Blurred Horizons

Ben was always careful not to get stabbed or shot when he engaged in battle. Even being protected by the power of the amulet hadn't made him reckless in that regard. But accidents did happen, and he knew exactly where the stupid wound on his side had come from. He'd intervened when he saw a man trying to rob a teenaged girl, not knowing the man had an accomplice lurking in the shadows of the alley way. The man had sprung out and given Ben a nice slice down his side. It had stung like hell at the time, but not enough to stop Ben from knocking out the man's remaining front tooth. The cut had healed itself shut before he even made it back to the ship, leaving unmarried skin behind.

Now, it did more than sting. It made every movement painful. Even taking deep breaths hurt. After he gave the crew orders to set sail for Trinidad immediately at full speed, he went to the quartermaster's cabin, where they had put Doc so that he'd have room and privacy to administer medical assistance. Doc was there waiting for him, watching in concern as Ben shut the door and leaned against it, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Let me have a look, Ben." Doc gestured for him to sit down on the makeshift hospital bed Doc had put together. Ben sat gingerly, trying not to wince as he pulled his shirt off. Doc fetched a clean wet cloth and washed some of the blood away before splashing it with some rum. Ben grimaced.

"Sweet mother of Christ, that feels awful," he grumbled.

"I'm not surprised. This injury is no laughing matter, Captain."

"You don't need to call me that when we're alone," Ben said, his tone sharp. Doc seemed unperturbed.

"All right. For starters we need to keep it very clean, or else you could end up with an infection like Ivan did. I'm going to stitch it up as best I can, and from there we'll simply need to keep a close eye on it and hope for the best." He gave Ben a sympathetic look as he told him to lie down.

"It is most unfortunate that this should happen right after your wedding," he said quietly. "So while congratulations are in order, I suppose I should also be saying I'm terribly sorry."

"You didn't stab me," Ben said.

Doc gathered more cloths and rum and needle and thread. He cleaned and sterilized the wound further, making Ben hiss in pain. Doc was quick about sewing the gash closed. Ben lay still as stone, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched.

"Be careful with it," Doc warned when he finished. "Try not to pull those stitches out."

Ben nodded, climbing stiffly off the bed and heading back to the deck. He did his best to walk normally and give no sign anything was wrong. That was all the crew needed now; their real captain acting strangely and their acting captain dying of a months old stab wound that had appeared out of nowhere. Ben shook his head. He couldn't let himself think that way. He wasn't dying. He would make it through this. He had to.

Somehow he made it through the rest of the day with no one seeming to be the wiser about his predicament. After dinner, he retreated to the captain's cabin, his side on fire. He sank into the edge of the bed with a groan. The door opened and Scarlett stepped in. She saw him bent over and taking shallow breaths and rushed to kneel in front of him.

"Ben?" she said, brushing his hair out of his face.

"I'm fine, love," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

"You are not fine. What did Doc say?"

"He stitched it up. It's a bit sore but I'll be good as new in no time."

"Don't lie to me, Ben," she whispered, tracing his cheek with her fingertips.

"I'm not lying," he protested. "I'll be okay, Scarlett. I promise. If I can survive being shot with a laser gun and taking a tumble off a cliff even before we had the amulet I'm sure I can handle a silly little scratch."

He reached out to wipe away a tear that had begun trailing down her face.

"Don't cry over me, Madi, please. You're not going to lose me." He stood and pulled her up with him, kissing her deeply.

"You should lie down," she murmured. "You'll need to be really gentle with those stitches."

She climbed into the bed and he gingerly followed, trying to find a position to lay in that was relatively comfortable. Laying on his back just seemed to pull his stitches so he lay on his right side, curled up slightly. Scarlett scooted over and placed his head in her lap again, gently stroking his hair.

"I need to organize the supplies below decks tomorrow," Ben muttered.

"Make someone else do it," Scarlett said dismissively. "You're in no condition to be flinging around heavy barrels and crates."

"Scarlett I still have responsibilities aboard this ship."

"Your responsibility is getting well," she said sternly. "I need you, Ben. And not just to run this ship. I can't possibly go on and take care of this child without you. I'm terrified I'll do something horribly wrong and ruin him or her forever."

Ben chuckled. "You've faced down magic islands, raging storms and ruthless pirates without batting an eye but a five pound person who can't even walk scares you. You are a puzzling woman, my love."

"Hush. This five pound person will be depending on me. And it's not all that I'm scared of, if I'm being completely honest. I was petrified before the wedding."

Ben tensed, turning his head to look up at her with a concerned frown. "Why didn't you say anything? We didn't have to go through with it if you didn't want to."

"I didn't say I didn't want to," Scarlett said, flicking him lightly on the nose. "I was just having jitters, that's all."

