Title: My Savior's Keeper (I hate this title, will change it soon)

Pairing: Candy

Authors: meeshimish and rfg_72

Rating: NC17

Summary: Randy POV- Randy is an ex-soldier trying to make his way home after many months away from his beloved fiance Samantha when his ship is stuck by lightening during the night, leaving Randy the sole survivor who washes ashore on a small island where he's pulled from the merciless sea by Cody; an island native who's held captive by a vicious tribe leader named Zak who's vowed that anyone who touches his property will be put to death. But that doesn't stop the native from falling for the lost soldier, breaking the heart of his best friend Justin who may not have been the one to betray. Read more to find out!

A/N: I am very hesitant to post this here because of the number of people who do not read the notes I include here before the stories with the WARNINGS and explanations as to what to expect next like a sequel or epilogue, or even what's coming next in the story. Please read ALL warnings and notes! A lot of times your questions are answered right HERE!

My Saviors Keeper

Where am I? It's so cold, and quiet, and I can't open my eyes because I'm too god damn weak. My body is beaten and drained of all energy from the merciless waves of the ocean that I'd been miraculously rescued from, and how long ago that I was pulled out of the water by a strong, tall, mysterious stranger in nothing but a pair of black shorts, I don't know. It couldn't have been more than an hour, but my calculations could be off seeing as how I spent all night clinging to a small piece of driftwood that somehow survived the sinking of my ship. Well, not my ship but the ship that I was on that went down during a horrendous storm that raged above us during the night. I don't remember enough to know exactly how the ship went down, my head is so foggy and everything happened so fast and I'm still so terribly weak, and thirsty. So as to what happened exactly I really do not know. I just know I spent that last several hours clinging to what must have been part of a door from the ship, drifting in and out of consciousness after a vicious storm thrashed me about the ocean and almost drowned me. Almost.

But I survived. Somehow. And I've partially just woken up after who knows how long when the man who rescued me lifted me up from the water and carried me away from the shore and into what must be a shelter because it's warmer now and the rain that followed me all night pours against something solid above me; the peaceful sound muffled as the rain spills downward to the soft, thirsty ground as the thunder continues to roll and clap in the distance. I don't know if this is a new storm or the same massive beast that struck my ship but each time the thunder booms loud enough to rattle walls my chest tightens with terror, my mind reeling and trying to send me into a panic as I feel the constant splashes of the waves of the ocean moving up and down my body or crashing over my head as if I'm at the oceans mercy once more. But I'm not and just as quickly as the panic starts to build it stops and fades. I'm out of the water and on dry land, laying on my back against something soft and giving beneath me. A bed? No, not quite. Possibly a pile of blankets? Or am I just that out of it? I can't tell, my eyes won't open but I must be inside of something, and not a tent but something solid and sturdy enough to withstand the storm. But where am I? Where are my crew mates, my friends? Am I even safe here without them? The last thing I can remember before being pulled from the sea is jumping from the burning ship into the water just before the fire spread to the barrels of gun powder stored in the brig. I didn't see or hear my friends or crew mates jump in after me but they could have done so before me and if they were luckier than I was then they managed to find a spot on one of the small life boats. Of course, I was not so fortunate but it was so dark after the fiery ship was swallowed up by the sea and I'd drifted so far from the sunken vessel that I doubt anyone could have heard my shouts for help, I know I sure as hell didn't hear theirs.

I have no idea how I survived the night or managed to cling to that plank with the waves dragging me and tossing me about in the purest darkness I have ever seen, except for the lightening. The lightening lit up the sky bright as day, the intense bolts like thin skeleton hands viciously tearing through the darkness, booming and crackling it's way across the sky as the wind howled into my ears until I must have lost consciousness, and somehow I didn't let go of the plank. Call it what you will but it was nothing short of a miracle that I even made it ashore and even more of a miracle that I made it there alive.

