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Disillusioned with the American Healthcare System and burned out by over work and chronic pain, former emergency responder and current cruise ship medic Gabriel Henry isn't sure how much longer he can suffer through the motions of a career path that used to be his passion. When an unpleasant encounter with a passenger patient ends with him falling overboard during a storm, he's ready to give himself to fate. Waking up to see that he's washed up on the shore of an unfamiliar island doesn't improve his morale or motivation to keep living. Until he notices a stranger in much worse shape being washed up alongside him that is. With strange clothes and stranger behavioral quirks, his sheer determination to survive ignites something in Gabriel that compels him to throw everything he has into One Last Job getting him to safety.

After barely scraping through a haunting encounter with The Fish and the miserable consequences of his own actions, Cyrus doesn't expect to be greeted with help when he washes back up on the island he spent decades trying to escape. He doubly doesn't expect to be greeted with said help by a freshly arrived dolphinback. His pride rankles at the thought of charity, but he doesn't have much choice considering his injuries and the loss of his leg. He's also curious to learn more about this stranger with a warm smile, gentle touch, and cold dead eyes.

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Gabriel had barely begun to dream when the ring of the on-call pager startled him awake. A rowdy group of passengers had an argument in the bar on the main deck and several needed to be bandaged or stitched after bottles had been thrown in the resulting brawl. He was too tired to get dressed properly. He hadn't even bothered to detach the prosthetic portion of his left arm before falling into his bunk in the first place. Presently he opted to simply pull his uniform over top of his nightclothes, hoping the familiar comfort of soft cotton and tyrannosaur skull of his favorite book might soothe his mind and body through this interruption.

The halls pitched and rolled beneath his feet as he ran through them. When he reached the main deck and stepped outside he saw the storm causing it. Lightning flashed and rain poured and howling wind stirred the sea enough to toss even this enormous ship like a bath toy.

When he arrived on scene the trouble makers were still screaming and trying to swing at one another. Security staff stood between trying to separate them. One man had backed himself against the railing, blood dripping down his cheek as he raved and screamed at everyone present . Gabriel tried to soothe him enough to assess the severity of his wound to no avail . He swung at Gabriel who dodged but the turbulent swaying of the ship caused him to stumble forward, angering the man who swore and pushed him away with both hands. Gabriel tumbled backwards over the railing and fell into the sea. The impact knocked the air and consciousness out of him. After having been woken up it was a relief almost just to close his eyes.

He had no way of knowing how long he slept in the harsh arms of the sea that tossed and pushed him along, far far away from the cruise he'd worked on. The motion made him dream of sirens, screams, and pain. He was too tired to fight the sea or his own exhaustion . He dreamed of a sea serpent ascending through the water like a spiral staircase. Every step was a singular yet infinite stretch of time, as if all the Earth’s history were a ball rolling down them. He was dimly conscious of the current calming as he drifted out of the storm. Something smooth and warm pushed him along with more purpose than the water had. He slipped back out of consciousness and into peace.
Gabriel had barely begun to dream when the ring of the on-call pager startled him awake. A rowdy group of passengers had an argument in the bar on the main deck and several needed to be bandaged or stitched after bottles had been thrown in the resulting brawl. He was too tired to get dressed properly. He hadn't even bothered to detach the prosthetic portion of his left arm before falling into his bunk in the first place. Presently he opted to simply pull his uniform over top of his nightclothes, hoping the familiar comfort of soft cotton and tyrannosaur skull of his favorite book might soothe his mind and body through this interruption.

The halls pitched and rolled beneath his feet as he ran through them. When he reached the main deck and stepped outside he saw the storm causing it. Lightning flashed and rain poured and howling wind stirred the sea enough to toss even this enormous ship like a bath toy.

When he arrived on scene the trouble makers were still screaming and trying to swing at one another. Security staff stood between trying to separate them. One man had backed himself against the railing, blood dripping down his cheek as he raved and screamed at everyone present . Gabriel tried to soothe him enough to assess the severity of his wound to no avail . He swung. Gabriel did his best to dodge but the turbulent swaying of the ship caused him to stumble forward, angering the man who swore and pushed him away with both hands. Gabriel fell backwards over the railing and into the waves. The impact knocked the air and consciousness out of him, and after having been woken up it was almost a relief just to close his eyes.

He had no way of knowing how long he slept in the harsh arms of the sea that tossed and pushed him along, far far away from the cruise he'd worked on. The motion made him dream of sirens, screams, and pain. He was too tired to fight the sea or his own exhaustion . He dreamed of a sea serpent ascending through the water like a spiral staircase. Every step was a singular yet infinite stretch of time, as if all the Earth’s history were a ball rolling down them. He was dimly conscious of the current calming as he drifted out of the storm. Something pushed him along with more purpose than the water had. He slipped back out of consciousness and into peace.

