Chapter Text
August 1872
Sea breeze. Hoseok breathed deeply as he leaned against the railing and a light mist sprayed up against him as the steamship moved tirelessly across the Pacific. The water was chilly, but not quite cold. It felt refreshing, loud. Just strong enough to push the last of his exhaustion away before the first threads of dawn wove their way into the sky.
Hoseok was there for the colors. He’d watched every sunrise and sunset since the ship left port over a week ago. He’d used the last of his money to book passage on the ship, gambling everything he had on the hope of a more beautiful dawn, a more striking sunset.
The first night he’d brought his sketchbook and some pastels with him, intent on getting to work, intent on proving that he was working and not wasting his security. He was blocked on land, couldn’t paint anything worth the canvas he used. He needed a change of scenery to bring back his creativity.
But the first night, the first sunset, didn’t bring him any closer. He sketched it, half-heartedly brought the colors of sky down onto the page, already sensing it was useless. He didn’t bother saving the page. He tore it from his notebook and let the breeze sweep it behind him on deck. That night he lay down on his bunk and let his tears fall silently. He’d try again in the morning.
Hoseok sketched for three more days. Tore out six more pages. Threw two of them into the sea. Thought about throwing himself in the sea, too.
This night was the first Hoseok didn’t bring his sketchbook. He promised himself a day off. A day just to relax and observe and to maybe, just maybe, feel a little bit good about something.
The sun peaked over the horizon and sent a flood of reds and oranges scurrying over the water and into the sky. Hoseok sighed. It was beautiful. The colors were beautiful, no pastel, no paint could match them. The best he could do was make something that made people feel what it was like to look at them.
That was the real problem with his art, Hoseok knew. Most of the time he just didn’t feel anything.
“Wow, it’s really beautiful today, isn’t it?”
Hoseok turned, surprised at the sudden voice behind him. He saw a tall, lanky man about his own age staring at the sunrise with gleaming eyes and a dimpled smile. Hoseok wished he could feel that moved with the scene in front of them.
The man walked over and leaned against the railing next to Hoseok, eyes still transfixed on watching the sunrise. Hoseok fidgeted, sliding his hands self-consciously along the cold, metal bar.
“No sketching today?” the man asked as the sun was about halfway clear of the horizon, now too bright to be viewed directly.
Hoseok turned the man in surprise. “No, not today.”
“That’s too bad,” the man said. “I was looking forward to catching it.”
Hoseok’s brow furrowed. “Catching it?”
The man smiled and nodded. Then he reached into his double breasted coat and pulled out three sheets of paper.
“One of them slipped past me,” he said apologetically as he held them out for Hoseok to see.
Hoseok only half-glanced at the paper. He knew the sketches well enough to know he didn’t want to see them again. He didn’t especially want anyone else to see them either. He felt his face heat up and he wished the man would put them away.
“I hope you don’t mind me keeping them. You didn’t seem to want them.”
For a moment Hoseok considered asking the man to drop them in the sea. They were mistakes. They weren’t meant to be seen by other people. But the man’s sincerity, and his obvious shyness, made Hoseok relent.
“Be my guest,” Hoseok said.
“They’re very good,” the man said as he carefully put the papers back in his coat. “I don’t know why you threw them away like that.”
“You don’t know much about art,” Hoseok said.
The man shook his head with a laugh. “No, that’s true I don’t. But I know what I like. I like these.”
Hoseok smiled. “Thank you.”
“You know, you never signed any of your work. I’m your fan and I don’t even know who you are.”
“You wouldn’t know me from my name, either, but it’s Hoseok. Jung Hoseok.”
“Jung Hoseok,” the man said each syllable carefully, then he held out his hand. “I’m Kim Namjoon. Nice to meet you.”
Namjoon’s hands were surprisingly soft and warm against Hoseok’s, though he hand a firm grip. Hoseok wished he hadn’t broken away from the handshake so soon.
Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck. “So, would you like to get breakfast? I think we’ve missed the last of the sunrise. Sorry about that.”
