Damned By the Tide

Rating: T

Summary: Pirate!AU Lovino was only defending his twin brother from pirates on their island, he had never meant to get captured. He had never meant to become the play thing of the most renowned pirate in the seven seas. He had never meant to fall in love with him. But what did Fate care if he was going mad? Nothing, that's what. SpaMano

BrooklynBabbii

.:Seven:.

No Title (A Cello Plays)
by Simkha Shayevitch

A cello plays a death song in the yard
And the wind cries a night lament
I lie quiet near the door
And hear my blood laugh like a joker in me.

When Lovino awoke, he knew two things:

One, this wasn't his cot.

Two, someone was staring at them pretty hard.

He opened his eyes, begrudgingly, and was welcomed into consciousness by a puff of warm smoke in his face. He suppressed the gag that should have followed such an action, shutting his eyes to blink out the sting before he made to glare up at the bastard – oh, Antonio. Of course it was the Captain.

"Finally, you're awake," the Spaniard grunted, taking another inhale of his pipe. "Good, now you can get the Hell out of my bed." The Italian glared at him briefly before rolling his eyes and rising from the warm bed. He combed his fingers through his bangs firstly; making a face at the grime that only he could feel before he raised his arms above his hand to stretch out the kinks out of his back. The Spaniard didn't spare him a glance, just continued to smoke on his pipe, staring hard at a spot on his bed.

Lovino almost made to make it and that's when he felt eyes on him again. He didn't like it. That look – it made his skin prickle, unnerving, and he let the disheveled bed be. He acted like it didn't even bother him, crossing his arms behind his head and turning around to walk out when the Spaniard spoke up again.

"Check on the medic, will ya?" Antonio said, letting a trail of smoke out of his nose. "He's being asking for you all morning, it was starting to get on my nerves." He made a face of disgust and the Italian almost gave him one back. "Dismissed," he said lastly, going back to stare at his bed. The archer had to wonder if the man was thinking about getting into his bed. Had he even slept that night? Lovino couldn't tell – but he sure didn't remember anyone sleeping with him either.

He snorted, turning fully on his heel to leave, not looking back this time. The door shut well behind him, as it should. He frowned at it, glaring at the doorknob that he was still holding onto as if it had offended him. Maybe it had, pretty much everything on this ship irked him. Unless the Italian had just accepted the offending object or person as just something he had to live with on the ship.

The hallway was empty; nobody was in it at this time of day. Especially not when the ship was at a port, the pirates were most likely enjoying themselves in the town, hopefully, not causing a scene. It was quiet, save for the sound of the gentle lull of the waves on the sides of the ship and the usual port chatter and distant calls of voices giving orders.

Despite how he should have been used to it by now, Lovino hated the chatter.

It was nothing like home.

This wasn't a home.

He sighed, breaking his hold on the doorknob before he broke it and stalked off to do what Antonio had told him to do. Usually he would purposely not follow the bastard's orders just to spite him, but in this case – he was following them because he knew the medic must have been worried about him. The little man tended to be more of a worry wart than Feliciano-

Biting back the noise that almost escaped him, the Italian took a deep breath before the memory of his younger brother triggered something in his mind. He gave a careful look around of where he was – found his right foot on the second to top stair to get out of the Captain's quarters and onto the main deck.

He sighed. He was losing his mind on this ship. Once he found the medic, he was going to take some time off and run about the town. Walk around, see a few shops and wares and maybe pretend to haggle for a tomato if this foreign market had any. Yea, a tomato sounded good about now. Maybe that would be just the thing to clear his head…

Nodding to himself with his decision, he finished the short stairs and felt the crisp air kiss his checks. It had seemed warmer below deck or maybe he hadn't really noticed how cold it was getting. He would need thicker or warmer clothes soon, maybe both. He couldn't sew to save his life. That had been Feliciano's job-

He gritted his teeth, stomping past two barrel chested men who gave him a look before he glared at them and they rolled their eyes and left him alone. Where were this thoughts coming from, he had to wonder as his hand subconsciously found his rosary on his neck. Amber eyes scanning for the medic's signature braid of curly hair among the other pirates. When he didn't find him immediately, he almost frowned but then a familiar accented voice calling out his name.

