HEATH

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

I turn to see Olive standing in the doorway of our room, looking tense and angry. She's worn that same expression all day, since this morning when she told us the news.

"'Course," I reply, turning to the captain. She looks agitated to the point of physical pain. 

Olive walks over to her bed, sitting down with her back against the headboard. She doesn't say any more for a minute. She grabs a pillow from behind her and holds it tightly to her chest, seeming deep in contemplation. "I can't stay here," she sighs, breaking the spell of silence. "You know I can't. I need to save them."

Olive has never been patient or passive. Waiting is never her plan of action, even when it is necessary. But this time, even though I know that so much is at stake for her, I need to hold her back.

"We can't," I say, lying down across my bed. God, I'm tired... Being one of the only three full time crew members is taxing. "We don't have a crew."

Only one of our crewmen has come back from his break so far, and Le Roi is only a deckhand. The other crewmen are still off.

The other problem, though, is that even with the rest of the crew back, we won't stand a chance against the Cuban pirates.

"Then what do we do?"  Olive sighs, glaring at the opposite wall. Her eyes are wide with worry and blazing with anger. Poor Liv. There's nothing worse than not knowing.

"We wait," I tell her firmly. "There's nothing you can do right now, Olive. You'd be helping them more if you waited."

After I speak, there is a long pause. I'm afraid I may have angered the captain, that she might lash out at me, but instead, she sighs.

"You're right, aren't you?" She muses, still clutching her pillow. 

I breathe a sigh of relief in my head. "I think so," I agree.

"But I can't just --" she breaks off, seeming too upset to go on with the sentence. "I can't just leave them. God knows what's happening to them. But it's bad, Heath! You and I know better than anyone."

I sigh out loud this time because she's right.

My recollections of the Cuban pirate ship are sparse and ugly. It's a time in our lives that both Olivia and I have worked hard to block out, and don't think about when we can help it. But now, hearing Olivia talk about it, a tidal wave of memories crash over me.

"I'm sorry," Olive says, closing her eyes. "I shouldn't have brought that up."

"No," I sigh. "It's alright. It happened, now it's over, right?" Olive nods her agreement, curling her knees to her chest. I know how she feels. Thinking about the time I spent on the Encantador makes me feel cold all over.

"Yeah," she sighs. "But what do we do?"

It's the second time she's asked, and the second time that I have to tell her to wait. "You've got to be patient, Olive."

"But I can't be patient!" She exclaims. "They could be dead! Or being tortured! I can't just wait around while they're being hurt!" The pain on her face is apparent. I don't know what to tell her.

"Is Bailey coming?" I ask, referring to her sister who is camped out in the pipe room for the moment. I really don't care if her sister is coming along, but I need to change the subject.

Bailey had refused to believe her eyes when Olive had led her aboard the Fina. Pirates, she'd said, don't exist.

"Why does it matter?" Olive asks. 

"I dunno, that's one more crew member, isn't it?" She considers this for a second, frowning at the wall.

"I guess so," she says tentatively. "I mean, she's kinda useless, but maybe she could be a deck hand or something." I nod my agreement. We can always use another deckhand.

"Well," I begin, stifling a yawn. "Maybe we ought to sleep on it. It's pretty late."

"You go ahead," Olive tells me, throwing the pillow aside. "I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep."

"Olive," I sigh. "I'm sure they're fine--"

"How can you even say that?" Olive says accusingly. "Peter's only five, for hell's sake! How could he be fine?"

"You just have to trust me!" I exclaim, my baseless assumptions sending my words reeling. "I'm sure they wouldn't be low enough to kill a five year old!"

"Even if that were true," Olive counters, "what about Brett? What if they kill him?" Her voice breaks on the last word, almost inaudibly.

"Go to sleep, Olive," I sigh, reaching over to turn off the light.

XXX

Just before I close my eyes, I see her slip out of the room and into the still, vacant hallway.

I don't go after her. Some people are just too stubborn to help.