They'd been pretty at first- it always seemed that way. There had still been hope then. Back then, it had still been possible that sails would appear over the horizon and sweep them away. He'd still been looking for a crow's nest, sure that this was only temporary, that since the storm that had swept them overboard had died down, it was only a matter of time.
There was still hope for them, back then.
In the weeks that had followed, it had been hard to keep from going mad. On a rock outcropping, too far above the sea. No vegetation, no animals, no movement as far as the eye could see. It wasn't the same one, it couldn't be, they weren't even in the same ocean.
But his stomach hurt the same, his eyes swam the same. The smothering fear was the same. The years were blending together- maybe he'd never gotten off in the first place. Maybe it had all been a dream.
But he'd had food then. Maybe only a little, but it had been something.
Of course, if they had managed to save anything to eat, none of it would have gone to him. No, every bit would have been saved desperately for the wasting body that lay limp against his arm. It would have been his turn to be the hero. But now, just like always, he had nothing to give her. He couldn't save her.
She was awake now, for the first time in... days? hours? He wasn't sure. But her fingertips were moving against his arm, shoulders trembling. Maybe she wanted to cry, but there was nothing left.
"We're going to be okay." His voice was hoarse, echoing over a silent ocean.
"They'll come," she whispered, head easing into his lap.
"Yeah." He stroked a palm over her cheek- normally something that would have gotten him slapped or glared at, but now she only closed her eyes and laid her hand on his knee.
There was no doubt in his heart that they would come, they would brave any danger in the world to come for them. If a single of their comrades still lived, they would come to save them. The thought that all of them had died in the storm was laughable- they'd survived so much, how could some lightning and rain defeat them?
But no one had come.
It had been years, but he was no different now. He'd been so sure that he'd grown, that he could survive anything now, that he was a man now. He was a man, not a child, not the baby he had been.
But he didn't want to die. He was so hungry, so weak, so tired- his chest hurt, he was scared, he ididn't want to die like this/i-
The thoughts were coming more and more often now; he icould/i eat. He could live, for a long time, with food. He had at least a hundred pounds of usable meat curled trustingly against his side, too weak to fight back. When they came, if they came, it would be so easy to say that she hadn't washed up with him, he hadn't seen her, that she was gone. He'd given her so much, didn't she owe him something? He'd saved her life without thanks hundreds of times, she could give him just this once and his conscience should be clear. It would be useless for them both to die when one of them could live.
It was killing him, just as surely and slowly as he starved. What kind of man did it make him, to stare at her so hungrily while she lay helpless in his arms? She trusted him to take care of her, and he had no right to destroy her trust- but didn't he have a right to live too!
An old man had given a limb to save a useless boy who was willing to stab him in the back for a crust of bread. How useless a sacrifice that had been, if he couldn't bring himself to do the same to protect the woman he loved.
She whimpered quietly as he touched her hair, her face, and the echoes of her stomach growling sent pangs of guilt through his chest. She was a woman, the most important and precious woman in his life, and it was his duty to take care of her. To be her knight in shining armor, no matter how much he had to sacrifice.
He would give anything for her. He had to. He would be the man she needed, the man she deserved.
She barely reacted when his lips brushed her cheek, but uttered a little whine of complaint when he eased her off his lap and onto the cold rock face. She curled up in a tiny ball, facing away from him, and a weak smile twitched over his cracked lips. It was better if she couldn't see.
It took more strength than he liked to shatter the boulder, and his arms screamed in agony as he lifted even the smallest chunk of rock. He paused, waiting to see if the sudden sound caught her attention, then sat back down carefully a few feet from her. He could do this. He iwould/i do this. He would provide for her, no matter what it took.
He brought the jagged rock high above his head, biting his lip hard and bracing himself.
"Stop it."
Her voice was weak, but still held enough command to freeze him in place. He lowered the rock slowly, staring at her crumpled form in disbelief.
"But I-"
"No. Don't be an idiot." She lifted herself up bit by bit, turning to fix him with a icy stare. Her eyes were dry and bloodshot, but flashed with irrational anger. "I know what you're doing, and you're going to stop it right now if you know what's good for you."
"I'm trying to keep us alive." He was pleading- pleading, to give up everything for her!- and yet she was boiling with anger.
"No, you're trying to keep ime/i alive. You're so- you're such a stupid man!" He cowered if only by instinct when her temper flared, dropping the shattered rock and bowing his head. "If I want you to make stupid decisions on my behalf, I'll make them for you! Is that understood!"
"Yes, ma'am."
She sighed, and her eyes were so tired, so sad, that he almost reached out to cradle her close- almost, but was scared of her sudden anger. "Don't do this for me. I can't take it."
"I can't let you die." It was really as simple as that, but she shook her head, dragging her wasted body over the rock to push close to his side. Comforting.
"I'm not letting you die for me. We're both going to get out of here alive." She grasped his arm with more strength than he thought she had left. "Together, do you understand?"
"But..." He wanted to object, wanted to tell her that it would never happen, that the only way to survive was for one of them to give up. But she leaned on his shoulder, and he couldn't say a word.
"Make the impossible happen for me," she demanded.
"Okay," he said, and that was all. He couldn't deny her this, even if it doomed them both.
Maybe if he hadn't made her that promise, the sails wouldn't have appeared over the horizon a few days later, black shadows of salvation swooping down to take them away. Maybe they would have stayed there until they wasted away, until someone snapped. But after he nodded his head and acquiesced to her wishes, however irrational they might have seemed, it was only a matter of time.
And while everyone ran around getting them food and water and blankets, while they sat propped against the mast, she smiled at him and mouthed "I told you so." And he loved her more than he ever had before, and that was really saying something.