Never Saw You Coming (Spot Conlon x Reader)

Shipwrecked

Your head throbbed in time with the distant roaring you heard. What it was, you didn't know. All you knew was that you ached- your head, your arms, your torso, your legs, all of you. Opening your eyes slowly, the lids crusty from a mix of sand and rheum, you saw... a beach? Sitting up slowly, every muscle screaming in protest, you saw that the roaring was waves crashing, the surf slowly but steadily reaching up to where you had been laying on the soft, sparkling sand. Your sharp E/C eyes took in your surroundings; the deep greens of the jungle cutting off sharply when they reached the white, nearly blinding sand that trailed down to the beautiful peacock blue of the curving lagoon you found yourself washed up from. In the center of the island- instinctively you could tell it was an island; it had that feel to it- stood an enormous mountain, the crowning jewel in the tiara. You stood up a little unsteadily, your bare feet taking you down to the curling foam where the water met the sand. The water was cool and refreshing, and you splashed some on your face to try and wake yourself up a little.

You shivered when you remembered the events of the night before, the ship going down with a gaping hole in her belly, gouged by a rock. You had raced up from belowdecks and fought to get into a lifeboat- there would be no help for a stowaway in a time like this, even if you were young, barely turned 13.

So much for women and children first. You thought bitterly as you rinsed the sand off of your arms and face. Then again, the crew didn't know you were either.

Stowing away on the ship seemed a good idea at the time; to get away from the child protection agencies that had plagued you since the death of your parents. From the hole that had been in your heart ever since. Dressing as a boy, with your hair in a cap, had seemed an even better idea; everyone knew that a ship was 'no place for a girl'. You knew how superstitious sailors were; your father had been one, a merchant who loved the sea. If you had been caught, dressed as a girl, you likely would've been thrown overboard. Being caught dressed as a boy wouldn't've been much better, but at least you may have been able to convince the crew to allow you a place on the ship.

Then again, none of that mattered now. You looked behind you- yes, there was the empty barrel that you had clung to through the night, washed ashore, same as you.

There could be worse places to be shipwrecked. You thought to herself as you looked around the gorgeous island. And maybe it wouldn't be too bad. After all, it already looked better than the streets, which was your only plan for after arriving at your destination-wherever the ship had docked next.

With that thought in mind, you decided to go in search of water, the soreness of your throat nearly driving you insane. You were relatively sure that you had swallowed seawater at some point during the night, and you knew the dangers of that. With one final backwards glance at the sparkling teal ocean, you forged resolutely into the jungle. There had to be a freshwater source somewhere on an island this dense in vegetation.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours of walking, you stumbled out of the thicket of bushes you had been hacking her way through onto a stream. A shallow, clear, fresh, stream that at the moment looked to be the most wonderful thing you had seen in your life. Throwing caution to the wind you lay on your stomach, scooping handfuls into your mouth. The water tasted as good as it looked, incredibly different from the metallic, warmish stuff you got in the city. You lay on the ground for a few more minutes, then began to get up. But you stopped abruptly when you felt something sharp pricking the back of your neck.

"Get up. Slowly." A voice commanded. A boy's voice, from the sound of it not much older than your own. You obeyed; what else could you do, with a knife to your neck? The boy tied a blindfold around your eyes, and for a moment you froze, petrified that he would knock off your cap and expose your secret. It was honestly a miracle you hadn't been found out before this, but people saw what they expected to see; and when they saw the trousers and loose linen shirt they expected to see a boy inside. Especially when you pulled out your knife, which- you mentally checked for the weight of the knife in your pocket- was, by some miracle, still there. With enough dirt smudged on your face, nobody ever looked twice. But the cap stayed on, and the boy, knife still at her neck, prodded you forward with a push. You marched on, the boy directing you, until after about a 15 minute walk you stopped. Or rather, the boy stopped and pulled you to a halt as well.