Bones in the Ocean by bunflower

Chapter 7

"Turn right," Eret suddenly says, one morning as the crew has gathered for breakfast. "Point us north."

Technoblade blinks.

"Heh?"

"North, Technoblade."

"Yeah, I-I heard you, I'm just..." he gestures with one hand at Niki, who looks just as confused. "We're kinda supposed to be makin' port in a few days, the crew's gettin' restless and we're gonna need more supplies soon."

Eret lifts a brow at him. Their blank gaze seems to latch onto his own, as if staring right through him and into his very soul. They take his hands in their own, and he suppresses a shiver as he's forced to stare into their gaze. Their expression is solemn, their brows furrowed as they stare up in his direction, and Technoblade is struck by the oddest feeling. It's something he's felt before in Eret's presence, a strange, perplexing difference between them. It's not a feeling he can name, but all he knows is that Eret is mystifying in a way that most humans ought not to be-and that they always seem to know far more than they let on.

"Trust me, Technoblade," they murmur.

And so, against his better judgment, he nods.

Phil makes a soft noise of complaint at his right, and he fixes his first mate with a stern look. Phil has a little pout on his lips-likely at the thought of leaving behind the siren he's so smitten with. But when their eyes meet, the man holds up his hands placatingly, his lips twitching into a grin, and there's no disguising the intrigue in his eyes as he glances back and forth between the two of them. There's a knowing gleam amidst the blue despite his protests, and now Technoblade is realizing that Phil, too, must know more than he cares to share.

He was the one to let Eret aboard, after all.

"Alright," he agrees aloud, and there's a murmuring amidst the crew that have gathered. "North it is." He heard Tommy squawk in protest-catches the dull thud as Ranboo's elbow promptly collides with his friend's ribs-but Tommy isn't the only one who looks displeased. Eret is a newcomer, a bystander-not technically a part of the crew by any agreement, merely along for their travels. It's only fair that they're wary of their course being controlled by someone who seems to merely be along for the ride. The crew is disgruntled by this abrupt change in plans, having been looking forward to respite at shore, and, frankly, Technoblade is as well.

This is a leap of faith. He has no reason to trust Eret, and yet he does, and it's terrifying and comforting all at once.

He trusts them. And he doesn't trust easily.

Eret smiles at his affirmation, and nods, seeming to understand his reluctance.

"We'll speak soon enough, I promise," they assure him, their voice a low whisper, quiet enough that the rest of the crew can't hear what they're saying. Technoblade nods, as small of a gesture as he can manage. And then they release his hands and settle quietly back at their spot on the stairs, pick up their meal, and go back to eating as if nothing has occurred.

The crew just watches, perplexed.

How very odd, indeed.

-

The next night he finds Phil alone at the stern of the ship, occupying Technoblade's usual spot at the railing.

The man doesn't even seem to notice his arrival, or he simply doesn't care. His gaze is fixed on the dark horizon-on the glittering of stars across the glassy surface of the sea, which, for once, is calm. Phil's posture is rigid, his shoulders straight and his teeth clenched, his jaw working fiercely. There's a storm brewing beneath the surface-one that casts a glassy, grey sheen over the usual blue of his eyes and shrouds his face in shadow. His brows are knit with some inscrutable emotion, something dark and hollow and foreign against his friend's usual cheer.