"But...you're okay about it now, right?"

"We're married, aren't we?" Scarlett smiled and kissed his forehead. "I like being Mrs. Griffith. It has a nice ring to it. No pun intended," she added, laughing slightly. Ben smiled, though a trace of worry lingered in the back of his mind. Scarlett nodded off eventually but Ben remained awake. It was difficult to get comfortable enough to sleep. He didn't like to think that Scarlett was so apprehensive about their future. It bothered him, not knowing how to put her mind at ease. And now he had this knife wound to contend with. He was lost in his dark brooding when there were shouts on deck and the ship pitched roughly to the side.

Ben fell out of the bed, landing on his stomach and gritting his teeth so he didn't cry out. Scarlett startled awake in bed as he was pushing himself back to his feet.

"Are you all right?" she gasped.

"I'm fine," Ben said, holding her off as she tried to check his wound. "We need to see what's going on, Scarlett. Don't worry about me."

"Ben!" She pointed to the amulet. It was flashing erratically, growing bright and then dimming to almost nothing. Ben and Scarlett exchanged a look, then he followed her out onto deck, both of them stumbling because the ship was bucking like a wild stallion. Outside, the sky above them was filled with black clouds and the sea was roiling and churning violently.

"What the hell is going on?" Scarlett shouted.

"It's a storm!" Stephen replied. "It came out of nowhere! But it's..."

"It's what?" Scarlett snapped.

"It's only over our ship, Captain." Stephen pointed and Ben saw that he was right. Over them loomed bruise colored sky, but beyond them the sky remained blue and clear.

"It must be the amulet," Scarlett breathed. The ship lurched again. Ben staggered against the railing, and his heart sank into his feet. A huge whirlpool was forming off the bow of the ship. Scarlett grabbed onto the helm, desperately trying to help Stephen steer the ship out of its path, but it was no use. The Spirit creaked and groaned as it lurched forward into the frothing water. Ben spun around, reaching out toward Scarlett as she stared down into the whirlpool in horror. His fingers just brushed hers as the ship plummeted into the watery depths.

********

Ben woke up with sunlight steaming down on his face. He blinked and squinted up at the sky, confused. Why was he outside? And why did his body hurt so bad? He sat up slowly, finding himself on an island he didn't recognize. After a moment, everything came rushing back.

"Scarlett," he croaked, looking around frantically for some sign of her. The Spirit was anchored near the shore, somehow miraculously unharmed. The beach he was on stretched further than he could see in both directions. He tried to struggle to his feet, falling back down with a groan of pain. He lifted his shirt to inspect his side, finding that the fall through the whirlpool had torn his stitches and reopened the cut. He was bleeding steadily again.

"Devil take it," he muttered. He made a halfhearted attempt to retire the broken stitches, though it didn't help much and touching the cut made his vision go a little blurry. Finally he forced himself to stand up, wobbling briefly like a newborn foal.

"You look pale as a ghost, matey." The unfamiliar speaker laughed heartily, as through he'd just made the best joke ever. Ben turned around to find a man dressed in pirate garb, but he was definitely not a member of Ben's crew.

"Who are you?" Ben asked. "What is this place?"

"This is the place pirates go to die." The man said it matter-of-factly. Ben wondered if he was insane.

"What I'd like to know is how you of all people wound up aboard my ship," the pirate went on. "You don't seem like the type that would've been taken onto the crew of the Silver Spirit."

Ben stared at him. "Beg pardon?"

"That's my ship you somehow steered here, boy."

"That ship belongs to Scarlett Rose," Ben said tersely. The man laughed.

"Aye, I suppose it does, since I made her captain of it."

It took a moment for his words to sink in, and when they did it hair made the dull throbbing in Ben's skull worse.

"You're Phineas?" he asked. "But you're dead."

"Too right you are. Now you know who I am. Who the hell are you?"

"I'm...Scarlett's first mate."

"Should've known the stupid girl would go soft," Phineas snorted. "You don't seem fit to run a pirate ship. She must keep you around for your pretty face."

"Shut up," Ben snarled. Phineas just laughed, and Ben wished he could run him through. He was well aware what sort of man Phineas was. Or had been, rather. He circled back to the idea that Phineas was dead.

"Where am I?" Ben demanded.

"The place where the realms touch. Think of it as a sort of in between place, where the living and the dead can occupy the same space."

"Brilliant," Ben muttered under his breath. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I need to find my captain."

"I'm sure you do." Phineas gave a dark chuckle. "You'll be wanting to find your crew and get out of here before that nasty gash on your side prevents you from leaving."

Ben's steps faltered only slightly. He didn't look back or ask Phineas what he meant. He kept a hand pressed to his side and moved as swiftly as he was able up the beach, desperate to find Scarlett.