Drift groaned as he opened his eyes to see the face of the ship’s doctor, Benny.

“You’re lucky it didn’t do more damage,” Benny sniffed disapprovingly as he pushed his gold rimmed spectacles up from where they had been slipping down his pinched nose. Benny always fancied himself a ‘learned gentleman’, parading about in fine clothes and checking his engraved pocket watch.

“Yeah, I feel real fortunate,” Drift grunted, sitting up in the bed and noting the other occupants of the room. Fletch was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed and his lips stained black from chewing tobacco.

Cove was there too, although he was asleep, hugging his knees tightly up to his chest and slumped in a ratty old armchair. He looked softer in sleep Drift noticed, his mouth was slack and a small trail of drool glistened down his chin. Thick, dark eyelashes fanned across his pale cheeks and his thin fingers twitched across bony knees.

“I had to sedate him eventually,” Benny shrugged, noticing where Drift was looking.

“Yeah,” Drift snorted softly, “he elicits that reaction in people.”

“What was he doing up on the deck?” Fletch asked, coming over to crawl onto the bed with Drift and letting out a luxuriating sigh. The surgery had one of the only two actual beds on the ship, the other being in the captain’s quarters.

“Think he was trying to get off the ship,” Drift shook his head. “Idiot got himself thrown overboard.”

“You could have let him drop?” Fletch asked, squinting sideways at his friend.

“And had to pay Shin back what he bought him for?” Drift laughed miserably. “No thanks.”

“He needs to be disciplined,” Benny sniffed, kicking the armchair and causing Cove to murmur and frown in his medically aided sleep.

“He’s learned his lesson,” Drift muttered. “Never seen anyone look more petrified.” He nodded at Benny, “did you check him too?”

“Of course,” Benny replied sharply as if the question had been an affront on his professional abilities as a ship’s medic. “The boy is pretty bruised up but nothing’s broken.”

“Hopefully his spirit,” Fletch laughed, spitting out his tobacco so flecks of it landed across Cove’s cheekbones like a smattering of black freckles. The younger boy’s nose twitched a few times before he cracked open his eyes.

“Oh,” Cove looked petulantly over at Drift, eyeing his bare torso and the bandaged wound. “You survived then?”

“You little shit –“ Fletch began angrily, rising to his feet and rolling up his sleeves before Drift held up a hand to stop him.

“The toilets,” Drift stated neutrally.

“Huh?” Cove cocked his head and looked confused.

“That was my duty today, now it’s yours for the week – cleaning out the toilets for the whole ship.” Drift smirked as a flash of horrified understanding passed across Cove’s face. “Think you can manage that your highness?”

Fletch let out a peal of delighted laughter before slumping back down next to Drift and nudging his shoulder appreciatively. “Yeah,” Fletch grinned, “and you know they’re always a real state after a storm, what with the ship bouncing around and all the skysick bellies.”

“I hate you,” Cove spat viciously, a high flush mottling his cheeks in rosy patches on alabaster.

“Am I meant to care?” Drift sighed, leaning back against the headboard and motioning for Benny to bring him some water. “You better run along, Fletch’ll show you where to start and where the mop is.”

“I’m not doing it,” Cove snarled, jumping up and walking towards the door.

“That’s your choice,” Drift shrugged. “But the punishment for shirking duties is thirty lashes.”

Cove’s fingers hovered and twitched above the door handle as Drift observed the back of his head, silver hair in spiked tufts of a fitful sleep. The younger boy’s shoulders were shaking in silent anger as he threw the door open and disappeared into the corridor.

“Make sure he gets a half decent mop,” Drift sighed, nudging Fletch to go follow him. “Otherwise he’ll never finish.”

“Aye aye,” Fletch winked cheerfully, slapping Benny’s ass on the way out and eliciting an indignant squawk from the doctor.

“That’s another one that needs disciplining,” Benny snapped, walking over to collect bloodied towels from the side of the bed.

“Why? You offering Doc?” Drift smirked as Benny spluttered and stormed off to the wash room.

That evening, Drift and his bunkmates were playing cards in the Salt Room when the door creaked open and a nauseating stench permeated the space.

“Dear god what the hell is that?” Robbo retched as he jumped up and pointed at the miniature swamp monster that had just entered the room.

“Ho-ly shit,” Fletch whistled as Drift realised that underneath the layers of putrefaction and grime was a scowling Cove.

“You know you didn’t actually have to climb into a toilet right?” Fletch guffawed as Cove let out an angry whine, clearly afraid to open his mouth for fear of what might drip in there.

“I’ve literally never seen someone more incompetent,” Hanzo shook his head.

“You’re going to get sick,” Drift snapped, standing up. “Why the fuck haven’t you washed off?”

He watched as Cove glared at him, pink lips quivering. Drift sighed and scratched his head. “Come on, I’ll show you where the showers are, the water tank will be full from the storm last night.”

“He better clean up those shitty footprints as well!” Fletch yelled after them as Drift walked out into the corridor and motioned for Cove to follow him.

“You have to be more careful,” Drift chastised, “disease can spread quickly on a small ship like this in close quarters.”

Cove let out an angry exhale of breath through flared nostrils and Drift decided he liked the younger boy better like this, when he couldn’t retort back or complain.

“Okay, this is the wash room,” Drift motioned to the thin galley with a system of pulleys and pipes across the ceiling. “The water’s pumped through the engine room as a coolant and then cycled back here, so it’ll be warm.”

Drift briefly demonstrated how to turn the shower on and where the fresh towels were before Cove gestured emphatically at him.

“What?” Drift frowned. Cove stuck his head under the stream of water, frantically wiping the muck away from his mouth and eyes before drawing back out.

“I said, are you just going to fucking stand there and watch me bathe?” Cove snapped.

“Jesus Christ,” Drift rolled his eyes, walking backwards and throwing up his hands. “We normally shower in groups of about ten so you’re going to have to get over your pure sensibilities your highness.”

“Just get out,” Cove huffed, pulling his soiled sweater up over his head and throwing it on the ground in a muddy puddle. Drift watched for a moment more as the water sluiced down in rivulets, cleaning the dirt away from Cove’s small, pale chest and abdomen. His nipples were already pebbled, so evidently the water hadn’t quite warmed up to a comfortable temperature yet.

“What am I meant to wear after this?” Cove demanded, wheeling on Drift when he realised the other boy was still hovering.

“Huh?” Drift’s eyes flicked back up to Cove’s accusatory blue ones.

“I can’t put those back on,” Cove exclaimed, gesturing to his sweater and moving to unbutton his pants. “You said I’d get sick.”

“Yeah, yeah alright,” Drift sighed wearily. Being responsible for this kid was way more trouble than he needed right now. “I’ll bring you something, I’ve got some old clothes I’ve grown out of.”

“I don’t want your clothes!” Cove scrunched up his face in disgust. “Surely there’s some new garments somewhere?”

Drift smirked and shook his head, “Sorry your highness, you can either wear my rags or try your luck naked on a ship full of horny old men.”

Drift turned on his heels quickly and strode out of the wash room, leaving Cove’s explosion of expletives behind him as he went.