GHOST TOWN

Author: Lady Anaranë
Rating: R
Pairing: You/Jack
Categories: Romance, Suspense, Drama, Action/Adventure

Disclaimer: I do not own “Pirates of the Caribbean” or the character Jack Sparrow.

Summary: You have no recollection of being a highly wanted criminal or infamous pirate companion to Captain Jack Sparrow, but then again, you have not much recollection of anything these days. Your memory is suspiciously lost, giving every enemy of yours and Jack’s the chance of a lifetime; revenge.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 1 - Into The Shadows

They were on your tail now. You could hear them quickly approaching, the shouting soldiers and the pounding of horse shoes. They were going to catch you any moment now and take you away in irons. They will hang you by morning. You could see it before your eyes, the way the crowd would clap and cheer, so proud of their act of redemption; executing the criminals. And that’s the part that bothered you most: you weren’t a criminal. The very thought of someone being proud of your pale and lifeless body, the noose around your neck and the swinging of your legs nearly made you keel over and vomit.

You hadn’t seen it because of the black sky, but you felt it as your heel caught in the groove between two stones on the paved ground, throwing you foreword. The pounding was getting dangerously closer; and that’s when you felt fingers wrap around your arm and pull you into the shadows.

Your instincts told you to yell out, to fight against the intruder. When you began to thrash away from them, they held you closer, tighter. A rough palm flew to your lips and pressed down, not trying to suffocate but to keep you from being heard. “Shh,” they told you, the voice deep and rough. A man.

You went still. He was not hurting you but holding you close, hiding you from prying eyes and strangely protecting you. You listened as the soldiers went by, their eyes searching and the horses running. Somehow, they had not seen you hiding in the black of the night.

After a long moment, the man released you. “What have you gotten yourself into now?” He asked in a worried but slightly amused tone.

“Excuse me?” you replied, completely baffled. Had he just saved your life? It had seemed so, but you could not think of a reason why a stranger would do such a thing. Was he looking for a reward?

He stepped forward, to which you stepped back. This went on for a long moment, until you were illuminated by the moonlight and you could see his face clearly. He was most handsome, with rugged features and passionate eyes. The blue coat and tri-cornered hat he wore were slightly weathered, but the familiar sight of his strange look and searching gaze was what troubled you most.

“What do you want?” you demanded from him. You were so tired. “I don’t have any money.”

His brown eyes narrowed at you sharply. “I don’t want your money.”

You were shaking, you were so frightened and beat. “Then what do you want? I have nothing to offer you.”

The man looked truly and completely confused. “So the rumors are true, then. You do not remember a thing.”

Something in your stomach sank and burned from his words. His eyes were so damn familiar. “Do I know you?”

“Apparently not,” the man replied. “But I sure as hell know you.”

The blood in your head was buzzing in your ears. “What is your name?”

“Sparrow,” he complied. “Jack Sparrow. Captain of the Black Pearl.”

The Black Pearl... suddenly, a bell rang between your ears. Did you truly know him? Did he somehow know that you were lost in this town, without any family or friends, without any memories? Was he taking advantage of your situation?

He gave you a look. “What do you remember?”

You were reluctant to respond. “Yesterday.”

“And before that?”

It took you a moment, but you managed to whisper quietly: “Not much of anything.”

Captain Jack Sparrow nodded, somewhat sadly. He had feared this. The rumors were spreading, like the Wanted! signs with your name and face, how his lass and companion had gone missing and somehow returned with no memory, no recall of her name or face. She was helpless. And this sent every enemy of yours and Jack’s into a frenzy; revenge would be easy for them now. He came as soon as he could get to you.

“It wasn’t easy to track you down, darling, I’ll give you that.” Captain Sparrow said to you, looking you over with concerned eyes. Your skirts were torn from your fall on the stones only a few feet away and there was a large cut across your temple, a look in your blue eyes of fear and your usual golden skin a milky white. He swallowed thickly; you were a mess.

He tried stepping closer to you once again, but you were having none of it. He sighed unhappily as you backed away, nearly falling over a broken crate. He caught you before you had the chance to fall, but let go of you as soon as your shoes were steadily on the ground. If he wanted to help you, he would have to gain your trust, it would seem.

“What happened, pet?”

Something about that handsome face told you to tell him the truth. It was like a force you could not control, this yearning to tell him everything and allow him to take you away; to fix you. “He came after me. I didn’t even see him... he came out of nowhere.”

“Someone attacked you?” Jack asked with a creased brow. It would seem this pirate is honestly concerned for your well being.

You nod, still on edge. You were watching every word you spoke to him. “I’d never seen him before.”

He thought about this for a moment. “He tried to kill you?”

“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” you decided. He was asking too many questions, and honestly, it was making you nervous. What did he want from you?