"There ya are," the medic was practically grinning in relief. His hands almost rose to touch the Italian's face to check for bruises or underlying cracks in his jaws but he stopped himself. His relief has already melted into serious concern. "Are ya alright? Some crew sayin' they saw ya come out of the Captain's quarters…" The medic frowned, "Did he do anythin' to you…?"

Lovino raised a brow, shaking his head in reply. But instead of seeing it as an end of that conversation or at least a change in topic, the medic continued to press. "Lovino, what's wrong – please tell me." Lovino didn't like the possible tone of pity and his eyes hardened. "Why were ya in the Captain's rooms?"

"Why are you bein' so nosy?" The archer snapped, without thinking, and then sighed as the medic's frown deepened. "Nothin'– there's nothing wrong. Just…just leave it."

But when he looked up to meet the medic's eyes, he knew that he didn't believe him. Whatever. It wasn't Lovino's problem to be bothered if the other believed him or not, it would just make things between them smoother. The medic seemed to care way too much sometimes, either a mother hen or an overprotective and paranoid advisor. It depended on the day.

In their case, for that afternoon, it was awkward. Lovino refused to acknowledge the tension, choosing to ignore it and further his Spanish in one of the medic's textbooks. They were all probably stolen, he was almost sure of it. Some of them seemed way too nice. The medic did not have that much money to spend for just books.

It wouldn't have surprised him; everything on this ship was probably stolen. Maybe even the crew, if Antonio was just that big of a dick. It was always a possibility.

"Um, so how did your night go?" That had to be the fourth time that the medic was asking the Italian that question, fishing for an answer that he was not going to receive. "Did you do anythin' nice?"

Lovino grunted. His grunts were the most that he had replied to the other brunet.

The medic bit his lip again, scribbling something down on his journal, frowning down at the yellowed papers, "Yea - well - I met an old friend again in town last night, that's why I was late coming back to the ship if ya were looking for me." The Italian might have been looking for him, maybe, but he sure wasn't looking for him now. Not if this was what he would have found. "We started talkin' and I guess we lost track of time, yeah…"

Lovino grunted.

The medic tried, "When I got home – err, back to the ship – I looked fo' you. But ya weren't on your bed. No one up had seen ya leave a second time so I 'sumed ya had kinda run off and I was scared that something happened-"

Lovino made a loud noise of exasperation. He was getting really tired of this conversation really fast.

" –and then the Captain was sulkin' 'bout on ta streets and smokin' and I tried to ask him," the medic said, frowning as he remembered the night. Obviously he and his friend hadn't been drinking too bad – well, maybe they had. He was frowning and his brow was pinching a bit like he was having difficulty. "Anywho – he told me to get my arse onboard before he cut me down where I stood."

At the end of his short tale, the medic was rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. Lovino didn't return his smile, giving him a flat look instead, before he turned back to his book with a scoff. He missed the short-lived sad look that the medic held on his face for the briefest of seconds. He licked his lips, biting down on them before he sighed softly.

"Honestly, Lovino, I thought something bad had happened," the medic tried. "I thought the Captain was coverin' for ya bein' snatched or kidnapped or something-"

"Oh Dio mio!" Lovino shouted, finally done with the mindless chatter. "What the Hell do you think happened?"

"You came out of his rooms – the crew saw ya," the medic said, narrowing gray eyes. "They said they saw ya comin' from that way this mornin'."

"When?" Lovino snapped, "Who did you ask?"

"Doesn't matter," the other snapped back. "What happened – you won't even let me check for any injuries. If somethin' happened, tell me – or did he threaten ya?"

"What do you think happened – I slept with him?" Lovino asked, incredulously, trying to play off the absurd suggestion. It was just insane. Sure, the Captain called the Italian his bitch but-

Lovino looked over at the brunet, who had gone surprisingly quiet, wanting to see his reaction – expecting to see some raised brow or sort of skeptical look. Anything but the slightly shocked and guilty look that the other man was wearing; just as the archer's brow twitched and he almost made to throw the book at the offending owner's face, the medic ducked his head. But the younger male saw through his rouse of going back to scribbling back in his journal.

For a long and terse second, the Italian could only stare at the other. Then a red flush bloomed across his face, as indignation bloomed in his chest and took a hold of his judgment. Before he could stop himself, he was stomping over to the medic and snatching his collar, barely suppressing a growl and just punching the man's face repeatedly.

