**English version of the WATTYS 2019 WINNER story**
1672, Caribbean Sea.
He lost everything for her. She risked everything for him.
But maybe love is not enough to bridge over so many deep differences between them, and the only way for them is goodb...
Seeing the night was closing and Marina still lingered at the maintop, Bones grabbed Morris' dinner and went to the cabin to take the post. And Morris' eye sparkled at the sight of another feast of soup and fruit.
Bones helped him to eat, explaining to him that after those weeks having only water and the fruit Marina shredded into his mouth while he slept, his body needed to get ready for heavier food.
"If we rush, dysentery would feel like a joke. And you don't want the pearl up to her chest in your crap, right?"
Morris smiled. Bones knew how to make him follow his instructions.
"You'll feel starving over the next days. It'll be news and it'll distract you from the pain. We'll stick to fruit, which is light and gives you energy. And we'll slowly make your soup thicker, until you're able to keep a soft stew without a cramp."
"How long?" asked Morris.
"A week, maybe two. It'll depend on your guts' response." Bones gave him the last of the fruit and stood up. "I'll go grab the pearl."
"No... Castillano..."
"You'd rather have me calling Maxó back?" Bones saw Morris' face and laughed. "Thought so. Let me take this to the galley and get my rum."
Back to the cabin, the surgeon found Morris asleep, Dolores' letter and cross to his chest. He smiled and went up to the shelf to pick a book. Then he brought a candle closer and sat at the table to read.
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The combination of Bones' promising diagnose and Dolores' letter seemed to work a miracle in Morris' condition. And Castillano's arrival breathed new life to the Phantom and Marina alike. Alonso wasn't happy with the crew trade, but they were only two days off of Port Royal. After leaving the Jamaicans there, he was able to head back to Tortuga with his small crew and the good news.
A month later, the Cartage moored near the Phantom just off a beach in the Great Cayman. And when he boarded the legendary ship, he found Morris on deck.
Marina had bought a cozy couch for him in Curaçao. Maxó and De Neill had moved him from the bed to the seat, and with Castillano's and Bones' help, they'd taken it out of the cabin and on deck. Before that, Marina had shaved him neatly and combed and clubbed his fair hair. She'd dressed him with a new shirt and had covered the legs in their boards with a light linen sheet. Castillano had added to his garments with an elegant leather patch to cover his missing eye.
The crew had caught several turtles on the beach, and that noon Pierre excelled with an exquisite lunch for everybody. Marina had a spare sail set like an awning over her friend, and they put up a board table by him.
Alonso was just in time to take the last available stool at the improvised table, and he noticed the mood had improved so much since he'd last seen them, that he didn't care sitting by Maxó, who flapped his elbows to eat like an eaglet learning to fly.
