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Washburr AU: Part Two

He thought he was in heaven at first, but not because the place he was in was so beautiful and elegant that it could never exist on Earth, but because George Washington was sure that he had died and seen his life flash before his eyes. It was almost terrifying to Captain George that he was now lying in a cot, a thin blue blanket draped over him, and in some sort of leather tent. His leg stung and felt sore. Upon looking at it under the blanket he confirmed that he injured it when the boat sunk.

The boat. Washington looked around. My crew, where the hell is my crew? Where's the sea? Where am I?! He slowly got out of the cot, testing how well he could walk on the bandaged up, twisted ankle. Pain shot up his leg and he had to bite his hand to prevent himself from crying out. George hated showing weakness and he hated looking like a coward. So he dragged his twisted leg behind him, trying to get to the entry way of the tent.

But somebody came in before he could get any further.

Washington had seen a lot of things, but definitely not this. His grandfather had told many stories, but definitely not of this. Not of a creature like this.

They looked mostly human. Two arms, two legs, a head, a torso, but their skin was different. There were hints of scales on their sides and on their wrists. Gills could clearly be seen on their neck and small dorsal fins stuck out on their arms and legs. They wore a sort of leather skirt, held up with a tied brown string. When the creature smiled, George could see canines.

It didn't speak, it used sign language. That was what stuck out the most to George. The creature said hello and George carefully signed hello back. He didn't know very much sign language, just the alphabet and a few general phrases. His grandfather used to teach him sign language, but when he lost a couple fingers in a bet their lessons slowly dwindled away.

"Can you speak?" It signed to him. George didn't say a word. He didn't feel safe around this thing, and, frankly, he didn't want to feel comfortable in this situation anyway. After a moment of silence the creature decided George couldn't speak. "How does your leg feel?" It asked.

Captain Washington straightened his posture and signed, "Lousy." That was the only feeling he could remember because it looked funny when you did it. Your thumb, second, and third finger out, the others down, and then flick your thumb against your nose. The creature carefully stepped closer and examined the leg.

"Sit," It commanded, gesturing to the bed. Washington did immediately, but he was sure it wasn't from conscious thought. It carefully brought George's leg up onto the bed, resting it on a small pillow. Then it poked and prodded at Washington's ankle until George finally let a noise of discomfort slip out. The creature nodded and stood up. "I will go find our leader. He will be happy to see you awake." It signed before waving goodbye and leaving the tent without another word.

Washington got up again. He didn't want to sit or lie down, he just wanted to get back to his crew to see if they were alive and okay. But with his ankle busted like this there was no way he could get around by himself. God, I hope they're okay. He stood up again, making sure not to put pressure on the bad ankle. Once again, Captain George shuffled to the front of the tent and hesitantly poked his head out.

There was a long dirt pathway leading to an even longer, dirtier looking pathway. There were jungle trees surrounding the area and a dark bluish black sky above him. There was a mist in the air. George took a deep breath and stepped out of the tent. He quickly shuffled towards the road, his ankle dragging behind him.

Nothing looked familiar to him. What island was this? There were torches on the sides of the road, that being the only source of light. George followed the road until he approaced a little bridge above a clear stream. The stream was so deep he couldn't see the bottom of it.

Another surge of pain went up his ankle, like fire slowly trailing through a forest. He held the side of the bridge and bit his hand again. It just kept getting worse every single time. Where am I going? He thought to himself. George got off the bridge, almost tripping over himself. My ankle gets worse with every step I take.

Up ahead, Washington saw a large body of water against a rock wall. A bright blue waterfall poured into the lake. If he didn't know any better he would say that the rock wall never ended, just getting higher and higher until you couldn't see it anymore. Why can I not tell the different between the wall and the sky? He dragged himself to the lake and collapsed on the ground by it. He splashed some water in his face, taking a few deep breaths. Why do I feel like this? Where is my god damn crew? What the hell is in the water?

Captain George stopped and suddenly stared at the waterfall with wide eyes. What's in the water? A sort of dark form swam through the waterfall and into the pool, disappearing as it got deeper in the water. George sat up and stared at the water, trying to see if he could find it- whatever it was- again.

Slowly, the form rose towards the top of the water and closer to the shore. George backed up in the grass, once again wincing at the pain in his ankle. He wanted to whimper and wince, but tried to hold it down. The form came up in the water, revealing dark piercing eyes against chestnut skin. Shiny lilac scales and fins paired with sharp white teeth.

Captain George and Aaron finally met each other's eyes. Aaron signed, "What is your name?" It took George a few seconds before he finally signed his name back. Aaron grinned a little, his teeth shining in the moonlight. "Aaron. It's good to finally meet you, sailor."