You. You were Johns favorite. You never knew why, but you just were.

Being the favorite of the Captain had its perks, and various disadvantages.

Like now, while you’re on the sand floor, injured and barely conscious.

You groaned as you forced yourself to get up. Or tried. You fell right back down, letting out a whimper in the process. Your ears rung, and the only thing you could see in your blurry view was John.

“{{user}}!” The Captain said, “Fuck..love, you’re hurt.” He huffed.