He was purely seething, "You – you think I'm just some kind of whore – his whore, of all things and people." If tears had pricked his eyes, he didn't notice. This was his friend – but what he had just accused him of was an insult if he had ever known one. Narrowing his eyes and tightening his grip, he watched his knuckles turn white in his tight grip. The medic didn't meet his eyes until after Lovino had said, "…you – you fucking bastard – just for that, you're below even him."

That created a response very quickly.

Quicker than Lovino, the medic was already red in the face with his own anger. He crushed Lovino's hand on his collar, nearly making the Italian wince under his grip – surprised by his actual show of strength – but what really made him head turn was in the tight words that the medic spat at him. "Well excuse me for being concerned when someone says they found you coming out of my Captain's quarters – his bedroom, no less, Lovino."

"Fuck you!" Lovino spat, attempting to snatch his hands back but the medic's grip tightened. He braced his booted foot to the flat surface of the desk, preparing himself to flip the other man over it if that meant getting away. It was one thing for that overbearing bastard of a Captain to abuse him. But he would not let the medic think he had the same power over him. "I'm not his whore, he couldn't pay me enough – I'd rather die."

"So ya tell yourself," the medic scoffed, and then his expression darkened as he raised a thick and scarred brow. "Or is there somethin' else – you're still breathin' right in front of me, alive and well, in new clothes no less."

"Oh, I'm lying to you, eh?" Lovino snarled, putting more force behind his foot. The other was lessening his grip and the air was getting stifling.

"Seems like it," he scoffed. "Just looks a little fishy-"

Lovino snarled, kicking at the desk to hold himself steady and then yanking on the medic's arm – he managed to catch the element of surprise but the sudden haul of heavy weight pulled on several muscles in his back and shoulder as he threw the medic to the ground. He was heaving for breath but he hid it well, "You got some nerve – I didn't sleep with your damned Captain," he sneered, putting his hands at his sides in fists. "And even if I had wanted to, there wouldn't have a thing ya could have done to stop me."

Having gotten up during the Italian's snappy reply, the medic glared at him, "Yea, I could – you're under my care, I could have ya locked up faster than yer squinty little eyes could blink-"

Did he just -? Lovino fought not to just punch the other in his jaw. It was so tempting to simply break his face in. If he tried to get out of the argument and just – just walk to clear his end, get that tomato he had wanted, he'd wanted, he'd feel better. So he settled for just saying as he made to turn around, "As if-"

A heavy hand on his shoulder yanked him back around, "Don't make me angry –"

Lovino slapped his hand away and the medic didn't put it back like the other thought he might have done. This – this wasn't fair. He was not supposed to be fighting his only friend here. "If I wanted to make you angry, I'd take my fist and break your teeth in-"

The medic's eye twitched, his body tensed, but Lovino continued on, "But with your bad hygiene, they'd probably fall out on their own."

A small gasp nearly made him turn but he decided at the last second that it wasn't worth seeing the medic cover his mouth in some form of shocked shame; instead, he just walked out. He was upset. This was upsetting. Everything was upsetting. He needed fresh air in the worst way.

For a while, Lovino just fumed on deck. His glower kept most at bay, leaving only the sheer stupid or foolhardy to approach him. But another the Italian had "accidentally" pushed someone overboard and caused the poor sailor to lose a tooth at hitting the edge of the dock – well, more than most were happy to give him space. If he had wanted to be miserable and alone, he was going to get it.

"Well lookie here," an unfortunately familiar voice cajoled down to even more unfortunate ears. The Italian did not even have time to sigh as Tomas asked his buddy to watch out for him but he let down a short rope from the crow's nest and then jumped down to land in a crouch right next to Lovino. "Aw, what's got sour puss in even worse mood?"

"Fuck off," Lovino said simply.

Tomas snickered, letting his legs kick out in front of him, "Y'know sometimes I wonder if you're actually just a girl with no chest. You're too pissy."

The archer gripped the railing, fighting not to throw himself overboard to escape the brat.

The pirate teen grinned, showing off his missing front teeth – he lost them in a fight, he had bragged, but won the fight in slitting his opponent's throat – and leaned closer into Lovino's personal space. "Ooh, did I strike a nerve? Are you really a girl – is that why the Captain goes easy on you? Or are you mad because he's gettin' bored of you?"

