@frank-hauptman wants to map the jungle from the water’s side and Tamyra accompanies him. They talk about attunements, the jungle changes and then some shit happens. Frank’s drowning trauma comes to the surface.
"So what are we looking for exactly?" Tamyra asked once the boat was well into the ocean, now just slowly drifting along the jungle shoreline. It was a struggle to find the boat that was stationed by the Western Cove just in case somebody wanted to fish there instead of going all the way back to the other beaches, but they managed it and now they were out in the water, one eye of Tamyra constantly on Frank to make sure he would not actually fall into the water. "Hidden monsters behind the trees, more ghosts, or something completely different?"
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Frank doesn't bother bringing a map with him. What use is it with the sea spraying on their faces? Only a few minutes in, bobbing on the waves, and his shirt grows damp and his shoes wet. “I haven’t checked the shoreline since summer time, I’m trying to keep an eye on how the water is impacting the beaches. Boring, yes, but useful in the long run.” Strictly speaking, he doesn’t need to do today; it’s January, and the rain proves more hindrance than help. “I certainly hope all the ghosts are gone, but warn me if you spot one? I’m checking whether the terrain is changing any. Does the whole island change, or just the jungle, I wonder?”
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Tamyra was glad Frank said that it was boring, at least she didn't have to say it herself. She was more careful with these stuff these days, still a bit worried about their peace, but it also felt nice to just sit in the boat and spend some quiet time, away from everyone. She can just focus on looking for anything out of the ordinary while Frank focused on the rock stuff. "I hope I won't see any, I had enough of them already, but will do. Did you ever see visible changes in the island before on one of these trips?" She leaned against the edge of the boat, splashing the water with her fingers are she watched the trees. "Did you ever try to feel the changes with your powers? Or would this distance and the water make it impossible to do so?"
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Frank scans the beaches, a thoughtful look on his face. "Once I saw a chunk of a cliff missing. You can see it... that way, I believe?" South of the Leander, towards the cliffs jutting out in the distance to mark the western side of the island. "I hope you don't see a ghost either. The island doesn't have a psychiatrist still, I assume," he comments dryly. It's hard to tell if the waves protest the joke about their mistress or the woman herself does, but a strong wave hits the boat, sending them rocking and spraying him with water. Frank pushes his hair away from his face, snorting. "Ah, I haven't tried. It feels numb though, maybe it is too far?" He squints in the distance, trying to tug on a strand of his attunement, but a beat later sighs. "Nothing. At least we know you'll be the one carrying the team whenever we get off this island."
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Tamyra followed Frank's direction, but to her it all looked the same. She could recognize changes in the jag because she spent a lot of time roaming it while she was alone, but these parts of the island? Parts of a cliff missing? That was way past the type of stuff she paid attention to, still she diligently nodded along to Frank's description as if she recognized it instantly. She let out a snort at his joke, rolling her eyes, that turned into a laugh when just at the right time there's a bigger wave that spays him. "Even the water doesn't think that was funny, that's something," she teased him gently. She remained quiet while he tried to connect to the earth and feel any of his powers, hoping it would work in this distance at least, but alas, maybe Frank and all the earth attuned needed actual earth beneath their feet. "Is it weird? Not feeling that connection anymore? Does it scare you?" She couldn't imagine not feeling the water around herself anymore, even if just unconsciously, in the back of her mind.
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Frank swipes a hand through the water, splashing her in silent retort to her laughter, a smile playing around his lips. "You mean that wasn't planned?" he asks with a laugh, leaning back in the boat as another wave knocks against it. If he topples into the water, it's over for him unless Tamyra can pull a rescue from her bikini. He doesn't doubt her - just doubts even she can bend the sea to her whims. He considers her question, frowning, dragging a hand down his face as he thinks about the feeling. "Not scary, but definitely weird. It's like I've got a head cold actually, like when everything feels stuffy and unusual," he explains after a lengthy pause, dragging his gaze from her to the horizon.
And blinks, staring at the gulf they'd found themselves in with the cove on side and the southern beach on the other. "The current is strong today, we'll have to be careful. I don't remember us being this close to the cove," he admits, peering over the edge of the water and into the sandy depths below. Shallow, so they must be along the reef still. "Have you been out this far before?"
