Neither Lady nor Pirate (Complete)

Chapter Thirty

There is some Spanish in the chapter, because I am a Spanish major and couldn't wait to put some more in. It doesn't entirely matter what is said, but if you're dying to know, I'll put the translation at the bottom (putting it in the story made it a bit messy and I couldn't make leaving it in work).

Hope your weekend's going well!

XOXO

sophie9630

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THIRTY

Finn rose extra early the next morning for no particular reason. He had a big day planned, but until Slim woke to go with him there was no need for Finn to be awake.

His first mate had nearly finished an entire bottle of rum by himself during the previous evening's festivities. The only thing that prevented him from actually doing so was that he'd passed out stone cold after vomiting over the side of the ship for ten minutes.

Someone had had the decency to haul him to his hammock, where he would likely rise with a terrible hangover that would only delay Finn's plans further.

The whole scenario should have angered Finn—he never liked tardiness, especially on his end. Arriving early was the equivalent to showing up on time to Finn, something that Port had taught him from a young age.

But at the present moment, and since he'd departed from Abbie's room, his mind was otherwise preoccupied. And not with the usual cloud of dreariness that had tormented him frequently in the last few weeks.

Everything that Abbie said stuck in his mind with such sharpness that even his cutlass could not do comparable damage. And rather than resent her words, or feel any sort of anger or bitterness, the only thing that Finn could do was acknowledge the truth.

She was right.

His musings brought him to remember the day his family had received word of his father's disappearance. His mother had fallen to the floor a weeping mess, pain and sorrow emitting from her in horrible sobs.

He remembered Shannon, sweet innocent Shannon, trying unsuccessfully to prompt her from the ground. But all Marianne had done was pull her daughter into an embrace so tight that Shannon was driven to her knees.

And it was that sight—his mother shaking violently from her bitter sobs and Shannon crying in her arms—that had prompted Finn to promise himself that he would always be their rock. He would be their strength and their save haven, and never again would anything cause them any pain if he had a say about it.

He swore to himself, and silently to his sister and mother, that if it meant he had had to push past his own grief, if it meant letting go of his sorrow, he would do it. For them he would do it.

That had been the day that Finn had grown weary of emotions and the walls had come up. He never realized it until Abbie had begun breaking through just how thick and tall they had grown around his heart.

When Port died, every fiber of Finn's being told him to stay strong. He had to push on, fight against the urge to feel pain. So when he started to feel pain anyway, nothing in Finn knew how to respond.

He then decided to cave in on himself, to let only his walls stand to protect him. His heart couldn't suffer if he couldn't feel the ache of every beat.

And somehow Abbie had pieced it all together before Finn could even recognize what was happening. She had figured him out, and for the first time Finn felt no fear at the sentiment.