Dark Waters Rising

Tide

The sun had nearly set by the time Wesley and Valentine wandered back into their camp. A few embers from the fire were still holding onto their glow, but just barely. After breathing life back into them, Wesley cooked up a few slabs of the briny beef and offered one to Valentine. They ate together in relative silence, and once their hunger was sated, Wesley found himself laying on the beach next to the pirate and staring up at the stars. 

"Are you afraid to die?" Wesley asked, his eyes sweeping over the constellations that would often guide his ship home from a long journey. 

There was no response at first, but after a minute of introspection, Valentine breathed out his answer. "No."

Wesley absorbed the word in the lingering silence. It was curious to him. The idea of death left a bad taste in his mouth, but Valentine seemed so calm and collected in the face of it. Some part of him admired how well the pirate was handling the prospect.

"Do you have any regrets?" he asked out of dull curiosity.

Valentine turned his head to look at Wesley, whose skin practically glowed in the pale light of the moon. The merchant continued to survey the sky with cerulean eyes that seemed much darker  than usual in the dim light.

"I regret not being a better man for you," the pirate said softly. "One that you could've been proud of."

Wesley noticed how he had not made mention of any of the people he had killed or hurt or stolen from, but he found he was not at all surprised by the answer. Still, he kept his gaze skyward as the other man memorized every sloping edge and plane of his face.

"I don't regret raiding your ship though," he continued. "If I hadn't I may have never met you."

Despite the mention of their less than ideal beginnings, Wesley's heart fluttered. He couldn't help it when he said stuff like that. 

Maybe Valentine had been singing to him while he slept, because there had to be some kind of explanation for why his heart ached so much in the pirate's presence. 

He knew it wasn't true though. His thoughts were his own, as were his feelings. That much was obvious to him.

"Do you ever run out of romantic things to say?" Wesley huffed, finally turning his head to glare halfheartedly at the pirate.

Valentine smirked lightly, "No. Not really."

Wesley huffed again and returned his gaze to the stars. 

"What about you?" Valentine asked after a moment. "Any regrets?"

Wesley was almost quick to retort that he regretted meeting Valentine, but as the words perched on his tongue he realized they weren't necessarily true. He regretted how they met, but not that they met. Instead his lips shaped around a different set of words.

"I regret not spending more time with my sister when I had the chance."

All was silent for a moment, his words lingering over them like a thin veil of fog they were reluctant to breathe in. When it settled a bit, Valentine asked, "What happened to her?"

"She was sick," Wesley sighed. "There was nothing we could've done to help her. She passed when I was on my first job as a merchant. My first trip across the sea."

"I'm sorry," Valentine said. He couldn't imagine what it would've been like to lose his own sister. In a way, he had lost Cordelia when he had been banished, but he at least had the comfort of knowing she was alive. Somewhere. Wesley didn't have that. "What was her name?"

"Waverly," he breathed. A small smile twitched on his lips as a fond memory played behind his eyes. Valentine could tell Wesley was no longer seeing the stars as he said, "She always insisted that she would sail the seas with me once I was a captain."