Judgement Night 0109.30

Bullet comes in from the Corridor. Bullet has arrived.

Even though there is no one to announce your arrival into the room, your presence places a palpable chill on the large room. Those members of the crew that are not sleeping catch a glimpse of your expression and your stance, and quickly leave the room. "Evening Captain," and "Cheers Captain," are all muttered softly as they leave you alone with the sleepers, and Crowe. Crowe is in his bunk. His being in the middle row, far left end bunk. He is lying on his back, and if he is breathing, it's barely noticable from your current vantage point.

Bullet doesn't even make a motion towards any of the crew members to return thier hellos, or goodnights as the case may be, he walks up towards the bed where Crowe is sleeping, his hands in his pocket. He looks over the sad display in front of him, all of his own creation. He's having very mixed emotions deep within him, but is still maintaining his cruel exterior. As far as any of the crew knows, he's here to finish off the job. He doesn't say anything as he looks down at Crowe, and watches his tiny body.

There isn't a mark on his young delicate face, not one created by your hand directly anyway. However, where a face would be relaxed in sleep, this one is pinched in pain, you doubt he is even really asleep if he holds that expression. His chest, bare now save for the crude binding around it, rises and falls with a staggered, rough motion. Crowe's nose moves a bit, a few quick inhales. He doesn't need to open his eyes, he knows your scent, and can tell just how close you are to him using his nose. Slowly, his tongue slips out, wetting his lips, then in a soft voice, stressed with pain, he speaks. "Finish it." is all he says.

Bullet sighs.. he really did a number on you, and he knows it. He leans down to you, and says, "I didn't come here to do that." as if there's something wrong with your hearing. Or maybe he just doesn't want anyone else to hear. You can feel his arms coming underneath of your back, and underneath of your legs. "You're coming with me." He says softly, apparently whereever your going, he plans on carrying you.

Crowe flinches as you move your mouth close to his ear, a reflexive motion of fear, then you speak your intentions, and move to lift him from the bunk. He considers fighting you. If nothing, perhaps if he angers you enough, you will finish him. The sharp pain in his broken rib drives a cry from him, cutting all thoughts of struggle or insurrection from his mind. "Just do it... here..." he gasps, apparently not believing you do not intend on murdering him.

Bullet winces at the cry. No one likes to hear cries of pain in their ear. He picks you up quickly and walks you out.

Bullet lays you down carefully in the middle of his bed. (And he didn't trip this time!) He doesn't struggle under your weight at all, and even tried to be wary of your chest as he brought you in (well as much as you can, he's not carrying you in an extrememly comfrotable manner). He sits himself down on the edge of the bed and looks down at you, "I understand from our new second mate that your injuries are... serious."

Crowe makes small noises of pain as you move him and at last lay him down on your bed. He opens his eyes, just to confirm where you have brought him, then looks over at you with narrowed green eyes, "Aye.... Captain." he forces out. "You did YOUR job well enough." he says, then has to pant for air before continuing, "So have at me... as you will then finish it!" he hisses. He closes his eyes briefly, panting again until he has enough wind to say, "I'm not the traitor Captain. Believe as you will..." he says, then closes his eyes again. It is then you feel his hand resting on your pistol at your side. He is still stealthy, you didn't even see him move his hand to it.

Bullet coughes slightly and looks down at the hand on his pistol, "Now this is an interesting thing here..." He speaks softly, "You seem to have put your hand on my gun, this is a very dangerous position for you, and for myself the way I see it." He doesn't move, he just looks at you, "Well, I will go ahead and tell you what I'm thinking, and then we will see what you do with that there.." He takes a very deep breath and says, "I didn't intend on making your injuries .. severe.." He really seems to be having a very difficult time with words. "I brought you into my room, so you could perhaps rest a little more comfortably. I wouldn't want any of the crew trying to take advantage of you in your state." He brings his left hand up and runs it through your hair. "This is not what I intended... since I have told you what I was planning.. I would hope you grant me the same knowledge... why is your hand on my pistol?"

Crowe listens to what you have to say, his hand not moving from the gun. Slowly his eyes open to regard you, and for the first time, they have the cold iciness of your own. "You Bastard... You know none on this boat will have me save for you..." he says in a hiss, pausing to catch his breath again, "Take the pistol, and finish me. If you do not..." he stops again, drawing in a raspy breath, "If you do not trust me to watch your back, your ship... Why..." pause, pant. "Do you trust me to take your drunken lust, and then sleep at your side... while you lie helpless?" he forces out, then closes his eyes, and his hand drops from the hold on your pistol.