Hoseok glanced back at the sky and laughed quietly. “I’d love to, but I think it’ll be another couple of hours before they start serving it.”
“Don’t worry, I know a guy,” Namjoon said, beckoning Hoseok to follow him.
“You know a guy?”
“One of the perks when you design the ship. They let you sail for free and you get introduced to all the crew. Remy’s already prepping for the day, so he’ll have something for us to eat.”
Hoseok grinned as he followed Namjoon back below deck and down a narrow hallway. “You designed all this? That’s impressive, though I may need to have a few words with you about the size of my room.”
Namjoon laughed, turning his head down and blushing slightly. “I didn’t design that part. I design engines, control systems, that sort of thing. Like I said, I’m not artist. I just have a knack for seeing how things fit together.”
Remy, an overweight and overworked Frenchman with a stained apron and flour dust on his wrists, tugged Namjoon into a tight hug as soon as they entered the kitchen. He patted Namjoon on the back, sending up a cloud of flour around them.
“Here to steal an early breakfast again?” Remy asked, his accent smoothly running the words together.
“You know me too well,” Namjoon said. He stepped aside so that Hoseok could come forward. “I was hoping to get some for a friend of mine, too. This is Hoseok. Hoseok, this is Remy.”
They shook hands briefly before Remy turned and shouted something in French to one of his assistants who was peeling a basketful of potatoes. When he looked back at Namjoon and Hoseok, he was all smiles.
“So, any luck today? Did you catch your drawing for the day?” Remy asked.
Namjoon laughed. “No, but I caught the artist.”
Hoseok blushed. “They were just a few sketches. Nothing special.”
Remy folded his arms. “You shouldn’t say things like that. You’re just insulting my friend’s taste. And I happen to know that he has exquisite taste. It’s why he loves my cooking so much.”
The potato-peeling assistant ran up behind Remy with two plates stacked with bacon, scrambled eggs, and sausage. Remy yanked them away from the assistant who cowered before darting back to his corner of the kitchen to peel more potatoes.
Remy bowed slightly as he handed over the plates, treating them as though he were presenting them with the crown jewels. Namjoon grabbed his plate and inhaled deeply. “You’re a master, Remy,” he said with a smile.
Remy nodded. “No one can scare a kid into frying an egg like I can.”
They ate just outside the kitchen in a small dining area for the staff. Remy stopped in a couple of times, but his work preparing for the real breakfast hours kept him from staying too long. Hoseok sipped coffee from a tin mug Remy had brought out after they sat down at the table and listened to Namjoon talk about everything from his schooling to his dreams of traveling and designing new and better ways to get people to new places faster than ever before. Hoseok was fascinated. For the first time since he’d boarded the ship, the voyage started to lift him out of his slump.
***
The explosion happened just after half past three in the morning.
Hoseok jolted up in his narrow bed at the sound. Tearing and crashing metal followed after it, along with shouting and screaming and wailing as the injured and the terrified looked for a means to escape.
Hoseok rushed for the door, moving on instinct before any reasoned thought had time to form itself in his brain. He needed to get up. He needed to get out. Everything screamed at him to run and flee and save himself from being trapped below.
The ship, normally large and steady on even the roughest seas, lurched and pitched forward sending Hoseok stumbling up stairs that tilted downward, then upward, moving randomly as the ship fought against the waves and the pull of the deep below.
Smoke. Thick, black plumes of smoke smothered Hoseok’s lungs as he reached the top deck of the ship and he held the sleeve of his shirt to his mouth to try and block the worst of it. He couldn’t see anyone else in the haze in front of him, but he could hear shouting, disembodied voices that could have been next to him, or half a ship away.
There were no lifeboats, or at least there were none left by the time Hoseok reached the deck. He ran along the edge of the ship, looking for any sign of another boat, or even a life preserver. There was nothing. Another explosion rocketed behind him and the ship lurched forward.