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Tamyra just grinned at Frank, flicking a bit of the water back in his direction and then leaving her hand in the water. The waves were harsher now and she had to grab onto the side of the boat when one bad one hit them, but they were fine - it a was a weird doality, her fingers in the water enjoying the way the water moved around her hands, while her head knew that if things got worse, they'd have to turn around because she didn't want to fish Frank out of the ocean. "Head cold..." she mused. "It sounds strange. It even feels strange to think about it. Not feeling the water anymore. Wonder if it would be like that for good if we got out of here." A head cold for the rest of her life was not the best prospect, but she'd be out of here at least.
She could see Frank's expression changing and something happening, and when she looked back up over to the jungle, she realized they shifted so far off from where they originally were and that got her to sit up properly. "We definitely weren't this close, yet. Want to to try to navigate us back towards the jungle line?" She shook her head at his question, "Not really, this isn't the direction I usually move towards. Not--" but she couldn't finish her sentence because another hard wave crashed against them, rocking the boat even harder and Tamyra automatically reached over and grabbed Frank's arm to make sure he wouldn't fall off. "We need to be careful-- you need to be careful."
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"Is that not how it feels to you?" Once Frank reaches solid ground, the strangeness is usually gone. "I hope this isn't a permanent feeling. I can't imagine not having it and yet I've lived longer without it." It's best, perhaps, if they find a way out of here before it becomes more second nature. If it's too late for him, for Josephine then. He dips an oar - more thick stick carved into a rudimentary paddle - into the water to change their direction. "I can try," he says, dubious, and to answer his question, the sea gives an awful lurch. Her hand on his arm is the only thing keeping his thoughts from shifting to something else. Something more like a sail boat in the Boston harbor. "I will. I will," he says, more firmly, a hand moving to grip the sides of the boat.
The oar hangs over the water, waiting for the jostling waves to halt before he resumes attempting to steer them. "It really doesn't want us--" A forceful wave hits the little boat. Water splashes over the sides, and against his face. Another hits. The little boat spins from the force, and the oar flies from his hands, disappearing in the turbulent waters. For an awful second, he can't see, the water in his eyes and whipping against his face. The little boat rocks, near tipping with each wave.
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"I never really felt completely cut off from water," Tamyra admitted. "The ocean is so vast and always seems close in some way, while other times just beckoning me when I'm not near it. And if I'm really far away, I usually take several bottles of water with me to make sure I don't get dehydrated, so even then some bit of water is with me, you know?" Feeling completely cut off from it? The thought suddenly scared her to death. Not that it was an option, at least not right now while they were sitting in a tiny boat surrounded by the ocean.
The ocean that was relentless and tossing them around as if they were just rag dolls. Tamyra kept holding onto Frank with one hand and the side of the boat with another, even though it felt to matter less and less. In a split second decision, Tamyra let go of the side of the boat and pushed her hand back into the water and focused hard, trying to calm the water around them at least, just enough that they could keep afloat and not tip over. "Can you row like this? I can try to keep the water at bay, but I can't push the boat to the shore just with my water magic."
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Frank holds onto the side of the boat, grimacing, as the oceans tries to heave them up and over. If it's a response to their chatter about it, he doesn't understand the motive. "The sea clearly wants us to be a little more in awe of it than we are," he says, shifting carefully in the boat and dipping the remaining oar in the water, sliding through the water in one direction and then lift to do it into the other. "I got this, just..." Hold tight, he wants to say, but there's no more room for her to hold onto the boat than there is for him. With less effort into thinking and more into rowing, their little boat rocks its way to the shore. The current fights them along the way, pushing them further and further in the other direction. It's a futile fight. "We need to go with the current, I can't get us back to shore. Where's it pushing us? What can we turn into, preferably without smashing the boat and ourselves?"