Bullet sighs softly. It's surprising how quickly positions can change. Once your hand is off of the pistol, he stands up and walks away from the bed. He removes his long coat, and his belt, placing them both in a corner. He walks back over to you and sits back down. Apparently he wanted to remove any item that _he_ had. A sign of surreneder? Not likely, but it's a sign of some sort. Inside him, he feels a deep rot in his belly. "I.." He places his hand on his chin and cracks his neck. "Fuck." How very communative. "If that man, was in the royal guard, you or I could be hanging by the throat right now. I held you resposible because you were there... and.. you were the wrong person to blame.." He coughes slightly, and whispers almost under his breath, "I'm sorry." It's not like that changes your position or his. "I shouldn't have broken you, but I did."

Crowe takes several long, shuddering breathes before speaking again. When his eyes open, twin cold emeralds look at you, "You hurt me... you did not...." he stops to catch a breath, "You did not BREAK me." he growls soflty. "If one of Blood's cronies hadn't been on watch, he...." pause, pant. "He woudn't have gotten aboard." he spits, weak voice still full of venom. He blinks slowly, letting his eyes remain closed as he rests now, "I hear your words Captain, thank you..." he says in a softer tone giving you absolution perhaps?

Bullet sighs and runs his hair nervously through his hair. He seems to be shaken having seen how much he hurt you, and there's no question at this point he's sorry for it. It seems somehow those few words menaged to break through the entire mold he has set himself up to be. Just for a second, at least to himself, he doesn't seem like the captain, inside for a second, he feels just as broken as you look. He says quietly, "You are relieved of your duties until your injuries are 'not serious' anymore, you may stay in my bed, you may use my 'things'. Do not expect this sort of treatment when you are healthy again, but seeing as I caused you this, somewhat unjustifibly, I will try to make it easier on you to get better." Even now, he almost sounds like he is talking aloud to ease his own worries, let alone your actual ailments.

Crowe tilts his head toward you and slowly his eyes open. "Your kindnesses are appreciated Captain, and will not..." he pauses. "Squandered or shared." You sense this means your kindness showed to him will not go reported to any he speaks to. "And.... I shall strive to be all that you want.... me to be ... Captain." he says, watching you closely. It is at that moment you realize just how perceptive he is, how like Charlamange said. You know with a sniff and a glance he knows more about you, and your rotten soul than you even do.

Bullet nods, "Aye.. of course you will be." He responds in an apperciate manner, as if some bit of burden was lifted off of him. He pulls the large blanket up around your chest, and then stands up from the bed and looks over you, "You.. you should get some sleep Crowe." He notes, stating the obvious. He walks over to a large chest, where all of his bed items that are not in use are stored. There's a large creak as he opens it up. He pulls out a large blanket and places it on the floor, before shutting the chest. He places his coat and belt ontop of the blanket, and picks up the mess. "I am going to go sleep on the couch in my receiving room.." He pauses, not quite sure how to have food brought to you, if he doesn't want anyone to see how he's 'treating' you. "I'll bring you your food tommorow..." He notes.

Crowe watches you prepare to leave the room, and with the look into your eyes, he lets you know that he knows why you are doing this. It is for your benefit alone, not his. This does not mean that he does not notice the change in your or his appreciation of the act. "Captain should not serve his servant." he says softly, then after a breath adds, "Perhaps if you were to have your meal brought to your... lounge... " pause, breath. "The leftovers of a large meal would be more.... than enough for one as small as I..." he says, again, giving you the way to save face. "As for anything you desire Captain. You need only ask..." he says with a softer look in his eyes. "I would not sleep well if I knew...." another pause and breath breaks his speech. "I would not sleep any better with you on the couch Captain. Your snores are heard by Davy Jones himself...." he says with a slight smirk then closes his eyes again.

Bullet snickers to himself as he heads out of the room. He says nothing, but his mind is going. It had crossed his mind that if he rolled over, he could potentially hurt you more, but the underlying idea, and one that the Captain is still far from admitting to himself, is that he just doesn't want to lie the bed he's made.