Hoseok turned back and saw the ship was little more than a flaming wreck. He heard a low rumbling that suggested another explosion was imminent. Hoseok took a deep breath and turned back to the water. He pulled himself up on the railing.
Hoseok jumped.
The water crashed over Hoseok’s head and he kicked his legs, frantically trying to reach the surface. He felt only panic in the seconds it took for his head to reach the surface, the water tried to pull him down with the ship.
Hoseok gasped and sputtered and tried to blink the salty water out of his eyes. He shouted for someone to find him, to rescue him, but heard no replies.
Debris from the ship churned around Hoseok. Small pieces of timber, a few seat cushions, and the half-burnt corpse of a sailor floated past him. Hoseok retched as he caught sight of the sailor, retched again when he smelled the charred flesh of the man. He splashed away from the corpse, swimming aimlessly in his hurry to get away.
Hoseok’s hand hit against something hard and he cursed at the sudden pain running up his knuckles. The curse turned into a cry of joy when he realized what he’d touched. A long table, the same kind he at Namjoon had eaten at hours earlier, floated in front of him. It wasn’t a boat, but it looked big enough to support Hoseok’s weight.
Hoseok climbed onto the table, fighting against its slippery surface and carefully applying his weight so that it wouldn’t overturn. It wobbled unsteadily as he raised his hips up, but he threw himself forward and pinned it back onto the water before it could flip.
Hoseok rolled onto his back and stared up at the cloudless sky. He’s arms ached, his lungs were on fire and his throat burned and tasted of salt. He felt too weak to even raise his head and everything in him wanted to give up. He thought he would cry, later, but at that moment he didn’t have the energy.
Minutes—or maybe hours—later, splashing too loud and frantic to be waves roused Hoseok from his stupor. He tried to sit up, throwing his hands out to steady the table as his weight shifted against the waves.
“Hello? Is someone there?” Hoseok called out into the inking blackness surrounding him.
“I’m here. Help me, please!”
Hoseok startled at the voice. It was weak and desperate and he instantly recognized it as Namjoon’s.
“Over here,” Hoseok called. “Can you see me?”
“I-I think so. Please keep talking so I can come toward you.”
“Okay, I can do that,” Hoseok said, suddenly having no idea what to say next. “I’m right over here. I’m sure you’re close so just keep coming toward me. It’s you, isn’t it, Namjoon?”
“Hoseok?” Namjoon sounded closer.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Hoseok, I’m really tired. I’m not sure—
Namjoon’s words cut off with a gurgle and more splashing.
Hoseok slid back into the water without a second thought, swimming toward where he’d last heard Namjoon.
“Namjoon, hold on, I’m coming for you,” Hoseok said as he swam forward. “Don’t give up now.”
Hoseok heard a groan followed by a mess of coughing and he’d never felt more relieved in his life. He reached out and his hand closed around the back of Namjoon’s shirt. He pulled Namjoon close as he turned back toward the table that had become his raft.
Namjoon breathed heavily and did his best to swim along with Hoseok, kicking his feet even as Hoseok did most of the work to keep them afloat. Hoseok jerked them forward one last time before he reached out, grabbed Namjoon’s arms and lifted him against the edge of the table.
“Climb on,” Hoseok said as he tried to push Namjoon up.
Namjoon reached out his hand to Hoseok as soon as he got on the table and pulled him up to join him. The table bobbed dangerously with the added weight and Hoseok and Namjoon’s knees knocked against each other as they lay in the small space, but it supported their weight.
“Thank you,” Namjoon said after another bout of coughing. “I thought I was dead for sure.”
Hoseok nodded, too tired to respond immediately. Then he forced a smile and said, “You know I couldn’t let my only fan die.”
Namjoon laughed once, but both of their expressions turned grim as the horrors they’d seen flashed back in front of them.
“Do you know what happened?” Hoseok asked. “I heard an explosion and then everything was on fire and people were screaming.”
Namjoon swallowed thickly. “It wasn’t the engines. They wouldn’t do that. I know it.”
