Disclaimer for entire story: I don't own Glee or pirate ships (oh, how I would love to own a musical pirate ship), so it is safe to assume that I am not RIB.
There was loud crashing sound as lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the thick black clouds and the torrential downpour. Rain was sloshing down onto the decks of the Warbler in sheets and crewmen scampered about on deck shouting orders and obscenities to one another as they tried to keep her steady.
"Blaine!" David raced clumsily towards the hazel-eyed boy his boots skidding on the deck. "Captain says to get bellow deck. This storm isn't letting up anytime soon and-"
The white sails were illuminated by a flash of lightning and there was another loud rumble. David yelped and covered his face with his hands. Blaine grabbed his arms and shoved him towards the cabin door shouting. "Go down before me! Let me get Wes, alright? He shouldn't be up here either."
"Blaine, he's the Captain-"
"And God knows that was a mistake, because he's no older than I am and he has about as much experience at sea as that ridiculous parrot of his."
David snorted. "I'm not sure what I'm more afraid of," he called over the sounds of the wind, "the storm, or Wes' face if he hears you bad mouthing Pavarotti!"
Blaine laughed and turned to look for the boy in question, scanning the quarterdeck for signs of his unwaveringly faithful yellow parrot.
A wave crashed against the side causing the boat to rock and the two boys were effectively knocked of their feet. Blaine yelped as they slammed up against the sides of the ship and ran a hand through his dark curls, rubbing the sore spot on his head. "Ow! Bloody-"
"David!" There was the voice Blaine had been looking for. He turned his head to see an out-stretched arm and a shoulder with a bundle of yellow feathers on it. "I told you to get him bellow deck!"
"Working on it!" shouted David who was scrambling to his feet. "The boat had other ideas!"
"It's a ship," Blaine muttered half-heartedly, accepting Wes' hand and letting him pull me to my feet. "Wes, come into the cabin with us! This is insane!"
Wes' dark eyes were wide and worrying. "I know that, damn it, but my father put me in charge and-"
"Wes! He may have put you in charge, but he doesn't want you dead! Let Thad handle it! You're seventeen for Christ's sakes. What do you even know about this sort of thing?"
Wes looked like he was deliberating for a few seconds, but he shook his head and shrugged his shoulder up. Pavarotti squawked indignantly and found a new perch with David, pecking at the dark skin of his hand when he reached up to pat his beak—"Damn it, Wesley!"—and attempting to unsuccessfully shake the rain from his feathers. "No, I can't," he looked Blaine levelly in the eye. "This is my responsibility and I'm not passing it off to anyone. If I don't get you to Port safely Governor Anderson will eat me." He offered a weak smile. "Get below deck. Now. Put Pav in his cage and wait in my cabin."
Before Blaine could protest there was another crack of lightning and a roll of thunder even closer together than usual this time and Wes was shoving him forwards. "Go, Blaine! Stop being so god damn noble!"
David threw the ornately carved wouldn't door open and the wind blew it into the wall with a sharp BANG! sound. He pushed Blaine inside as he shot one last look over his shoulder to see Wes, his hat blown off to God knows where in the storm, struggling to hold rope in place with Thad's help before the door was slammed shut again and the noise was cut off.
"Come on." David moved through the small hallway, which was lit only by a faintly shining oil lamp rocking back and forth on the ceiling. Blaine followed close behind him stumbling a little as the Warbler rocked again and pushed his way through into Wes' cabin where David set Pavarotti into his golden cage before sitting down on the chair and chewing his lip nervously.
Blaine sat on the edge of the bed and looked anxiously out the large glass window where water was crashing up violently. "Do you think he's going to be okay?"
"Wes?" David asked. "Yeah, he'll be fine. I'm sure of it."
Except he didn't sound sure.
There was silence in the cabin and all that could be heard was the muffled booming of the thunder and faint shout of orders from up on deck until suddenly there was a very definitive CRACK that Blaine barley had time to register before David was diving off his chair and knocking him to the floor as what he assumed was the mast crashed heavily down through the ceiling and onto the bed where he had been sitting just moments ago.
"Blaine! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine! Are you?"
"I think so. What the Hell just happened?"
"I don't know!"
"Shut UP, Pavarotti!"
Blaine pushed himself to his feet examining the wreckage of the Captain's quarters as the rain pounded through the gaping hole created by the mast. He heard feet rushing around on the deck and then there were heads peering down into the room and Wes was jumping in and screaming something that sounded like, "Blavid! Daine! Thank God!" and he and David were being crushed in a tight (and soaking wet) embrace.
"Wes," choked David, "I can't- breathe!"
Wes squished them harder.
"Captain!" Wes released them and Blaine sucked in deep breathes of cool, damp air and shared a glance with David who was massaging his arm where Wes had jammed it against him. "What are we going to do about the mast? We can't make Port like this. Warbler lost 2 of her sails in one go."
We sucked in a breathe as everyone stared at him waiting for orders. He looked absolutely terrified for a few seconds before he set a strong face in his place. "Keep her steady as possible for tonight. We'll calculate our position once the clouds clear off and decide what to do from there." His voice was resolute, but he shot a questioning look to Thad who nodded almost imperceptibly at him. "Yes. Right. All hands on deck! Take your orders from Tha- From Mr. Watson! All of you! Go now!"
Blaine and David move to go through the hall, but Wes put out a hand to stop them. "Not you two. I think you've nearly died enough times for one night."
"Just once!" Blaine objected (and right, maybe that had been a bad defense, because Wes was raising his eyebrow at him like he was insane), "and besides, David saved me!" He turned to David. "Thank you for that, by the way. I really didn't want to be crushed by a mast."
"Duly noted." David smiled weakly. "You're welcome."
"God damn it, you irritating little parrot-"
"Blaine!" Wes admonished, "Don't insult my bird. Now, come with me. We're going down to the brig and I'm going to make sure you two aren't dead by morning."
"My apologies, Blaine. Would you rather be crushed by another mast?"
Blaine sighed and rolled his eyes as Wes undid the latch on Pavarotti's cage. The bird immediately hopped into it's rightful place on his shoulder and settled down.
This was going to be a long night.