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"This is more than just the ocean's response to us joking, Frank," Tamyra muttered as Frank started rowing. Either theycame out here at an extremely bad time, which was possible, or the ocean wanted to get them away from something, stop them from seeing something. Were they not supposed to see the landscape change? Or was it something else? She didn't really have time to mull over these things, though, she had to focus all her energy onto the water and trying to control it even the slightest. The waves crashed relentlessly, though, and it felt like her magic was not able to do anything in this current. "I think it's pushing us towards that rock formation over there," she nodded towards a bunch of rocks towards the shore, but still very much in the deep water. "Doubt we'd want to let it get there." There was another rush of waves, this time pushing them heavy towards said rocks and tilting the boat more than any of the other waves before, and Tamyra cursed, "Shit, shit, shit! Alright, try maneuvering us to the shore instead of the rocks?"
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Frank swears quietly, digging his oar into the water in an effort to spin the boat towards the shore. Beneath their feet feels less like wood and more like a puddle. "We're almost--" The boat lurches, a wave crashing over the sides and sending them tipping. He gasps, sucking in a large breath, and hits the water with a smack. A sharp coldness pieces him. His lungs protest, and he scrambles to find the surface, unable to tell up from down. Frank surfaces once, waving a hand, struggling to stay afloat. "Tamyra!" It isn't like the last time he ended up in the water, doomed to die; this time, he can't stay afloat. Can't fight it. He sinks again, flailing for the boat or Tamyra or the oar. Anything.
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They were getting back already, if only they could just hold on a little while longer... but another wave hit them hard and then next thing Tamyra knew, the boat was tipping and they toppled over right into the water. As she fell, something from the corner of Tamyra's eyes flashed. She wasn't sure what it was, if it was just the play of the light or something more, but it came from the direction of the South Beach. She didn't have time to look back, though, or spend more time on it, because the water swallowed her up whole and she was sinking in the water, trying to get her bearing.
She needed a few moments to find her way up, up, up to the surface and for a moment she forgot that Frank was probably sinking faster than she ever would. It only hit her when she reached the surface and Frank wasn't anywhere. "Shit, shit, shit!" She dunked right back down, looking around desperately to find her friend before it was too late, before he sank too deep and she couldn't see him or his oxygen ran out.
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Frank can't find the surface. The water yanks him one way, and then shoves him the other. If he were home, he'd stop fighting and let himself float towards the surface. Here he sinks like a stone. If Oswald had it this way, he'd have sunk this way the first time, too.
He wonders how many times the water will drag him under and spit him out. The first time it asked for nothing, but taught him how to look at the world differently. The second had stolen his world. Would the third time ask for his life? No. No, it can't. Josephine, and Rose, and his world are back within reach. He struggles more, desperation and fear warring with the bone deep determination to see them again. Not just once, or twice, but for however long he'd be given.
His eyes snap open, even as the water burns his eyes, searching through the darkness for a sign. Up, down-- there, the light. Frank swims for it, struggling. He fears it's useful until he sees her. His hand shoots out, as if afraid she won't see him in the inky blackness, and catches her wrist. His lungs scream, and his vision is growing darker and darker, but they scramble for the surface. And when he breaks through the waves with a grasp, he can't think of anything other than the sweet relief of breathing, of the brief snatches of sunlight on his face. "I have..." he says between gasps of air, head shooting around in search of their boat, pushing sodden hair from his eyes with little luck. "... never been happier to see you in my life."
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It felt like the moments were dragging on and Tamyra was wondering just how much time she had left, how much time before Frank ran out of time and oxygen and would start losing his consciousness and fuck, it was so hard to see anything under the water and if she missed Frank, if soemhow she couldn't see him...
there he was. The moment she spot him, she felt herself ten times lighter. But she didn't have time to rest, she needed to get to him before she sank way too deep.
She had better chances under the water thanks to her attunement, she could last longer, but by the time she got to Frank, she could tell that he was struggling really bad and the moment she got to Rose flashed in front of Tamyra's eyes, so close to passing out in the body of the plane all those months ago, in that fateful day. She didn't have a stake in that rescue, she just didn't want to flat out leave Rose behind, but she had so much more riding on this.
Tamyra grabbed him and pulled him up as strongly as she could and swam with them - up, up, up, as fast as she could. Her lungs started to burn when they broke the surface, too, relief finally taking over. "Fuck, you're too heavy," were her first words to him and then a relieved laugh burst out of her. "Please don't fucking do that again. We need to get to the shore before you start sinking again. Just grab onto me, hmm?"
