Chase the Horizon
They all joined the crew with their own dreams in hand. Each and every one of them had something to accomplish, some goal to meet, an idea they had to see through. They banded together as a crew, and in the beginning that's all they were. They were comrades; they lived and fought together, depended on one another, and their every adventure only brought them that much closer.
And then one day, they looked around themselves and realized how different things had become.
It was a gradual process, with a gentle, steady momentum; never falling back in on itself, always evolving, becoming something new and different and better with each passing day...It was a wonder they caught it at all.
But catch it they did, and it gave them something to think over on days when the seas were calm and the peaceful sounds of a violin drifted out over the waters.
At some point, they became more than a crew searching for boundless treasure. Suddenly, they were just a group of friends, sailing the waves in pursuit of the horizon. They grasped the rails eagerly at their arrival at each new island, anxious to explore. They relished the heavy tension before each fight, knowing that no matter what happened, they'd win or lose together. They shared victories, as well as defeats. And they would throw themselves into the path of Death itself, if only for the chance to save another.
That was the part that startled them the most. Didn't they have goals, dreams? Didn't they have things they needed to do? How could they be thinking about sacrificing their lives so easily?
The answer was obvious.
A book is filled with pages, each as important as the next, but without the proper binding they would all fall away. There was no way a group of people so different--so abnormal--would be able to remain a group without something holding them together.
When did their dreams become the same? When did everything else become so unimportant? Each and everyone one of them would gladly give it all in a heartbeat for him.
He fought so hard for them. Worked himself to the brink of death to be strong enough to protect them. And every time things seemed hopeless--every time there was no way out--he was their miracle. He would stand, running on nothing but willpower, and he would win.
And afterward, as he lay unconscious in bed, their doctor would tell them, not for the first time, that all his miracles would kill him in the end. The little doctor would cry and begin to bandage him, and the rest would file out.
For the days that followed, a gloom would hang over the ship. What could be said? Nothing would change his mind. He wouldn't stop fighting until he won, wouldn't stop climbing until he was at the top. All they could do was hope, pray, that he didn't fall too far.
And then, after the third or forth day of too blue waters and too bright skies, he would wander out onto the deck, looking well-rested and with a bright smile on his face--and suddenly, the ocean was beautiful and the sunlight was glorious again.
And as the skies began to darken, and the violin's music became a lullaby, they drifted off to sleep together on the grassy deck, content and restful.
It was him they'd live and die for, no questions asked.
The boy who leapt suddenly into their worlds, choosing them to save out of millions.
The child who gathered them all under the same flag, creating a family and a home.
The one person in the world they would trust, even when all hope was lost.
"Captain! Land ho!"
A/N: Just something to let you know I'm still alive. Guys, I'm really sorry. ;A; I am working on updates, I really am, I promise. But my computer has passed on, so I'll have to start over from scratch on everything I might've already had started. Dx But I hope you liked this....! 8D;