I read a book several years ago about a sailor who had to prove themselves by climbing the shrouds and the memory of that inspired this story. I basically did an internet search of ship diagrams, so if any experienced sailors out there find inaccuracies then I'm sorry. :p I uploaded this seperate from my other story Trifles because it is getting bogged down with Jim and Silver one-shots.

Characters (c) Disney, plot (c) The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle

"I'm telling ya for te last time, lad. No. Now stop yer bellyachin'", Silver growled, picking up a tuber from a nearby basket and expertly peeling the root. His pet Morph caught the spiraled skin and whirled it around like a ribbon. "An' keep workin' on t'em tubers."

Jim moaned irritably from his spot on the floor. "I'm bored", he snapped, "I wanna get out and do something! Why can't I go up in the shrouds like the others?"

"Ye haven't worked enough ta get up t'ere. For now ye'll stay 'ere where I can keep an eye on ya."

The young boy scowled down at the partially naked tuber in his hand and angrily attacked it with a peeler. He couldn't understand how two weeks of hard labor hadn't earned him the right to climb up into the shrouds, even once. "Just because you're too fat to get up there…"

"Wa'd ya say?" Silver barked in a tone that suggested he had heard Jim clearly.

"I said we're out of tubers." Jim purred sweetly as he finished his and casually tossed it up to the cyborg. Silver caught the tuber easily and a smirk crossed his face as he looked from Jim to the empty basket. "Well t'en, ye can walk off yer jitters by gettin' us some more from the hold. Double time!"

Jim sighed heavily and pulled the basket up as he stood. "And don' let me catch ya loafin' around." He called as the boy sullenly clambered his way up the steps.

The morning air was a refreshing change from the stale galley. As the wind tickled Jim's hair he was immediately reminded of his solar surfer back home; how he used to cut through the clouds and fall into the sky. It was a sensation that he desperately missed after having his feet on the deck for two weeks.

A sharp chirp interrupted his thoughts as Morph flew up from the galley. "Did Silver send you up to spy on me?" Jim teased as he caught the small creature and rubbed his belly.

"Spy! Spy! Spy!" Morph replied and rolled in Jim's hand. The boy laughed and stared longingly up at the tall masts and the crows nest sitting at the very top. What he wouldn't give…

"Jealoussss, cabin boy?"

Jim's smile dropped as a jagged shadow fell over him and Scroop's breath assaulted the back of his neck; he jumped forward and spun around to see the Manticore's bright eyes glaring down at him. "Or are ye ssscared of climbing up?"

Morph gurgled and crept behind Jim's shoulder but the boy didn't flinch away from the intimidating figure. "I'm not scared." He growled. "I've been higher than that before."

"Oh, it'sss not the climb ye sssshould be worried about." The young man brought himself up to his full height as the alien began to slowly circle him. "It'ssss the fall." Scroop hissed. "One misssstake and ye have over a hundred feet to think about it before…" The arachnid slammed one claw against the deck with a sharp thwack and it took every ounce of Jim's restraint not to jump.

"I guess that explains what happened to you." Jim shot, but the alien wasn't fazed by his sarcasm.

"Run yer mouth all ye want. But I'm not the only one to notice ye can't even make it to the lower sssssail."

Jim's anger boiled over and he spun to face Scroop. "I can!" He snarled.

His enemy's fanged mouth twisted into a thin smile and his bright yellow eyes narrowed down at him. "Prove it."

Despite Jim's earlier glorification of the shrouds they looked much more intimidating now that he was standing at the base, one hand griping the rat lines in anticipation. Scroop had led him there after his bold claim and had cleared the way for Jim's ascent; he now stood some feet away and watched coolly as the boy sized up the challenge. "Anytime." He hissed.

With a deep breath and a sharp glare Jim began. The lines were several inches apart and the boy had to stretch each limb to reach them as he crept up the ropes. Already Jim could feel a shift in the atmosphere; the wind was cooler and the air had a sweet tint to it. He breathed it in and grinned. Of course Scroop would not give a damn if he made it back to the ground, but the excitement gave Jim the adrenaline rush that he so desired. It was this adrenaline that drove Jim up several more feet – until the boy stopped dead in shock.

Like most ships, the Legacy had sets of shrouds. Instead of leading him to one that connected directly to the top of the main mast, Scroop had put the boy on a set that stopped at the lower sail. He would have to lean around the thick mast and make a wild reach over empty space to get to the next set!

Cursing himself, Jim braced himself against the mast with his left hand and leaned out for the nearest rat line. It was a good eight inches away.

'Dammit!' But he couldn't go back and start over. Scroop was still leering up at him and a small crowd consisting of the rest of the crew had joined him – any reluctance and they would see it as weakness. The boy bit his lip and without giving himself time to worry, fell forward.