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He awoke on damp sand under the hot sun of noon. Pain radiated throughout his body, but it felt far away. Relaxing in the sun on the beach was what many people assumed he did regularly as a cruise medic, but the reality was that most of his time was spent running up and down claustrophobic crew hallways well below deck at irregular hours. A stolen moment to just lay down with no responsibility felt good even if a small part of his brain urged that this was an emergency. The world was spinning when he cracked one eye open. The fall and the violent waves must have left him concussed as well as battered. He could get up and look for help. He could build a signal fire and keep watch for planes. He could build a shelter and relive his childhood games of pretending to be Robinson Crusoe battling the odds to survive the hostile wilds of an unfamiliar island. His injuries were fairly superficial and he knew he could power through them if he wanted to. He still had his pack of medical and emergency supplies, the security strap fastened across his chest. If he could get up and sustain himself until rescue he could go back to work like nothing had even happened. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to will himself back to sleep, content to never move again.

His reverie was interrupted by an ear piercing scream and a wet flop. Gabriel bolted upright, startled by the sound. Further up the beach was another figure that had been washed ashore. It was an older man in rough shape. Blood was seeping through one sleeve of his drenched linen shirt. He was trying unsuccessfully to stand up with the help of a bent cane. Below one knee hung the sharp, splintered remnants of what must've been a prosthetic at one point. He fell heavily backwards and cursed, flinging the cane away and crossing his arms in frustration.

Seeing someone in worse shape than himself brought Gabriel back to action. It was so much easier to move through the routine of someone else's emergency. He stumbled over to assess his new patient. His bedside manner customer service voice left his mouth without any conscious effort on his part.
“Hey buddy, you look like you've been run through the wringer. I'm a paramedic and can help if you let me take a look.”

The man looked up at him with startled alarm before shaking it off with a forced affect of a pleasant smile.
“Hello friend! I..” he glanced over Gabriel curiously “I seem to have gotten myself into trouble. A hand would be greatly appreciated if you don't terribly mind offering one.”

The shift in his demeanor and behavior was so sudden it made Gabriel smile and took all his self control not to laugh. He was used to people lashing out in fear and frustration when he showed up to help them. Dealing with people gracefully during the worst moments of their lives was just part of the job. He was not used to them doing a complete 180 in an apparent attempt to ingratiate themselves to him.

“Yeah it's no trouble, let's see here.” He kneeled down to examine the man more closely. One of his eyes was ringed with a dark purple bruise. The other was red from a burst blood vessel. Small shards of glass and metal were sticking out of his face and arms. Blood was dripping from his broken nose and the wound on his arm. Clearly he’d been trying to protect his head from some kind of violent collision and been mostly successful. His sandy brown hair was streaked with gray and matted with blood and salt. He was dressed like he'd taken a very wrong turn from a Renaissance Faire to the bottom of the ocean. Gabriel took his first aid and suture kits out of his bag. The first task at hand was to stop the bleeding from that gash. “I'm just going to roll up your sleeve now, so let me know if you feel any sudden sharp pain.”

The wound was jagged and deep enough to show a sickly glimpse of yellow. Recovery might be painful but wouldn't be life threatening so long as infection could be avoided. The other man looked ill at the sight. Gabriel flushed the wound out with saline and decided that without access to proper anesthetic distraction would be his best bet.

“So, come here often?” he asked as the needle bit for the first stitch. The baffled expression he received told him his ruse was working.

“Apparently. More often than I’d prefer.”

“Fascinating, can you tell me where here is then?” Another stitch.

“Dinotopia” Another stitch.

“Terrible Place, huh? Well isn't that cheerful.” The wound was only needed a few more sutures, but the other man’s eyes were starting to glaze over in pain, an abrupt subject change was necessary then. “Do you have a favorite dinosaur?”

“What? No, I certainly do not.” He looked as if Gabriel had just poured hot soup in his lap, but he was alert yet occupied enough to resume stitching.

“Not even with a gun to your head?” That earned him a baffled snort.

“Fascinating turn of phrase.”

“Sometimes you gotta raise the stakes a little.”

“Maybe one of those hard headed fellows then, if you're going to be holding a gun to my head for it.”

“Ah pachycephalosaurus, a classic! I love a spinosaurus. In particular I love asset 87 from Jurassic Park 3. Have you ever seen that one?”

“Uh no. Can’t say I have.”

“I have it on my tablet, maybe we can watch it together when we get to a hospital later.”

“I can't think of a reason to say no, I suppose.” The last stitch bit and Gabriel covered everything with a few layers of gauze.
“Great! There you go, all patched up.” He smiled. “Now, if you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate it if you could direct me where we can go get some help. Since you're familiar with the area.”

