Yuuri ripped through the masts of four ships and sunk the lead before anyone could even process what was happening. He heard the shouts below as he tore through the fleet, unable in those moments to feel the ache in his own wings and lungs, in the bloodied claws which had sprouted from his hands.
When eyes and guns turned on him, Yuuri positioned himself at the center of the crippled fleet and screeched at them to forget him. They did.
Yuuri flew past them, biting on fabric shredded off his own clothes against the agony of the strain spasming through his spine and wings.
He choked back cries of happiness when he finally saw Victor’s ship, just off a port. Yuuri crashed into a sail, unable to stop himself, falling hard onto the deck below. Pain shot through his shoulder, his hip, but he scrambled up, hastening across on elbows and knees until he found the power to push himself onto his feet.
“Yuuri, wait, don’t–”
Yuuri did not hear the rest of the words shouted after him, bolting for Victor’s cabin. He found his captain, laid in their bed, with blankets folded neatly over his waist. As still as death.
Yuuri’s wings swept paintings off the walls, knocked maps onto the floor, overturned an entire table. He collapsed at the edge of the bed, groping for the satchel his mother had tied around his waist, and dumped the contents onto the mattress at Victor’s side.
He tore off Victor’s bandages, whimpering at the angry red still concentrated around his gunshot wound. Yuuri smeared the gold of the honey across it, layering it thick even as he kept his touch light.
From the nearby stand, Yuuri grabbed the first drink he saw and poured the medicine powder into it, letting it mix with the liquid. He grasped for Victor’s hand, for his wrist, searching. “Please… please, please, live…” A pulse beat under Yuuri’s fingers.
The relief which escaped his lips in a whimper was feeble. Yuuri climbed onto the bed, behind Victor, holding his captain’s feverish body against him. He pushed Victor up to sit and tilted his head back against his shoulder. Careful, Yuuri tipped the drink to his lips, gently prying Victor’s mouth open. It trickled in.
Victor choked, sputtering, but Yuuri held him steady, arm wound low around his waist. Silver lashes fluttered.
“Shhh, just drink. Please.”
Victor drank. Bit by bit, until it emptied. And Victor slumped back against Yuuri. “My… my lovebird came back for me…”
“Be quiet and rest.”
“Mmmm, I will… I’d like a welcome home kiss first…” Victor’s head lolled on Yuuri’s shoulder, tucked into the crook of the siren’s neck.
Yuuri wrapped his wings around them both, kissing Victor’s temple. It was hot against his lips.
The entire time that Victor dozed, Yuuri kept him cradled close, a hand covering Victor’s. Sensitive to the weakness of his pulse, he counted the time that ticked, long, between each beat.