A weight sank in Hoseok’s throat. Namjoon had designed the ship. If it was some kind of mechanical failure, if it was Namjoon’s mistake that had cost all those lives…
“It could have been anything that caused it,” Hoseok said, having absolutely no idea what else might have exploded but praying Namjoon wouldn’t blame himself.
Namjoon bit his lip and stayed quiet for a time. Then he said, “It’ll be light soon. We should look out for a lifeboat or other survivors. We’ll have a better chance of being rescued if we stick together. Maybe we can find something to use as a paddle, too, so we can move this raft around a bit easier.”
Hoseok nodded, a bit envious of the way Namjoon was able to slip back into rationality so quickly. But when daylight came—the second sunrise he and Namjoon had watched together—they found nothing. No lifeboats, no survivors, not even driftwood or life preservers or anything from the ship floating around them.
The horizon was just as barren. No ships. No islands. No birds flying in the distance to lead them to safety. Nothing but waves and endless blue in every direction. Neither of them said anything, the despair that hung thickly between them was too close to spilling over.
“We must have gotten caught in a different current and pulled away from the others,” Namjoon said close to midday.
“Someone will find us,” Hoseok said. “Lots of ships go through this part of the ocean, right? One of them will spot us and rescue us.”
Namjoon grunted softly, though Hoseok wasn’t quite sure if it was in agreement or just an acknowledgement that he heard him. Hoseok turned his attention back to scanning the horizon, praying to see a smokestack rising in the distance.
The light grew dimmer, but neither of them gave up their vigil until it faded to blackness. Hoseok licked his chapped lips. As a child he’d been afraid of sea monsters. Sharks and Krackens and Lord knows what else lurking under the surface threatening to drag him under and devour him. Now they seemed a lot less scary than the sun and the salt dissolved like poison in the water.
“One of us should stay awake and keep a lookout. In case a ship comes by or something,” Namjoon said, voice dry and scratchy.
Hoseok glanced over the man lying beside him on the raft. Namjoon looked as exhausted as Hoseok felt, his eyes struggled to stay open and Hoseok knew the dehydration headache pounding behind his temples played a similar rhythm in Namjoon’s head.
“I’ll take the first watch,” Hoseok said, lightly tapping Namjoon’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” Namjoon said as he let his eyes slip shut. “Wake me up in a couple hours and I’ll take over for you.”
Hoseok grunted softly that he would.
Hoseok didn’t see any ships during his watch. The only light came from the stars and the half-moon hovering overhead. He watched Namjoon sleep, smiling at the peaceful look on the other man’s face. Namjoon was probably dreaming. Hoseok hoped it was a good dream; they deserved at least that much escape.
***
Namjoon awoke Hoseok just after dawn, shaking his shoulder until he heard Hoseok moan and start to lift his head.
“That’s something, right?” Namjoon asked, frantically pointing toward a rust colored dot on the horizon.
Hoseok sat up and wiped his eyes, groggy and head pounding in time with his heartbeat. He leaned forward and squinted at the spot Namjoon was pointing.
“That’s definitely something,” Hoseok murmured. “It doesn’t look big enough to be a ship or an island, though. More debris, maybe?”
“We need to check it out,” Namjoon said.
Hoseok hesitated and looked at Namjoon. “It’s a long ways off.”
“It’s the only thing we’ve found in two days. If there’s even a chance it’s a ship, or hell, even if it’s just something bigger to float on, I think it’s worth it. At least we’d be doing something.”
“Okay. Let’s do it,” Hoseok nodded with sudden resolve. They wouldn’t last much more than another day without drinking water anyway. Dying while trying to rescue themselves sounded a lot more appealing that waiting for thirst to take them both.
With only their hands as paddles, their progress was slow even with the current helping them along a bit. But gradually the object grew larger and larger though still stayed very low to the surface of the water. More puzzling, it appeared to be mostly metal, though it looked nothing like any ship Namjoon had ever seen. It floated flat against the water, perhaps only a foot or so above the waves except for one small tower that appeared to be about six feet tall with a ladder attached to it.