"Is he breathing?"
"Barely."
"Where did you find him in this weather? How is he not smashed to bits against the rocks!"
"I don't know but he's lucky he washed up when he did because I was just about to head in from catching breakfast when I spotted him in the sand by the rock-line. Another couple of big waves and he would have been a goner."
"Damn he is lucky. But he looks so weak, and beat up-"
"I know, he must have been adrift for hours during the storms. Hurry, fetch some water, we'll tend to his wounds."
"I'll grab some bandages too."
"Good idea, but hurry, Justin, he's just about frozen through..."

I can't see them but I can hear them, their soft voices stirring me out of an achy slumber more than once as I drift in and out of consciousness, my heart racing with the fear of uncertainty. I'm completely at their mercy, these two, soft spoken strangers that hover over me as I lay here paralyzed with pure exhaustion from the unforgiving sea. God I'm so thirsty. And fuck I wish I wasn't alone. Well, I'm not alone, but I wish I knew the two men who rescued me. One has just left, that much I can tell from the rush of cool air over my body that came and went like the opening and closing of door. But the voice of the one who pulled me from the shore, he's still here. I still can't see him but I know he's there because I can feel him moving about round me, tending to the fire as it crackles and pops, the warmth of the flames barely touching my icy skin. If only my eyes would open so I could see my rescuers and my surroundings. If only I could muster a sound to tell him of my thirst!

But I can't speak, I've tried but I can barely swallow, my throat is so dry and painfully sore, aching as my body silently begs for water. I'd been in such a daze when the man who pulled me from the shore that I didn't have the mind to say a word and now the daze has cleared some but my body still feels so detached as my muscles ache and throb with weakness, and they don't respond to my attempts to move. I try to lift my hand, but my fingers don't so much as twitch. I try to open my mouth, but my lips won't part, not even a little. I want to panic. Because it's as if I'm frozen solid, paralyzed completely from head to toe, and I can only pray that it's not permanent and simply just exhaustion that has stolen my body.

I don't know how I'm as conscious as I am right now but I'm extremely thankful for it because at least I can hear what's going on around me and as much as I want to see my surroundings I'm still satisfied with my only available sense that's still working, even if I hear something I don't want to hear. The important thing is, don't panic, stay in control and assess the situation like I've been trained to do. Show no emotion, show no sign of fear, and take control. But control is out of my reach isn't it? I can only slow my racing heart and calm my nerves, and the rest will have to wait. Wait until I can actually do something other than lie here completely vulnerable with the entire length of my body refusing to move, I'm literally frozen through. And no amount of training can help this particular situation, I'm paralyzed and until my body is warm and get's the proper rest that it needs there's not a damn thing that I can do about it. Except listen, and listen carefully. That's all I can do.

As I lay here and listen to the man move about around me and try to stay calm about my condition I can't help but think about my friends. Did they make it into a lifeboat? And if they did will they reach land in time? Will they send help for me? I'd like to think so but we are not considered honorable men us "deserters" of the army who are readily shipped home. So unless my friends push for my rescue I may be simply assumed dead and lost to the merciless sea, and then forgotten. I mustn't panic. I can build a suitable vessel with the skills that I learned before "deserting" my post and if I'm lucky I can build it and be done before the next storm hits. If I'm lucky...Too bad I'm not the "lucky" type. But then again maybe I am since I survived the storm and washed ashore and my friends could be the unlucky ones, they could very well be dead. Or maybe they washed ashore here too? I wish I could ask and put my weary mind to rest before I burn through what little energy I'm running off of now, which is another miracle. But this "reserve' of energy is probably another "skill" I picked up while being "molded" into an "elite soldier", which is just a fancy way of calling me a "legalized murderer", in my opinion. But that's what got me loaded onto that god forsaken ship, my opinion that finally rubbed the wrong people the wrong way. Fine by me. I was ready to go home and the "skills" they drilled into my head constantly for the last three agonizing months? I'll pick and choose what I want to keep and eagerly discard the rest. Because I'm no murderer and I'd rather be disgraced as a "deserter" than have to wake up every day with the blood of my victims on my hands as a painful reminder of all the horrible things I'd done. Call me a coward, deserter, a pathetic waste of a human life I don't care, just don't call me a murderer.