Jack Sparrow was in absolute awe. You honestly didn’t remember him. This wasn’t an act or a joke, a ploy to get back at him for your last encounter. Four months ago, the last time he’d seen you [you looked so different now] the two of you had fought endlessly throughout the night [he can’t even remember why] and you stormed out. The next morning, you were gone. He hadn’t seen you since. But now... now you were right in front of him, and he couldn’t even hold you. He couldn’t make right of his wrongs or kiss your lips. It was driving him up a wall.

Then he said your name, almost as a request, and your eyes snapped up. There was something in the way he said it, with such prayer and craving, that made your heart twist in your chest. Something about this man was so wrong and right at the very same time. You didn’t know what to do.

“Get away from me,” you told him quietly.

His brow creased in frustration. “Darling...”

“Stop,” you said, holding out your hand in demonstration as he came closer.

“Where are you going to go?” Jack demanded. “They’ll find you, lass. They’ll find you and lock you up, and you’ll have no way out. They’ll hang you before noon. Do you want that?”

He was making everything so much more complicated. You just wanted to go home [where is home?] and rest. You needed it, for you were about to collapse. And Jack knew this. He could see it with the way your graceful limbs moved, the way the bruises on your skin glowed in the moonlight.

As he reached for you once last time, a small pistol was revealed from beneath your cloak. “Stay away,” you told him once more, aiming at his frame.

Needless to say, the captain of the Black Pearl gave up. Or so you thought. He followed you in the shadows as you lurked along the edge of town, leading him to a small tavern he knew quite well: B Contre-courant [against the tide].

He watched through the crowd as you climbed the stairs. He followed, watching from the edge of the banister as you approached the last room in the hall. You knocked swiftly, waiting nervously and wringing your hands. You always were impatient. Then, after a long moment, the door opened. Jack couldn’t see the person letting you inside from his angle on the stairwell, but he did see a muscular arm reach out and touch your hand as he pulled you inside.

Instantly, a flood of jealousy washed over him. Another man was in your life? Jack’s jaw hardened, his fingers curling into fists. Should he blame you? After all, you had no recollection of the past or of him. And this made him even angrier. How was he going to fix this?

Well first, he was going to take care of that bastard in the room with you. Jack descended back down the stairs, making his way down toward the barkeep. Thoroughly pissed off, he demanded, “Name of the man staying in the twelfth room upstairs.”

It was most definitely not a question, the man behind the bar noted. But he was under strict orders... “I apologize sir, I cannot-”

Suddenly, his feet were off the ground, the infamous pirate’s hands holding him up by his collar and his eyes a fiery black. “His name,” Jack Sparrow growled.

“Kail McGrath,” the man squeaked. He was known easily to crack under pressure.

Captain Sparrow was so shocked by this information that he dropped the barkeep completely, the man falling with a mad thump to the floor. Kail McGrath? No, this had to be a mistake. You despised Kail McGrath! And most importantly, Jack did as well!

And then, suddenly it all made perfect sense. You didn’t remember. You had no memory of McGrath putting two bullets in your lovers chest or the scars he left on your body. You were abed for two weeks after the ambush Kail and his men had wreaked upon the Black Pearl. He had nearly beaten you to death [it was a good fight until the end. Kail was just as bloody and worn down as you], and left you a crimson dormant heap upon the deck of Jack’s ship; it was a warning sign, McGrath had said. It was just all part of the game.

Revenge, Jack considered. Maybe that is what this is all about; McGrath was using you to get back at him. And it was working. It suspiciously appeared that you were sleeping with the enemy.

* * * * *

Despite your longings, you did not tell Kail about meeting Captain Jack Sparrow in the alley. He knew about your chase from the soldiers, knew about the fight and the man who had jumped you from out of nowhere. He had heard the word and the gossip from downstairs, but had not been surprised when you showed at his door. You had a lucky streak running throughout your veins. Somehow, you always escaped.

You were quiet, your eyes a bit wide with uncertain fear. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Kail grinned, and there was no trace of sleep in his eyes. You found it strange that it was the middle of the night and yet he had not laid down for rest. With a slight wrinkle to your brow, you glanced over at the bed. The covers were not even turned down.

“I expected as much,” Kail replied, and looked your bruised and weary form over with a curious eye. “What happened this time?”

“This time?” you repeated, no doubt confused. “Is it normal for this to happen?”

“For you to come home with random scrapes and bruises? Yes,” he told you, signaling for you to take a seat at the edge of the bed. You complied, and watched with bright blue eyes as he walked confidently over to the wash basin, a white cloth in hand. “You are always getting yourself into some type of trouble.”

The few minutes you had spent in that alley with Jack Sparrow quickly flashed in your head. He had questioned something simular; what trouble you had gotten yourself into this time. You frowned; why does it seem that everyone is assuming you are getting yourself into a mess?

“A man attacked me as I was walking past an alley by the docks,” you explained to him.

Suddenly, Kail froze. “Did I not tell you to stay away from the docks?”

You were a bit bewildered at his cold tone. “You did. But something drew me there anyway; a memory. Well, it was close, anyway. A keen sense of familiarity. That’s good, right?”

“Do not go back there,” he told you. “Do you hear me?”