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Laughter bubbles up, even as Frank coughs. His eyes sting; not from tears, though any longer in the water and he might succumb to that, too. He wipes his face, futile as it is while they bob in the water. "Is the boat gone?" He can't see it, but then, he refuses to look away from the distant shore. His head twists, and he grimaces as he spots it, heading further and further from them without someone to guide it. "We can't chase it, it's already going beyond the reef. If it doesn't crash, it'll..."
A wave smacking against his face interrupts him, but he doesn't need to finish. She knows how angry the sea becomes it they drift to far from the island. Frank nods to the shore instead, and tries not to be the anchor holding Tamyra back as they make an attempt to head for solid land. He strains to find his attunement, wishing it were as simple as dragging the ground to meet him, but it feels far away. Further than when he was in the boat. Panic, he assumes, still curling in his stomach and waiting for a chance. The closer they get to shore, the less panicked he feels. It's only when he starts to feel the first flicker of his attunement that he heaves a heavy sigh. "My attunement is working again, we must be near solid ground."
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"Yeah, I don't really give a shit about the boat, Frank, the longer you're in the water, the more chances are of you sinking again, which is the last thing either of us want. So no boat hunting, leave it," Tamyra said, holding onto his shoulder and arm, trying to keep him upright. Thankfully, the boat drifted away enough for them to even have a chance of going after it and both of them start swimming towards the shore.
Tamyra normally would have stayed underwater to avoid the waves, but she didn't want to leave Frank to fight it alone, so she fought against it, too. The water was relentless and hard and exhausting, and when Frank finally said he could feel his attunement again, Tamyra breathed out a sigh of relief and pushed on until she could feelt he ground under them. "We're good, we're good, we can walk now." She practically fled the last bits of the beach and then collapsed onto the shallowest bit of water at the edge of the shore to soak some energy back into her body. "Are you alright?"
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Frank knows they'll make another boat, but he still can't help looking over his shoulder for the one drifting further and further away. Weeks of effort, and little to show for it. As Tamyra guides them to shore, he thinks longingly of the time where sailing for a few moments bore no such risks. But he pushes these thoughts away as they reach solid ground, and instead helps Tamyra up, as she helped him, until they can collapse on the beach with a sigh of relief. "I'm..." And is he okay? Frank runs a hand through his hair, at once weary, his hands shaking as he does. Under the weight of her gaze, he opts for honesty. "It's been a long time since I've thought I was going to die that way. I don't know if I'm okay, but I am alive. This time. I've probably pushed my luck with this. Three times is more luck than most others have in a lifetime."
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He was alive. That was something. It was everything, really, in this state. Tamyra couldn't even imagine what it felt like for him. She arrived through a plane crash, it was impossible to relive the trauma - the closest she got was the plane crash, but even there she pushed the pain aside and focused on trying to get out instead of the memories. But for Frank who drowned to get here (and so many others), it was a real possibility, and fuck, he got too close to it again. She ungracefully crawled closer to him and gently nudged him. "Do you want to talk about it? I'm here to listen."
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Cool sand is better than a cold sea. Frank rolls onto his back, everything aching. But there's little relief to having something solid beneath him; the tides tug it away as it does the water. He frowns as she nudges him, head tilting towards her. "I..." And what could he say? Fear is mingled with relief, anger with happiness. And a terrible sadness stronger than the sea itself.
"Did I ever tell you how I got here?" He asks instead, closing his eyes, chin tilting for any flicker of sunlight through the grey clouds. "It was Fourth of July. Never celebrated it much; I grew up in England and moved to Boston later. But that year, we wanted to celebrate. For Josephine, and what was going to be her history. And then my brother tried to kill me."
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Tamyra pushed herself up into a sitting position and watched Frank as he battled with himself on whether or not he wanted to talk. "Boating accident, drowning," she replied at his question. She never really thought more of it. Frank didn't talk about it, but that was alright, she didn't really talk about her crash either (unless it was to complain about Mallory, but that had completely different connotations), and they were okay just talking about their lives before the island and what they wanted once they got out of here. So when Frank said his brother wanted to kill him, Tamyra needed a moment to take it all in. "What the fuck?! He did what? Why would he do that? What happened, Frank?"