“I say we swim out to it,” Namjoon said as the angle of the current started to push them further away from the mysterious object. “It’s not sinking and it’s a hell of a lot bigger than this table. Maybe it’s some kind of platform or something. Maybe someone will come by to check on it.”
“Why would there be a platform in the middle of the ocean?” Hoseok asked with a frown. He didn’t like the feeling it gave off, but it was better than dying on a table, he supposed. “After you,” Hoseok said as he held out his hand to the ocean.
Namjoon grinned and slipped off the table and back into the water, Hoseok following a second behind him. Hoseok gave one last glimpse toward the raft before setting his gaze on the object and throwing the last of his energy toward reaching it.
Hoseok nearly drowned. The object was much bigger, and much further than he had guessed and the current worked against him as he swam. Namjoon saw him struggling and slowed down, waiting for Hoseok to reach him and swimming carefully beside him until they both, gasping, pulled themselves onto the metal monstrosity.
“See, isn’t this better?” Namjoon said as they both lay panting on the riveted steel. “We even have enough room to stand up and walk around.”
Hoseok laughed at the absurdity of it. He felt guilty, too. Guilty that he was so happy not to be alone, even if it meant Namjoon was condemned with him.
After another moment of lying around, Namjoon got unsteadily to his feet. “I’m going to see what the deal with this thing is,” he said as he walked toward the short tower in the center of the platform.
Namjoon climbed a couple steps up the ladder, then shouted excitedly, “There’s some kind of hatch on top here! There might be something inside.”
Hoseok sprung up from the ground and hurried up behind him. “Can you get it open?”
Namjoon grunted as he twisted the wheel at the top of the hatch. “It’s a little stuck but I think I can get it,” he said as the metal groaned in protest. “Ha. I told you,” he said as he hefted it open.
Namjoon peered into the space below. “There’s light down below. Maybe there’s someone, or at least some supplies inside.”
“It’s out of the sun and that’s good enough for me,” Hoseok said. As Namjoon stepped down into the hatch Hoseok begin climbing the tower to join him. When he reached the top, he looked down the hatch and saw a well-lit steel floor and a rounded corridor leading deeper into the vessel. He didn’t see Namjoon but assumed he’d gone down the corridor to explore.
Hoseok slid down the ladder to the hatch and his feet clinked against the floor below. He turned around, planning to follow Namjoon wherever he had gone. He didn’t have to go far.
Namjoon stood just inside the corridor holding his hands over his head while two well-built sailors pointed revolvers at his chest. In between the two sailors, another man, tall with a thick black beard and piercing blue eyes, smoked thoughtfully on a pipe.
Hoseok jumped back in surprise, raising his own hands to match Namjoon’s. “Don’t shoot us, please,” he said. “We don’t mean you any harm.”
The bearded man laughed and made a small gesture with his hand. The two sailors surrounding him darted forward and pushed Namjoon back into the room to stand next to Hoseok.
“I’m curious as to why you’d come aboard if you meant me no harm,” The bearded man said. “After all, at the very least you’d be stowaways and that’s hardly a harmless crime. So I guess you must be liars as well as thieves.”
“No, there’s been a misunderstanding,” Namjoon said. “We were shipwrecked and we saw your, your vessel, and we came aboard for help.”
Hoseok nodded. “We were on the Capernica. She sank almost two days back. We’ve been drifting since then. I’m Jung Hoseok, by the way.”
“Kim Namjoon.”
The bearded removed the pipe from his mouth and tapped it against the doorway as he stepped forward. “Shipwrecked, eh? That’s a tough break for you, but I don’t really see how that’s any of my problem.”
Hoseok and Namjoon exchanged a glance. “We don’t need much,” Namjoon said. “If you could just bring us to your next port we’d be more than happy to pay you for the expenses.”
“This isn’t a passenger ship and I have no use for your money,” The man spat the last word as though the thought of it offended him. “You’ll just have to find someone else, I’m afraid.”
