They were stranded on a desert island, put ashore by the mutinous crew and left to die.
The captain fell into dispair on the second day, and on the third, the bosun awoke alone, and found the pistol missing.
He rushed to the beach and wrestled the gun away from him, but it went off, striking the captain in the meat of his thigh. The bosun bandaged the wound as best he could, and dragged the captain back to their makeshift camp.
They were going to survive, the bosun promised himself. They both were. Not for revenge, but for love.

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