Lovino grit his teeth, taking a deep breath and then fighting not to scream in frustration. This was exactly why he couldn't stand teenagers.

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"The soul does not absorb negativity by accident, always by choice."

- Dodinsky

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It had been a sudden thing. An impulse, really – but nevertheless, it left Tomas stunned quiet as he frowned, a tiny part of him concerned at how the usually hissy Italian had not fought with him. They were always sparring; Tomas found them a great way to expel the anger stemming from the heavy eyes of the crew and the negligence of his supposed big brother figure. Lovino was just like him – alone. A stray taken in, whether out of pity or just sheer sadism, they both had to watch each other's backs-

But he assumed that the other didn't think so…

He went up to his post once the Italian was out of sight. He knew when it was hopeless. He knew better than to call out after someone who was walking away – his only memory of his mother was a good example of that.

In any case, he left Lovino off to his own. Scowling at his only chance of genuine entertainment leaving him, he called back to his partner to let him know that he'd be grabbing a bite to eat while he was down on the deck. He checked back to see Lovino heading in the direction of the Main Square. Tomas would take East End then, close enough to keep an eye and sound the alarm if he was caught doing something and yet far enough not to be noticed. Or at least, not enough to be noticed by Lovino in a way to make him angry.

Lovino scanned around the English city, watching the busy bodies settle into that of the nightlife style - ducking the drunken swipes of men, the cajoling calls of painted whores, and watching the street urchins pick what they could from street vendors without getting caught. As the sun began its trek down the sky, he saw families heading home and a twitch overcame the Italian's heart. He had been nostalgic all damned day.

Then, he saw it. In the distance, clear as day and just as majestic as he could imagine it – a Church.

Debating inwardly with himself on going inside, his hand subconsciously went to his rosary, wondering if he was still welcome. He had killed people. True, he had slain some invaders in Italy, but that was for his family and friends. What he had done on Arthur's ship – those men – they hadn't invaded his home. But he had invaded theirs.

He bit his lip, walking in, and immediately smelled the sweet scents of wood and candles. Some spices were being burned. Their combined scents were heaven to his senses. He swallowed thickly, walking down the aisle before choosing an available pew and sitting down heavily in it. The seat barely made a sound under his weight. He tried to make his presence small, breathing softly, as he let his mind be willed by the heavenly place to prayer.

A prayer that he awaited an answer to for a long time in that pew; hours felt like minutes to him and yet all that greeted his ears was hushed chatter of the church and little odd voices of the common folk seeking the same answer as him.

He was so into his thoughts that he didn't hear the clergyman approach him until he was seated beside him. He said something and Lovino started, before he was able to regain his calm and tried to decipher the other's words. He frowned, cocking his head slightly, as he forced himself to remember enough English to make a proper sentence. He could understand it good enough to get a gist of what was being said, but his actual speaking was shit. His pronunciation was off by a good long shot, but he hoped that he was understandable at least, "My English no good, something else?"

At this the holy man tried German, thinking the Italian for one of their newer immigrants. His youthful face went pink at the horribly foul face that Lovino made at his attempt to communicate. German was out then.

French was taken a bit easier; Lovino merely shook his head at the language, only knowing bits and pieces of words. Lovino was about to give up on waiting for the other to figure out a common language when he finally heard something he understood well, too well for his liking actually – Spanish.

Lovino listened intently, feeling relief in finally knowing what the clergyman was saying.

"What are you doing here this late?" The clergyman began. "Isn't your family worried over you being out? This is not a good time to be alone on the streets, young man, mean-spirited pirates are among us."

Lovino hid the twitch well, expression guarded, "I…I work on ship at the docks, I'm waiting to leave."

"Where is the ship going?" The holy man frowned, "You look awfully young to be working aboard a ship? What of your family?"

"Don't have one anymore," Lovino spat, "I'm sorry – and I don't know where the ship is headed. They never tell me."

"That is highly unprofessional," the other said, frown deepening. Lovino scoffed. He could care less about professionalism at this point. He was more concerned with living. "Who is the Captain?"

"An asshole," Lovino said without thinking, then flushed with shame, "Sorry, Brother."

The clergyman smiled a bit, "It is fine…I assume that this Captain does not treat you well?"

Lovino paused and then shrugged, "Sometimes."