Namjoon’s eyes widened in a mix of surprise and disbelief. “There’s no one else. We haven’t had food or water in days and yours is the only ship that we’ve come across. If you don’t help us we’ll die out there.”
“And again, I ask you, how it that my problem?” the man said, irritation rising in his voice. “I don’t know you. I owe you nothing. You have nothing of value to offer me. What happens to you is of no concern to me.”
“What the hell kind of answer is that, Mister—
“Captain! You’ll address me as Captain Nemo and nothing else,” the bearded man said as he leapt into Namjoon’s face. They were equally tall and both stared into each other’s eyes without backing down.
“What the hell kind of answer is that, Captain Nemo?” Namjoon repeated.
“My final one,” Nemo said through gritted teeth. “Get off my ship. Or if you’d prefer, my charity extends to offering you and your companion a bullet and a quick death instead of the sea.”
“What if we had something else to offer?” Hoseok stammered. Nemo turned to look at him and Hoseok shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “We could work on your crew.”
Nemo tilted his head. “Do you have any experience?” he asked doubtfully.
“I know a lot about engineering,” Namjoon said. “I design ships, actually.”
Nemo scoffed. “You don’t know the first thing about a vessel like my Nautilus. Your ‘experience’ is worth less than nothing.” He turned. “You, it’s your idea, so what do you have to offer?”
“Not much,” Hoseok said dejectedly. “I’ve honestly never sailed before.”
“He’s an artist,” Namjoon said quietly. “A good one.”
Nemo’s eyebrows raised and he stepped toward Hoseok. “An artist, you say? We’ve never had one of those on board before.”
Hoseok glanced at Nemo before looking back at the floor. His hands trembled as he held them above his head. “I’m a painter. Impressionist stuff mostly, but I can do realism as well. I’m a quick study, so I’m sure I could learn whatever you have to teach me.”
Nemo put the pipe back in his mouth and puffed on it. “I think an artist might be just the kind of thing we need here. There’s a great deal I want documented and someone with your skills could be invaluable.” Nemo held out his hand. “Welcome aboard, son.”
Hoseok lowered his hands from above his head and awkwardly shook Nemo’s. “Thank you, Captain, sir. We won’t let you down.”
“We? I offered you a place on my ship, not him.”
Hoseok’s brow knit in confusion. “But I thought—he frowned and crossed his arms. “If you won’t take Namjoon, I won’t join either.”
“It’s okay, Hoseok,” Namjoon said evenly as he tried to meet the more skittish man’s eyes. “I’ll go back out there. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even find a ship before you.” He tried to grin.
Hoseok shook his head. “If you’re going find a ship out there, I might as well find it with you. I’m sorry, Captain Nemo, but I can’t accept your offer alone.”
Nemo groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really do despise loyalty in anyone but my crew. It makes things so much more difficult.” He sighed and slowly circled one around Namjoon, looking him up and down. “You’re reasonably fit for an academic,” he said, tapping on Namjoon’s chest. “Your strength could be of use below decks, I suppose. There’s always lots of hauling and physical labor to be done.”
“I’ll do it,” Namjoon said with a nod.
“I expect you to work as hard as the rest of my crew,” Nemo continued. “I’m not going to give you any leeway for inexperience. You’ll earn your keep or you won’t remain here. Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
The captain gestured again and the two sailors who had stood guard stepped forward. “Take him below and show him the ropes. Let me know immediately if he causes any trouble.”
Namjoon and Hoseok shared a last look, both of them lost and terrified but trying to hide it for the sake of the other, before Namjoon was led away down the corridor. When he disappeared, Hoseok found himself alone with Nemo. His palms turned sweaty. Somehow his heart raced even faster than before.
Nemo was oblivious to his discomfort and clapped him on the back. “Come on, let me show you around. I think there’s a lot of things about the Nautilus that will surprise you,” he said with a grin. Hoseok nodded and smiled grimly, trying to shake the feeling that he felt more like a prisoner than a rescued man.