The days of my army life are over and if all that I am is going to be summed up by those three miserable months I spent in "special training" then so be it. I know what I am and I know I made the right choice to speak my mind when my commanding officer tried to order me to strangle the life out a prisoner just because the poor soul wouldn't comply and give us the answers we needed. I wouldn't do it, I couldn't! I disobeyed a direct order and the poor soul died anyway but, by someone else's hand and NOT mine because "destined to be the best of the best" or not I am not a fucking murderer.

Of course, with my refusal to break they labeled me as weak and I got my ass kicked for disobeying a commanding officer, but it was worth it. And fortunately enough because of the intense, barbaric training I endured beforehand I was able to take the beating without experiencing too much pain and only a few broken bones that have since then healed. But the deeper wounds, the wounds that came about each time I saw my team mates take someone's life will always be with me, and so will the screams of their innocent victims.

My "team" was a secret operation made specially for the purpose of murder and torture and required the utmost secrecy. So naturally no one would believe my story if I told it and I don't plan to. I'd be laughed out of town if I haven't been already because of my "deserter" status so no one's going to stop to listen to my tale when they've already made up their minds and labeled me weak. But, little do they know I was extremely lucky to make it out of that hell hole alive, and incredibly strong too, so if people want to call me a deserter or weak then so be it because I know the truth. I KNOW that earned my freedom, and I earned the right to choose the life I want. And I don't want to be a murderer, no matter what it costs me.

I also don't want to die here with these two strangers whom of which I have no idea if I can trust, especially if they figure out that I'm a soldier, then I could be in some trouble if I washed ashore on enemy territory. Well, actually I think I would be the enemy in this case. I'm the stranger here, not them. And I've ended up on the shores of what very well could be their home...This is just a tad unnerving, especially since I can't move.

"I found an extra canteen." The younger, softer voice of two men startles me and my body wants to jerk but can't so it doesn't. Canteen? Does that mean water?
"Good thinking. Did you find a suitable blanket?"
"Yes, a couple, and some leggings too."

"Perfect, help me get his wet clothing off, careful of the cuts on his arms." I can't imagine that I have much clothing left but what little bit I do is cold and clinging to my skin, chilling me to the bone. And it's a little alarming to hear that I have cuts on my arms because I don't feel them and I have no idea how they got there, hopefully they're not too deep or numerous.

I feel movement around me and after a brief, silent moment what remains of my clothes is slowly lifted and carefully torn, the shreds gently pulled away from beneath me before I hear them hit the floor with a soft plop. Something wet and warm touches my brow in a soft dabbing motion until a soft rag drags across my forehead and temple, and I feel something stinging along my forearm of my left arm. My cuts? Shit they hurt, maybe they are deep. But the hands tending to them are so gentle and so soothing as what feels like warm water drips onto my skin and then is so carefully dabbed and wiped away. And the stinging stops. I feel the water drip onto the cold skin of my abdomen and my body shivers weakly as an ache floods up my spine. The gentle hand drags the moist cloth across my stomach from side to side, going slow as it travels carefully around the curves and dips of my muscles, I must be filthy, or maybe I'm injured there too and I'm just too numb to feel it. I can feel more of my legs though, the blanket tucked against my body is quickly trapping in the heat of the fire, thawing my frozen muscles into relaxing bit by bit with each passing minute, but I still can't move.