"Sometimes?" These questions were making the Italian a bit nervous. He was thinking over his answers, he didn't usually do that. He couldn't tell the church member everything and just spill his guts, but… the idea was tempting.

Lovino went for a careful answer, "I called him an as- an insult for a reason, Brother."

"I see…" The other was quiet for a minute, "But why do you stay if he does not treat you well?"

Whatever Lovino had been about to say died. He didn't say anything for a long minute, frowning at his boots. Why did he say? He went for another simple guarded answer, "…I have no other place to go…"

"You came to the Church," the clergyman pointed out, smiling a bit when the young brunet looked back up at him. Lovino looked almost pathetic even if he was trying to hide it. Realizing it, he looked away, glaring at the ground and kicking at it with his heel.

"Would you like to stay at the Church?" The clergyman asked. "We can give you all that you need, young man, anything to help you be free."

Free? Lovino gripped his rosary. Maybe he had gone to the right place after all. "I-"

"Lovino!" The sound of the doors being shoved open, as the shout continued. That voice – it was familiar, and it was not one that Lovino had been accepting. "There ya are! Get a move on, lad, the ship's – oh you."

Lovino barely turned in time to see the medic snarl the last part.

Wait. Snarl?

"Hello again, Damien," the clergyman was rising up from his previous seat, smiling but the expression was one of thinly hidden malice. He was also speaking English, something that Lovino found odd. "It is good to see you again."

Wait. Damien?

Lovino's narrowed eyes met the medic's own gray ones. The other pirate swallowed thickly, standing straighter as he marched into the closer, right to Lovino's pew – but his focus was not on Lovino. It was on the clergyman. He jabbed a finger at the taller's chest. "Why don't you go fuck your precious Sister, Robert?"

The holy man's eye twitched at the utter vulgarity, which only worsened as the medic continued. "Or better yet, why don't you go to Hell and stay there."

Lovino watched the pair closely, suspicion and confusion rising alike. The clergyman looked like he wanted to say something just as awful back but he held back his tongue. "I wish you would refrain from saying such things in our Father's home."

"I don't have a father," the medic spat.

"You used to."

At that, the pair held a staring contest. Unsaid insults seemed to manifest behind the medic's – Damien's? – eyes, while the holy man kept his face so passive and cold that he might as well have cursed the medical pirate's existence. The tension in the air was so thick it was nearly choking the Italian currently being ignored in his pew. He didn't think that he could try to slip out and not have both of those hard gazes on him in seconds.

So he sat and waited it out.

The medic was the first to speak. "I never had a father," he glared as the clergyman opened his mouth. "And a fake substitute did nothing for me. Don't even try it."

And so the staring contest continued.

The medic kept his gaze on the holy man, as he suddenly spoke in Italian, accent slipped and words tense. "Lovino. Let's go – the ship is leaving soon."

Lovino didn't like how the medic had better Italian when he was clearly angry. It didn't look like a good sign.

Then the clergyman was raising a brow, frowning as Lovino got up slowly – the Italian flinched as that harsh gaze was on him, as if he had done wrong by standing. "You speak Italian now, Damien…how interesting." He narrowed his eyes at the medic. "What were you doing by Italy long enough to learn another language?"

"Don't call me that, that is not my name," the medic hissed. "And what I do know is none of your damned business." He turned his attention to Lovino, "Lovino, get up, let's go!"

"Oh? Is that your new alias then?" The taller crossed his arms over his chest, "I rather liked the time when you called yourself Peter, now that I think about it. You did a good job of cleaning yourself up after-"

Wait. Peter?

Before Lovino could even react, the medic had snatched the clergyman's collar and was jerking him down to his eye level. He practically spat in the man's face, "I said – shut the Hell up. Lovino. Let's go."

Lovino hurriedly bowed his head to the still captured clergyman, fear rising in him and regret welling up as he realized that he didn't even have a weapon on him in case a fight broke out. Great.

When the medic let go of the holy man, the taller simply smiled as if nothing was wrong. He waved good bye to Lovino as if all was well. "Well then, take care, Lovino." A pointed look to the medic and a slight smirk graced his features. "You too, Damien, I wish you well."

"…Why did I let you live?" The medic scoffed, making his way to turn around and leave when the clergyman spoke up after they were some distance away from each other.

