The Heart of the Ocean (DNB)

The Unsinkable

Preface: Techno's real name will not be used, I will be using the name 'Dee' as his 'real' name in the story. Dream's real name will also not be used, just Dream.

'DeWitt Craft:' means Techno POV, 'Dawson:' means Dream POV

TW/CW: mentions of tobacco and alcohol consumption, minor descriptions of blood.

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DeWitt Craft:

⠀⠀⠀Techno Blade DeWitt Bukater has something in common with the large boat in front of him, he is only for show. There is no possible way that a boat could be 'unsinkable'. He may not be able to go to college anymore, but he's educated enough to not believe such propaganda. His fiancé, George, who was older and graduated from university, though, did believe it and had not stopped reminding him and his company for the whole ride to Southampton from London.

⠀⠀⠀Techno gazed up at the large boat and felt dread pool in his stomach. This would be his equivalent of a slave ship, forcibly taken from his home to live in a country he had never been to before with people he'd rather not associate with. The corset that was snaked around his waist did not help his ever-growing stomach ache.

⠀⠀⠀"God and all of his will could not sink this ship!" George cried as he stepped out of the motor car.

⠀⠀⠀Techno rolled his eyes and put his hat back on his head. Phil, Wilbur and Tommy followed George out of the car. Another car pulled up beside them, out stepped Mr. and Mrs. Warren Bukater, Techno's mother and stepfather, respectively. Conversation between his vile parents and his almost as vile fiancé flowed around them mixed with the hustle and bustle of the Southampton harbour. Techno looked at his heeled shoes with a solemn look.

⠀⠀⠀"You alright, mate?" Phil, his older brother asked, setting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing in a comforting way.

⠀⠀⠀Techno thought about it. Of course, he would rather spend the rest of his life anywhere in England than move to New York of all places. The thought of living a domestic life in the upper class of New York, becoming just another housewife to flaunt around, leading a loveless life, raising adopted children being the only thing that would light up his life made him feel twice as sick to his stomach. He had thought about running away almost every second of every month leading up to this morning since he had met George, but he couldn't, especially not when he watched Phil's eyes light up as he read and reread and memorized the letters sent by his love from California, Kristin, especially not when he saw Wilbur's fountain pen scrawl neat words across many pieces of music at the thought of one day performing on a stage in front of thousands of adoring fans, and especially not at the thought of seeing Tommy finally and properly run around a neighbourhood, far away from the disgusting cobblestone streets of London, so he decided to throw it all away for them. The only way his parents would ever even think about giving them their inheritance is if one of them married a rich, smart and generous suitor. Techno had the honour of filling that role.

⠀⠀⠀"Could be better," he decided to say, "Are you excited to see Kristin?"

⠀⠀⠀Kristin had recently written that she was travelling across America to meet them and to wear in the new Bukater House until they arrived.

⠀⠀⠀"Of course he is! I can already imagine them smothering each other as soon as they even catch a glimpse of each other." Wilbur piped up, handing a piece of luggage to Techno.

⠀⠀⠀"How in the world do you imagine that, you creep?" Techno raised an eyebrow.

⠀⠀⠀"Oh, how you've been lucky enough to miss his late-night monologues about his 'undying love for his beloved Kristin'." Wilbur placed the back of his hand on his forehead and drew the last part dramatically.