"...Do you think that he will make it?" The younger voice whispers over me.
"It's hard to tell right now, he's too pale to be certain but perhaps we will know tomorrow morning after he's had some decent rest."
"Did he even wake up when you found him?"
"Briefly. His eyes opened for a moment then rolled back into his head." They pause, my body is shivering, shaking me and possibly catching their eyes. But not for long because I feel something heavy and yet soft falling gracefully over my legs and abdomen then the gentle tucking of soft object against my legs, a blanket.A thick, warm blanket, maybe I am safe here?
"Where do you think he's from?" The younger one asks and startles me and this time I feel my hands jerk a little in surprise beneath the blankets. I try to do it again but nothing, damn it.
"Not sure, but what's left of his clothing looks like he could be from anywhere in the other lands, or he could one of those soldiers Zak was telling us about-" He stops at the same moment I feel the cold suddenly return to my legs and just as quickly the man who rescued me lets out an appalled scoff, "Justin! Stop that this instant!"
"Oh, sorry," The other says and snickers and my breathing quickens as he lowers the blanket over what I realize is my groin. "I just wanted to see it-"
"I know, and it's rude. Try to restrain yourself until he's awake at least. Then you can tie him up and fuck him for all I care. Just leave him be with he rests!"
"Calm down, I was just looking-"
"I know, enough. You don't know this man at all and for all you know he could sit up and snap your pretty little neck if he caught you inspecting his details-"

"Alright, alright, point taken." He interrupts and lets out another snicker, "But I doubt a big guy like him would let me tie him up."

"...No, probably not."
"You wouldn't help me?"
"I haven't really thought about it and you shouldn't either at a time like this! The mans on the brink of death, Justin! Have some tact and try to keep it in your pants until he wakes!"

Justin sighs, "Hmm, fine...BUT, as bitchy as you are right now, I think you would help if you saw what I saw. He's bigger than Zak, you know."
"Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"Just grab the water and shut up, Justin, you can humor yourself with your comments later." Yes, Justin, just get the water and keep your damn hands off of me, please. Now is not the time to check out my "details", crazy little freak. I've just come out of the ocean a complete mess for fucks sake! And this Justin is what, checking me out? For what? Nothing going on where he was checking is any of Justin's damn business! But Justin was right about one thing though, because there's no way in HELL that I'd let him tie me up, or fuck me. I'd say I was flattered if I could but I'm NOT. And because for so many reasons this Justin and his idea to fuck me is just NOT going to happen, one reason being that I have a fiance, a beautiful woman that I've promised myself to back home that is desperately awaiting my return after three long months of my absence. And just thinking of her makes my body ache with worry. My beautiful Samantha so young and fragile, she'll be so distraught when she hears my ship went down in the night, her sweet heart will be broken to pieces! I must get back to her, I must recuperate as quickly as possible and find my way back home before she fears the worst! That is, if she'll have me as the worthless, pathetic "deserter" and ex-soldier that I am. Her father won't be pleased and she and I will have to elope without his permission but she loves me, entirely, and she'd run away with me the first chance she got. I just need to get my ass home and fight this weakness with everything I have so I can wake the fuck up.

But first, my thirst! I must deal with Justin and his curious eyes after I tell them of my horrible thirst! That or I should say my final prayers now because I'm not going to make it if I don't get some water! Because my body is shutting down, I can feel it, even now my legs are still fighting going completely numb. But I'm fighting it with everything I have, I won't give up! I hold my breath, that much I can still do. I hold it hard, the pressure quickly hurting my chest. I let it out in a puff and feel my brow twitches, the first voluntary movement I've been able to make! I push harder and take another breath but my brow dips into a frown and the stranger above me instantly responds with a light gasp, "Justin, he's awake!" I feel a sturdy hand suddenly slipping beneath the back of my head, cradling it securely in the warmth of his palm. "Easy," The voice of my rescuer says soothingly as I feel my frown deepen and his gentle hand lifts my head as something hard presses against my parched lips, "Here, water, drink." Oh yes, oh please yes! I open my mouth just as it hits my lips and I gulp and my throat is so dry I choke slightly, spewing water over my chin and face. But I don't stop, I stifle as much of the choking as possible and gulp down as much water as I can, the cool, refreshing liquid suddenly drawing my eyes open as it quickly replenishes some of my strength and sends a small burst of energy through my veins.

