It was a storm unlike Archie had ever seen. 

He had spent his life tossed along the waves of the sea, feeling more at home on board the ship, his steps more confident on his sea legs than anywhere he could imagine on land. However, tonight, he found himself unsteady, having to use the sides of the walls and the railings to bring himself across the bow of the ship. 

He hadn’t commanded his own crew or his own ship yet, but here on this Team Rocket craft he’d made something of a name for himself, cozying up to the captain so he could learn all there was to know about manning a ship, the future ship that he’d spent all of his adolescence dreaming of. While most of all of the crew were instructed to wait it out in their bunks, Archie had gone to the quarterdeck to see how the captain handled the intensity of such a storm, the duties that came paired with the pressure. 

Although he spent more time with the captain than he had meant to, paying close attention through the long hours of the night, he felt like it was worth it. He’d learned so much new information. He was absorbed in his thoughts, exhausted from a hard day's work, feeling good about it. The clock struck 3am as he clung to the ship’s braided yellow ropes. They guided him along the dangerous walkways, his rubber boots crunching against the sprays of seafoam and bleached sea water that crashed over the sides of the ship and its deck.

The rays cast from the Ampharos at the top of the ship filtered across his muscular form as he expertly descended the levels of the ship, refusing to let his guard down until he was safely back in the warmth of the crew cabins. He took a moment to hold himself still before the stairs, slick with pools of water, dangerous when the ship was tossing and turning. 

Archie found his way to his room, looking forward to being rocked to sleep by the crashing waves. He unlocked the door, taking off his nylon jacket, shaking off the water best he could, hearing how the droplets pelted the tiled flooring.

His assigned roommate, Maxie, was twisted in a knot of agony in the bottom bunk, blankets pooled over himself. Of course.

“Too much for ya?” Archie laughed heartily, thinking that it served Maxie right after complaining about the length of their voyage so often.

Maxie groaned in his misery. It seemed too dramatic until Archie remembered he’d turned on the bright light of the cabin—it was a wonder how Voltorb could provide this much energy. Archie was kind enough to turn it back off, settling his jacket and then the rest of his overclothes on the smooth metal chair on his side of the room. It was bolted firmly to the floor. 

Maxie’s hands were on either side of his blankets so that just the tip of his face was peeking out. Maxie watched Archie as he moved through their room, beneath his furrowed brows.

Not too sick for curiosity , Archie thought. Usually, it was too difficult to get Maxie to be quiet for a moment. Even though he maintained the charade that he and Archie were rivals, getting into debates over unimportant subjects, it was clear Maxie loved nothing more than to chatter at Archie, to have him as his captive audience. 

Archie brushed his teeth, rubbing the sides of his cheeks where his stubble had started to grow back even after he’d so carefully shaved in the morning. Sometimes, his reflection startled him with how much it had begun to resemble a man. Tonight was one of those times, but it felt earned; he had gained knowledge today that a man ought to know, and his body reflected that.

He wouldn’t bother toweling himself down. He liked the water, the rain—he loved the sea and anything that came from it. He let himself strip down so he could pull on the dry clothes from his heavy navy backpack that was near bursting at the seams. The dry clothes felt nice in their softness, their worn fibers comforting against Archie’s rough skin. 

Maxie hadn’t stopped watching him, as though he wanted to ask him something or make a request. It seemed like the question itself required too much effort. Maxie was too deep in his queasiness to force it past his lips.

Archie tilted his head at him quizzically, trying to usher out a response, but it wouldn’t come. Maxie groaned as the ship lurched once more, his face a pale shade that almost looked green compared to the fierce red of his hair.

Before Archie could climb into his bunk, he’d noticed his blankets were missing. He swung back, using the metal bars of his bunk to help guide him so that he could examine the crime scene and the culprit. 

Indeed, Maxie had commandeered his blankets. Maxie didn’t look at all guilty despite being caught in the act.

“I’m gonna need those back.” Archie snorted as though the way Maxie acted was really hilarious.

“I’m sick.” Maxie had found a way to still tilt his nose up at Archie, to act like he was so much better even in his condition. “I need them more than you.”

Archie really laughed then. It warmed the entire room. He slapped his knee to try to contain it. “I never heard tell of someone needing all them blankets from being a touch seasick!”

“Well I do.” Maxie’s eyes watered and he titled his head away swiftly, like he was a princess. “It’s been dreadful.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Archie helped himself to the side of Maxie’s bed, sitting down at the corner. He knew that this negotiation would go on for some time. Maxie seemed pleased by this.

“Yes.” Maxie was silent for a moment, the ship sending them rolling down the bed until they both firmly hit the metal pole. He made a small moan as he tried to wrestle the impulse to empty his guts—he didn’t think it would be possible to anymore. “I told you. It’s dreadful, Archibald.”

Archie helped Maxie slide back into a better position. He felt how damp Maxie was, how severe his cold sweats had become. In his defense, they were out crossing one of the greater bays, with waters so deep the ship was helpless to crash and tumble like a boulder rushing down a mountain. 

“Why do you always insist on calling me that…?” Archie didn’t expect an answer. He reached for Maxie’s other arm. When Maxie let him do it, he then placed one of his large, rope burned hands onto Maxie’s forehead, checking his temperature. “You’re just seasick. You’re gonna be alright.”

“If I saw stationary rock, I really would just fall to my knees and plant a kiss upon it.” Maxie complained. “Whyever did I get dragged here? What business does Team Rocket have traversing the open sea? Catching Tentacruel? How unique.”

“Maxie.” Archie chuckled. “A ship’s for transporting goods and people. It’s point A to point B.”

“Hasn’t society advanced beyond such archaic measures?” Maxie pleaded, his hands quivering when they were sent back down the side of the bed. “Perhaps we could use any of the dozens of Pokémon capable of flight? They’re so much smarter, more reliable… and they don’t leave you feeling like you’ve been blended into a Pokéblock!”

Archie patted Maxie’s leg with affection before he sheepishly caught himself, hoping Maxie was too self absorbed to notice. “Well, maybe when we aren’t just dirty old grunts we can offer some different options. But them's the ropes.”

Maxie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose where his glasses usually sat. Archie had begun to feel sorry for him, hearing the way his shallow breath hardly seemed to reach the rest of his body, how he trembled like a leaf every time the ship descended. 

“Well.” Maxie spoke after a long moment of silence, not wanting Archie to have time to feel sorry for him. “You must sleep here tonight. I need your body heat or I may very well perish in this gloomy place.”

“Wha—?”

“You heard me.” Maxie shut his eyes tightly. “You may sleep on the inside, against that wall. You’re capable of keeping your feet planted firmly to the frame, correct? You’ll stop me from splashing to and fro like a Magikarp.”

Archie didn’t bother replying. He smiled, lifting up the blankets to help himself in and got himself curled behind Maxie. He pulled Maxie in close to his chest, humming softly, prepared to hold him steady until they reached calm waters.