"I used to ask that very same question – but then I realized that our Father knew all the answers and would you tell me in good time. I needn't worry – and neither should you."

The medic was silent for a moment, and then his hand brushed against the handle of the Church door. For the first time, Lovino realized that the three were the only ones in the building. It was eerie…how quiet this Church was compared to the one back home in Italy that Lovino remembered.

"I hope your God bites you in the ass and then lets you burn in your precious church," the medic snarled softly.

The clergyman didn't even blink in response, "I hope you may find God once again."

The medic's hand tightened on the doorknob and Lovino was inwardly glad that the other hadn't broken it yet. "I don't need God. Nor do I need you."

With that, he slammed the door and the remaining two in the Church heard him stomp down the stairs and walk away from the entrance.

The clergyman sighed once more, turning to the young Italian, "I'm sorry that you had to see that." He smiled gently and the archer finally saw the other's true age in his gray eyes. Just like the medic. Wait.

"You are free to follow him to your ship, if you wish," the taller said, gesturing to the door. His earlier suggestion of staying within the Church obviously abandoned. "I wish you well in my prayers on your journey."

Lovino nodded, watching the holy man exit through a door by the altar. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned to leave. He had a ship to board.

Although when he finally made it there, the archer wasn't shocked to find the medic's door locked. He didn't bother to knock on it either, simply sighing and going to the front deck to watch the night as the crew got ready to leave. Tomas snuck a wave down at him and Lovino made a halfhearted attempt to flip him off. The boy laughed, going back to work after his partner snapped at him to remain focused.

Lovino watched everything and everyone move around him, a part of it and yet not, gaze going distant as he became lost in his thoughts.

"I don't need God, eh?" Lovino said to himself, twirling the rosary on his fingers, it had just seemed an awfully strange thing for him to think about. He had been raised with a religious belief, he found comfort in it, he liked it – but to think that the medic thought he didn't need it, to know he obviously didn't want it – he just couldn't shake the idea from his mind without getting the chills.

That night, Lovino was forced to steal a bunk from one of the night watchmen to sleep, since the medic had yet to unlock his door. But it was alright. He just needed time to cool down and let his mood pass over. Lovino had seen the medic do this for him dozens of times. He could wait this out for a few nights.

But still, those words…the medic – Thomas – had sounded so cold when he spoke to the kind clergymen. He had seemed even angrier than when the Spaniard pissed him off. But the clergyman had barely batted an eye, as if he was used to it – he knew the medic's name. Those two obviously had some type of history – and not a good one, at least, not anymore.

That night when the ship left port, Lovino found himself tossing and turning in his sleep, only to awake in cold sweat and find his hands with a death grip on his rosary. He opened them, looking at its imprint in his palm, thinking of how he had nearly died to have it back. It was more than just a religious symbol to him. It was his last thread to home – a path that only he could follow to go back to his little brother.

A lone thumb rubbing fondly over its beads, the Italian sighed to himself. He wouldn't be going back to sleep now, he already knew it so he slipped out of the bunk and tip toed down the hall. Most of the ship was asleep.

Well he thought that they had been asleep until he saw the Captain out on deck, looking out at the sky blackened sea.

"What are do you doing up, puta?" The Spaniard said as the shorter came to stand beside him. "Aren't you supposed to cheering up the medic or bitching about his Italian right about now? He's still up, you know."

Antonio turned to look at him and Lovino noticed there was a small scratch right below his eye. It was barely visible beneath the other's loose hair, mostly hidden, but Lovino had seen it. It had looked fresh. It was recent.

" –ino. Lovino?"

Said Italian broke his hard staring at the scar, looking the Spaniard in his eyes. The older didn't even flinch. "What? You're sayin' my name now, what made you change your mind?"

Antonio was quiet, and then he scoffed, looking back to the sea, "Don't you wish you knew…"

Lovino scoffed back.

There was a lot that he wished he knew right now.

A/N: Angst filler chapter is kinda not filler but still filler idk – either way, it's really fucking long.

This update is brought to you in part by Yankeedoodledork, she pretty much threatened me during the entire time whenever I said I was gonna update this chapter. Plus this is my twisted way of saying happy (belated) birthday to the little shit. Woot woot.

I had rewritten it like three times before but I love this one. It may kinda seem filler but there's stuff in it.

And yea…