I drink until the water stops and the stranger takes the empty canteen away just as my vision begins to clear, the haze slowly dissipating and sending color rushing into focus. Everything is dim in the fires soft amber lighting but even so I can make out a firm, bare form of a man leaning over me but I can't completely make him out. I blink and it helps but not much because the only thing that comes into view is something deep and mesmerizing blue; so blue and clear and bright like two shinning orbs that fiercely penetrate the dim lighting around me and stare directly into my soul. I freeze again and I can't help but stare as my vision struggles to clear, blinking rapidly, I must be seeing things. I must be a lot worse off than I thought and on the verge of delirium because those orbs, fuck they just can't be real. The raw, mesmerizing energy pouring from them into the very depth of my soul has to be part of a dream or I must be dying and the good lord is calling me towards the bright lights of salvation!

I close my eyes, clenching them shut tight to chase away the ominous orbs. But someone shakes me, their hand gently rocking my head as the soft voice of the man who rescued me tries to coax me to wake, "Hey, hey, wake up. Can you hear me?"
"Is he awake?"
"I think so, just give him a minute..."

I take a deep, slow, painful breath and let it out as I force myself to reopen my eyes. It doesn't help, the orbs are still there!

The orbs shine down at me and I can't help but stare into them, my eyes widening on their own. I try to sit up but my arms deny me once again as the orbs penetrate deeper and deeper into me, my heart racing. I blink rapidly, panic rising and burning at the back of my throat like bile that I can't swallow down. Shit. I blink harder, jerking my head against the hand still cradling my skull. Come on, Randy, get a hold of yourself and fucking MOVE! I close my eyes again, clenching them tight for as long as a I can, but it's futile and my body shakes as my eyes fly open, my vision bursting into full focus.

I'm startled by what I see, my breath catching in my throat enough to make me choke and I do as the man above me watches over my struggles with concern. What the- My god! Those are his eyes! Those beautiful, bright, mysterious, penetrating orbs are someone's eyes. "Hi..." He whispers to me just as my choking tapers off, his lips curving into a slight smile but my eyes are transfixed to his blue orbs, their bright intensity trying to steal my breath and it succeeds. "Can you hear me?" I nod, eyes still wide. His smile grows, but only a little. "You're safe here, sir. My friend and I are tending to your wounds and you can rest, we will watch over you."

Okay so I'm safe and I can put that worry to rest for now but, I open my mouth to speak and have to swallow to find my voice as my throat tightens with exhaustion. I swallow and try again. "Who-Who are you?" My voice is so raspy and soft, did he even hear me?
"Shhh, you're safe here, just rest."
"But, I-"
"Shhh," He presses his fingers over my lips, silencing me as my eyes flutter and close on their own accord. Shit. "Just rest," my rescuer insists and as much as I'd like to know his name I know he's right, I need rest if I want to pull through. My body is just too bruised and broken, my mind too foggy and detached to make sense of my surroundings or even the pain I must really be in. But perhaps once I'm rested we can exchange names and I can thank him properly, that and find out just where in the hell I washed up and how soon I can get home.

"Is he asleep?"
"I think so."
"Are you going to stay with him through the day?"
"Yes, he'll need a watchful eye and since you can't be trusted not to molest the poor bastard in his sleep, the task will go to me."
"Yeah yeah yeah, I'm a horrible, shameless hussy, I know. But okay, what if Zak comes for us? Where will we hide this poor soul when that happens?"
"We don't have to hide him, we will just have to make sure that Zak has no reason to come in here so he won't see him."
"You sure that will work? Zak's been pretty intrusive with us lately..."
"I know, that thought crossed my mind but what else can we do? The caves are gone with the high tides of the storm and if we stashed him anywhere else it's likely he'd be eaten alive by mosquitoes or worse. We have to leave him where he is if we want him to have a chance of making it. And I'll deal with Zak if I need to and you can stay here and keep watch while I'm gone."
"Okay, I could do that. I hope it works. Because I don't think we could carry this poor guy all the way to the caves anyway, he's too big."
"Yes, I noticed that too. But more importantly he'll be very lucky if he makes it through the night so let's worry about Zak and the caves once we know if the stranger will pull through..." His voice starts to lower, his last few words terribly muffled. I can stay awake no longer.

"I hope he does make it. Good thing you found him when you did."

"...when he wakes... we shall see if it's a good thing..."

TBC