“Just follow the river. But I'm not sure how ‘we’ can go anywhere to get anything considering I can't walk.”

“I'll carry you if you let me” The offer seemed to unsettle him.

“Bit of a burden to put on a stranger, don't you think?” Patients often found certain kinds of help too personal or too embarrassing. It was one thing to stand-pivot someone to rest on a gurney, it was another to offer to carry them for god knows how long to god knows where. He would have to be careful to keep it clinical enough to not feel like a slight.

“Don't even worry about it. Don't think of me as a stranger. If it helps, don't even think of me as a person at all. Think of me as a machine made out of meat and bones.”

“I’ll see what I can do about that. Cyrus Crabb by the way. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He held out his hand.

“Gabriel Henry. The pleasure is all mine.” He shook it

Gabriel attempted to pull Cyrus into a fireman’s carry. Unfortunately, the sudden movement was too much for the other man and caused him to heave and nearly vomit.

“Sorry about that, let's try this instead.” He switched to a koala carry. It was more of a slight to Cyrus's dignity and personal space, but would be much more comfortable with the nausea and dizziness of head trauma. “This way you’ll have a better view to keep watch behind us anyway.”

“That might be necessary with the route we’re taking” He looked uncomfortable, but determined to bear what he had to.

The river disappeared into the foliage of a jungle with no hint of civilization in sight. Cyrus wasn’t exceptionally heavy, but carrying him and a full pack meant this would be a long and exhaustive effort. Gabriel took a deep breath and started walking.

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This was a very bad and precarious situation. Cyrus knew he had been lucky but that did nothing to cheer him. The fish had spared him, had spoken to him inside his mind. If it was to be believed there was no way off the island. No escape at all outside of some condescending notion that he'd better appreciate being trapped once he eked out some way to be happy.

It was miraculous that he met another dolphinback willing to help him after he'd squandered his favor with the last two, but being so reliant on a stranger was dangerous. If his luck held out until they reached Waterfall City he might stand some chance to regain his footing. He still had one sunstone secreted away in his pocket. It could be used as a bargaining chip with the mayor who had almost certainly been informed of Cyrus’s plans by Marion. He could spin a tragic tale about being the only one to survive the submarine crash. In the meantime he would have to focus on not giving his new traveling companion any reason to drop him for the tyrannosaurs and walk off.

The man was odd, unsettling even to a certain degree. He didn't ask enough questions. Most new arrivals spent their time questioning and pestering everyone around them in a desperate attempt to understand where they were and what happened to them. Gabriel seemed to have no interest in asking anything except as the means to the end of distracting him. He’d kept his face to a pleasant smile, but when tending to Cyrus's wound his gaze had felt sharp enough to pierce through to his soul. Afterwards though it had turned blank and glazed, as if the man were somewhere far away from himself. Perhaps he was shell shocked like the soldier who'd arrived in the forties had been. He'd introduced himself as a medic, but he might well be a military man first. He was wearing some kind of uniform and a single strange gauntlet that hissed when he moved. Perhaps he'd had more armor before enduring the throes of whatever ship wreck had brought him here.

His behavior was what was most unsettling. Even the most sickening of Dinotopian saccharinity wouldn't motivate most people to haul a stranger for God knows how long for nothing and no questions asked. He had to want something. Finding out exactly what was an urgent but delicate task under the circumstances. Other than the sunstone Cyrus had nothing to steal and very little to offer aside from directions and knowledge of the local wildlife. He would have to maintain his feigned charm and pleasantry as well as possible.

That felt easier in theory though with the painful grit of humiliation crawling through him. Being forced by circumstance to accept help was bad enough. Having another man carrying him like this, armored arm around his back while the other supported him from beneath, made him feel halfway between a child and a maiden in distress. To keep from feeling as though he might fall he had to hold tight with both arms around Gabriel's neck and both thighs around his waist. He was agonizingly aware of how compromising it would look to an outside eye. He wanted to lash out in an attempt to save his dignity.

Even worse was that he knew he had very little dignity to save. The last time someone had intentionally touched him had been when Karl clasped his shoulder in thanks for the pirates chart and well wishes. The last time someone had touched his skin beyond a handshake was to tend to his mangled leg. The worst humiliation lay in just how pleasant it felt to be held. Gabriel was warm and strong and smelled like the familiar comforts of salt and tobacco. It reminded him of the good memories of his father. After nearly dying after watching twenty years of work and planning go to hell in under an hour, it was far too tempting to relax and lean into the small pleasures available to him.

The adrenaline of unexpected survival wore off as the steady rhythm of step after step of their journey continued. Cyrus closed his eyes and let his mind fade. As he drifted into a light sleep, he felt an armored hand soothe across his spine and the rumble of quiet humming against his chest.