept coming. She could run away. Choose another job to do on board. Have a one night fling. Do something she knew was stupid. Start smoking. Start drinking. Wear completely different clothes. The more she thought the more ridiculous the ideas became.
She continued looking at the photos, noticing subtle but consistent details in all the pictures. They were under sleeves, poking behind the collar of a uniform, behind ears and on wrists. All the same thing.
Her eyes took in the familiar symbol, and her mind wrapped around it, over and over. The thought kept getting more appealing the longer she thought, and finally Summer knew. She smiled through the fog of sorrow.
Something would definitely change. Permanently.
It wasn't difficult sneaking off the submarine. No one besides Casper was awake. After returning to her room for a jacket, she left the yellow vessel behind and walked down the gangplank to the dock below.
For being so early in the morning, the city was certainly still busy. Fishers heading out for the early catches were readying their boats and checking lines. Ladies in clothing that couldn't be any more revealing lined the alleys, waiting for the occasional morning john to walk by. Shop owners washed windows and tidied displays. The bakery and the food shops produced heavenly scents, wafting across the square and filling her nose with thoughts of homemade bread and rolls.
Ignoring the homely part of town, she went straight for the first alley she saw. The sort of shop she was looking for wouldn't be placed on the main street. Though she did stay away from the particularly ragged alleys. The thought of such filth was a bit discouraging, but she trekked on, determined to see through with her idea.
She thought of it before, long before she'd been kidnapped and taken from her family. But it had only been a fleeting thought, a fanciful notion that perhaps she'd fulfill one day. But now it was real, it was happening.
Passing by a tailor's, she spotted a rusty sign with blotches of once-bright colors underneath the dirt. The windows were cloudy with dirt and smudged from fingerprints from the inside. Taking a deep breath, she pushed through the door into the dimly lit shop.
The sound of buzzing immediately caught Summer's attention. A cash register sat at a desk in the corner, and further back, two curtains separated the room. Behind one, a man was grunting in pain as the buzzing continued.
The drawings of wild and strange things jumped out at the blonde. They were everywhere, papers displaying tribal designs and intimidating depictions of skulls and daggers, and the nicer hearts and rainbows for the truly pure at heart. Summer glanced around the walls and ceiling covered in different concept drawings. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a door at the back open, and a woman stepped through.
Her purple hair was shaved on the left half of her head, the right was long and flowed down her shoulder. Her left arm and most of her upper chest was adorned in black ink, most of which seemed to be letters and numbers. Summer couldn't understand what any of it said or meant by the time the woman had approached the front desk.
"You want a tattoo?" She asked bluntly. Summer nodded.
"Hmm…" The purple-haired woman walked towards Summer, who stood still, and circled the blonde with a critical eye. She rounded her several times before saying anything, and Summer started getting the feeling that she was being sized up, measured, and already being made into a visual template. It was kind of creepy.
"You a scrub?" She asked. Summer blinked at the unfamiliar term. The lady rolled her eyes. "Never gotten a tattoo before?"
"Oh. No, this is my first one." She admitted. Purple hair nodded with a smirk.
"Thought so. Anyways, what do you got in mind?" Summer reached for her bag, where she dug out a picture she'd taken earlier.
"I want to get this design." The lady took the picture and inspected it. She pursed her lips, nodding and humming to herself for several seconds. "Kinda simple. Don't know what the hell it is but hey." She glanced back up at Summer.
"Where at?"
Summer thought about it long and hard, finally pointing towards the front of her right shoulder. "Here. And I want it about this big." She made her fingers into a circle about the size of a baseball.
"Colors just like the original?" Summer nodded. "Alright, well for something simple like this, with minimal color at the size you want will be about 500 beli base pay and 15 beli per hour for labor."
The price was a bit higher than what she expected, but she'd come prepared for any situation. Pulling out the beli she'd saved up from her travels, she placed it onto the desk with a grin. As intimidating as this woman and what she was about to do felt, she was actually pretty excited.
"When can we get started?"
ns 15.158.61.8da2