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Frank sighs at her question; he's asked himself some of the same things. "I didn't get the chance to ask him, and I didn't think it was something he was capable of doing until he did. Money, I assume. My father is a rich man with pull. Regardless of how little we see eye to eye, I was still his heir." Without his brother here to ask, he has no answers. Maybe someday, when his brother is old, grey, and riddled with regrets, he'll tell someone. They'll have an answer, even if Frank will not. His nose wrinkles. He doesn't intend to say more, but this small leak in the dam proves stronger than his resolve. "We were sailing. I remember a blow to my head, and I remember hitting the water. The rest is... a blur." Head injury, or his memory protecting him, Frank doesn't question it. "If the island didn't pull me in, I'd have died. Drowned, eaten, I don't know. Swimming skill or not, no one is equipped to stay afloat in the middle of nowhere. I'm just grateful Rose and Josephine weren't there. Maybe he wouldn't have done it with them there, or maybe they would be someone else for him to hurt. But now you know."
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Tamyra listened to Frank retelling the story, trying to make sense of at least as much as he could of what happened and it was horrifying to hear. She knew what people were able to do for money, she's seen some very nasty things in her days, but to Frank... he was good, he was kind and so not the type to fuck anyone over for money. His brother could have probably asked and he would have made anything work. "What an asshole. I am so sorry, Frank." She crawled closer to Frank and wrapped one arm around the man, pulling him close into a hug.
He kept talking, explaining the actual attack and the afterward and Tamyra just let him talk. Once he was done, she pulled back, looking into his eyes. "For once the fucking island did something good. You never should have been attacked, but at least you're still here. And you're with your family again, and with some time, we will figure out a way to get back to the world. I promise, we will make it happen."
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Saying it without looking at her is easier, but Frank knows the feeling won't last. His mouth is dry, as much from the salt still burning his throat as it is the ache of memories. Her hug startles him, gaze flashing to her and then back to the sky, continuing to talk. As he does, he leans into the touch, because despite the horrible things he's seen, and the horrible things to occur, he agrees with her. If the island did anything good in it's long existence, it's bringing him rather than leaving him to die.
"I believe you," he says quietly. "I just hope we're going to make it back in whole pieces, or a little bit like the person we were before."
But the longer he's here, the more he thinks they won't. It's a worry for another day, though. "But thank you." And he sighs, tapping her hand, a silent thank for everything unspoken.
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I just hope we're going to make it back in whole pieces, or a little bit like the person we were before. That single sentence alone scared Tamyra more than so many other things on this island. How they would arrive back home, what they would have to sacrifice to get the hell out of here. "We will figure it out," she said instead of voicing her fear, though. Because she was clutching onto hope that it would be alright. Because that hope was the only thing keeping them together.
"Once you're ready, we should head back to the North Beach," she changed the subject. "Hugging Jo after something like this sounds like a good way to feel better, right?" she suggested, knowing that for Frank, that was probably the best thing that could possibly happen after a scare like this.
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Frank catches the tone of her voice. He's come to think she's never more certain than when she's most afraid. This feels like one of those times. He feels the same, and he pats her hand in solidarity. Let one fear be echoed and pointedly ignored, it's how they've always done it.
"Good idea," he says quietly, taking a deep breath and forcing himself up. Facing your own mortality has a way of leaving him weary, but there's too much to do for them to sit around. "Let's go back. I think we could use a break from the sea." He turns, holding a hand to help her up. "Best we don't tell anyone about this latest failure. I don't think anyone will trust us with boat building if they know we lost this one," he admits, a rueful smile on his lips.
It takes him a moment to find a more familiar stretch of land, but Frank points out a small grove of trees with a sigh. "Bit of a walk back." It's the thought of Jo driving him onwards, as it always is. Physically here or not, she's the north guiding him home, and it's this thought that makes the first step easy, and next step fast, and the last one before he sees Josephine a small victory. He'll take those where he can get them.