Drift pulled Cove into the Salt Room and helped him to sit down on one of the small stools. The younger boy hadn’t said a single word since arriving back at the ship.

“You gonna tell the captain what happened?” Fletch asked, cocking his head curiously.

“No,” Drift bit his lip, still looking at Cove. The silver haired boy was staring down at the floor, his cheeks were red and tear stained and there was a nasty purple bruise at one corner of his mouth.

“Sensible,” Fletch nodded, “he’d only blame you for leaving the kid alone.”

“Yeah,” Drift replied woodenly. He brought up his hand to try and extend his fingers. The knuckles were swollen and caked with dried blood.

“You’ve screwed up that hand for a while,” Fletch sighed, standing up to go and grab some salt to disinfect the wound. “That brat’s been on board three days and you’ve gotten more injuries than the previous six months put together!”

Fletch walked back over to inspect Drift’s knuckles, “You need a bandage, I’m gonna go see the good doctor.”

“Thanks,” Drift nodded as Fletch exited the room and left him and Cove alone.

“Cove-“ Drift began but stopped as Cove’s ice blue eyes flashed up at him.

“Don’t,” Cove snapped. “Just give me the punishment I don’t care, lashes – whatever. But don’t give me another lecture.”

“Where exactly were you intending to go?” Drift huffed, ignoring him. “You’re so naïve do you really think you’ll just swan off into the sunset and manage to find a way to earn a living? Put food in your belly and a roof over your head?”

“I don’t know!” Cove exclaimed, jumping up. “But at least I would be free to make my own decisions!”

“You’re such a fool,” Drift shook his head irritably; “there’s no such thing as freedom if you don’t have any income and are living on the street. Freedom isn’t a luxury people like us were born into.”

“Don’t group me in with you,” Cove spat. “Were you sold to Shin?”

“No,” Drift shrugged, “I signed up on the Akashi because I realised it wasn’t such a bad place to be after all.” Drift rolled his eyes at Cove’s dubious expression. “I wouldn’t expect a brat like you to understand.”

“Don’t call me that!” Cove snarled, his eyes were glistening again.

“Then stop acting like one,” Drift snapped, trying to ignore the strange rising guilt in his chest as Cove’s swollen lips started to quiver. “Look, just – go get some sleep, you’ve been through a lot.”

“I’m not a baby!” Cove sniffed, looking affronted. “I don’t need afternoon naps.”

Drift huffed, Cove could do whatever the hell he wanted but there was nothing Drift wanted more right now than to crawl into a hammock and just get forty winks.

“But…” Cove muttered. Drift glanced across to see the other boy looked uncomfortable and was refusing to meet Drift’s eyes. “I am kind of hungry.”

“Okay then,” Drift smiled tightly, “I can work with that.”

The ship’s kitchen galley was a long, narrow area inhabited by Gordon, the ridiculously tall cook whose white breeches were always stained with one worrying substance or another.

“Hi Gordy,” Drift grinned as he led Cove into the galley.

“That the new one?” Gordon asked, not even looking up from the book he was reading. It was probably one of the cook’s busty romance novels that he had a penchant for.

“Yeah,” Drift nodded, pushing Cove forwards. “Introduce yourself and play nice,” Drift whispered roughly into the shell of Cove’s ears, not missing the way the younger boy stiffened beneath him, “this is the man that controls what food you get.”

“H-hello,” Cove cleared his throat awkwardly. Drift smirked, evidently Cove could show some manners after all.

“Was wondering if we could grab a snack?” Drift asked hopefully.

“Didn’t you just get back from shore leave?” Gordon frowned. “Why didn’t you eat in Glosko?”

“Ah,” Drift rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “we were working solidly at the market all day, didn’t have time for anything else I’m afraid.”

“I see,” Gordon narrowed his eyes at them, taking Cove’s appearance in for the first time. “Jesus,” Gordon exclaimed, “how does it stay upright?”

“Huh?” Cove frowned in confusion.

“It’s basically a skeleton!” Gordon declared, hurrying over to lift a squawking Cove up as if to weigh him. Gordon’s own protruding belly wobbled up and down with the movement.

Drift laughed as Cove was finally deposited back on the floor and stumbled sideways into Drift.

“I’m sure I can rustle something proper up for you laddie,” Gordon winked conspiratorially at Cove’s bewildered expression before hurrying off into the pantry whilst humming an old sky shanty.

It wasn’t long before two hot bowls of steaming stew were placed in front of them.

“Thanks Gordy,” Drift smiled gratefully, turning to nudge Cove to show some manners and freezing. The younger boy was basically face down in the bowl, inhaling the stew. Half the slop was over his face and he had managed to devour a good portion of it already.

“What?” Cove snapped, glaring up at Drift and wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“Good,” Gordon sat down opposite them wearing a pleased expression. “Finally someone who truly appreciates my cooking. Cove my boy you are welcome in my galley any time.”

Drift frowned, Gordy was well known for chucking knives at anyone who tried to intrude unwelcome into his little kitchen haven.

“Mmfkyou,” Cove coughed, slurping down more stew and choking.

Drift clapped him on the back a few times before Cove shoved him away with a grimace. “Stop hitting me!” Cove whined.

“Was just trying to stop you suffocating,” Drift muttered.

“There you are!” Fletch announced dramatically as he came charging into the galley holding a bandage. “Been bloody looking all over for your sorry arse.”

“Get out devil spawn!” Gordon shouted, picking up a spatula and lunging threateningly towards Fletch.

“What the bleedin’ hell?” Fletch yelped, dodging the attack and running behind Drift.

“Every sodding time you come in here your sticky little fingers swipe something that ain’t yours!” Gordon bellowed furiously.

Drift looked round as he heard a coughing sound, thinking Cove might be choking again. To his surprise though the younger boy was smiling, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

“You laughing you little shitter?” Fletch growled reaching across to bat Cove on the back of the head but squeaking as a saucepan hurtled through the air and caught him painfully on the wrist.

“Bloody hell Gordy!” Fletch whimpered, cradling his arm to his chest.

“Don’t be interrupting the whippersnapper,” Gordon scolded, jabbing a fat finger at Fletch. “He hasn’t finished all his stew yet.”

Drift frowned in amusement as Cove burped loudly, pushing away his empty bowl and reaching to polish off the rest of Drift’s portion.