His short fall abruptly ended as his hands shot out and grabbed anything he could reach. Jim's legs instinctively wrapped securely around the lines as he swung forward and his body slammed into the wall of rope. He could hear the laughter of the crew float up to him, but he didn't care. He could do this.

By the time Jim climbed his way to the upper topsail his arms were shaking with exhaustion; his fingers clammy and numb. He was not afraid but he was growing more and more exhausted with each step. Solar surfing required heavy use of his muscles; however, the body of the surfer provided him a solid platform on which to rest. In the shrouds there was no such luxury. The lines were constantly swaying and jerking under his movements, the wind that had felt so kind was now pushing against Jim as though it too were aligned with Scroop. Again, he had to leap for the rigging connected to the topgallant - he still had two sets to go!

After several minutes the young main finally reached the final set of shrouds, the one that would take him to the crows nest at the bottom of the main royal yard. Jim had never been more miserable in his life. His once sore arms were filled with burning fire and even his toned legs had lost their stability long ago. The palms of his hands were bleeding from the rough rope and his sweat made the cuts sting harshly. He was beginning to wish he had listened to the cyborg in the galley so far below him.

It felt like hours passed before Jim felt the reassuring feel of splintered lumber at his fingertips as he shakily pulled himself over the rim of the crows nest and slumped to the bottom. His breath came in short gasps and he momentarily allowed himself to forget that he had to now work his way down.

The boy lay in the shelter of the crows nest for an eternity before forcing himself to his feet. Although he could now take the shrouds that led directly to the deck as soon as his foot touched the rat line he knew that descending would be a hundred times more difficult than climbing. Moving up the shrouds he could see the placement of the rat lines and move accordingly, but now he was blind and had to either test each step or risk looking down. His stomach lurched at this last option and he quickly decided to go with the former.

Inch by inch Jim worked his way down the shrouds. His mind was hazy and his muscles more watery than the ocean as he passed sail after sail; his sole thought was on reaching the deck. It was no less than a miracle when he passed the lower topsail.

And it was here that he fell.

As Jim moved to lower himself the rat line supporting his feet suddenly shifted and the boy lurched as he slipped easily through the large hole. A hoarse cry escaped him and he twisted his body, desperately grabbing for the ropes. Once more he hit the shrouds face first as his weak hands grabbed a rat line five feet from where he had fell. Now the boy hung on the backside of the shrouds and the severity of his situation finally hit him like a brick. He was sore. He was exhausted and weak. It would have taken all of his strength to make it down to the deck normally and now he had to without the support of the shrouds and fighting gravity all the way. Jim moaned and wearily continued.

Each passing second was a nightmare. Jim's body was ready to shut down and if he made one more mistake with his footing it would be his last. Breaking his resolve the boy glanced down – he was only twelve feet away! But as he stared at the deck his vision swam and Jim knew that he was finished.

His hold on the rat lines weakened and for a split second the boy floated in air before gravity grabbed him and he fell to the deck below.

Jim's lungs were expelled in a single gasp as he landed, but he knew instantly that he had not hit the unforgiving deck. Confused, he opened his eyes and a deep, red light showered over him as John Silver held him in his outstretched arms.

"I told ya ye haven't worked enough ta climb te shrouds!" Silver lectured as he none too gently slapped down a bag of ice on each of Jim's arms. The boy hissed and writhed against the table but didn't complain; after what he had been through the once cramped galley was now a sanctuary. "Yer soggy muscles weren't near ready for t'at sort of work! If Morphy hadn't of scurried down 'ere and warned me - "

"I'm sorry." The teen repeated for the eighth time, laying his head between his arms. "I didn't know it was going to be such a pain, okay? I won't do it again." The words tasted bitter on his tongue.

The older man sighed as he sat next to Jim, rubbing his organic arm and the boy knew that catching him as Silver did must have hurt like Hell. "I don't like bein' cooped up down 'ere anymore than ya do, lad." He admitted. "Ye'll get up t'ere again before everyt'ing's done, but ye'll wait till I t'ink yer ready and not a second sooner."

The young man nodded obediently. "Alright. And thanks for…"

"Catchin' ya like a baby Mantabird?" Silver offered with a grin.

"That." Jim finished and the cyborg laughed and lightly patted his friend's aching shoulder.

"Now Jimbo, ye know I would never jus' let ya fall." Jim smiled at the reassuring words made even more wonderful because he knew that it was the truth. The bruise across his back in the shape of Silver's arm was proof of that. "Rest up fer now." Silver continued. "Cause come tonight ye'll 'ave a slew of chores ta do t'at will get yer muscles in the right shape for the shrouds. And ya can start by goin' and getting' t'em damn tubers!"