He had told you many times to stay away from the docks, and yet with still no explanation. You did not understand; why does he want you to stay away from there? Did something happen there that he does not want you to know about? Perhaps he is fearful that you will remember something he only wants you to forget. Or maybe someone could recognize you?

“I hear you, but I still do not understand. Why are the docks so horrible?”

He sighed in frustration. “You and a certain captain who is known to dock his ship there do not get along. If he realizes you no longer have any memory... well, he could take advantage of his personal vendettas against you. Do you understand now?”

A bit timidly [it was so unlike you], you nodded. But yet, you still had more questions to ask. “What is his name?”

Your curiosity once again drifted back to the handsome man who had saved your life earlier that night. Could he be the captain Kail is spoke of? But if he disliked you, why would he have done such a thing? Wouldn’t he have enjoyed to see an enemy taken away and locked up, only to be executed the next morning? Or was he saving your fate to end himself?

Kail walked over, the cloth now soaked in water from the basin. He kneeled on the floor before you, brushing the auburn hair from your forehead. The cut there had left a trickle of dried blood across your white skin, but it did not look any worse than a simple scrape. “What?”

“The man’s name. The captain with the vendetta?” you replied.

Something briefly flashed across his dark eyes, but as soon as you noticed it, the spite and anger from his orbs were gone without a trace. “His name is best to remain unsaid.”

Kail leaned forward, gently dabbing the cut with the cloth. The blood cleaned quickly and stung unpleasantly, but you did not flinch nor move under his ministrations. Perhaps you were used to such aid?

“Like Macbeth?” you said with a small smile.

He raised an eyebrow. “Why is it that you remember books you’ve read and how to use a pistol, but yet you do not even know your own name?”

“I don’t know,” you answered quietly. “I just do.”

Kail was silent for a moment, and then tossed the cloth back into the wash basin. He was watching you intently, almost urgently. Those green eyes moved down from your eyes to your jaw, slowly following the pale skin until they reached your lips. You were known for your infamous beauty everywhere from gossip in the taverns to the books and stories told about the reckless adventures aboard the Black Pearl and for your love affair with that damned Jack Sparrow, he knew. Suddenly, that dangerous look returned to Kail’s eyes. You were that wretched man’s lass, and he had gone almost as far as killing you in spite of him. But now, he was going to elicit a fight to the end with the pirate a different way.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing almost harshly against yours. Caught off guard, you leaned back, your eyes narrowed in confusion and question. “What are you doing?” you asked him, your voice almost a whisper.

“Just close your eyes,” he told you. “It’s all right. Doesn’t this seem familiar to you?” He knew you were anything but virginal. You were the lover to a man who is known around the world for his various lusts and talents in these areas. Surely this didn’t feel unknown to you.

But, somehow, it did. His kiss did not feel right, did not feel as though you imagine it should. The moment his lips touched yours a wave of guilt and nausea washed over you. Did it always feel this way? Feeling extremely lost and somewhat at his will, you did as he told you. Your eyes fluttered closed and suddenly you felt very vulnerable. And this emotion did not wear well on you.

Kail’s lips kissed yours again before moving to your neck, his caresses cold and somewhat thoughtless. They did not feel intimate but unkind, almost sending your body into a wave of panic. It was enough feeling constantly lost and uncertain, but it was worse when you felt as though you had no control. You did not want to be here, did not want him touching you. And yet, you stayed. It was as though you were nailed to the floorboards, your body stiff as a corpse. You were helpless.

“Relax,” he whispered in your ear, and you felt his fingertips as they began untying the ribbons on the bodice of your dress. Then his mouth was on yours again, his tongue in your mouth and suddenly you felt so sick that your head was spinning, and all you wanted was to get out of there as quickly as possible.

You once again leaned away. “No. Stop, Kail.”

He almost laughed. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want. . . this doesn’t feel right. I can’t.”

Slowly, a grin pulled his mouth up. He looked almost happy that he has effected you this way. It disgusted you. “It will in a moment,” he tells you. “We haven’t even begun.”

You swallowed thickly as you felt the hot sting of tears raise from your throat to your eyes. “I thought I could trust you.”

“Who says you can’t?”

“Instinct is all I have right now. And my instincts are telling me this isn’t right.”

He reached for you again, but you quickly backed yourself towards the door. “Touch me and you will not make it out of this room alive.”

He laughed again and raised his palms in defense, grinning at your insecurities and yet constant confidence. He supposed nothing would change. You can’t even remember his face or his name and yet you are still threatening him. And then he watched, part in spite and part in admiration, as you quickly fled from the room.

The moment you were outside of that blasted room, you broke out into sobs. You felt so insecure, so used and betrayed. You thought you had one person you could trust, one person that you could turn to in all these millions of miles of strangers. Now you really were alone. You leaned back against the wall, allowing your knees to go weak as you slid sobbing to the floor. Your hands covering your shameful face, you let yourself vent your frustration, your fear and your constant uncertainties into a blanket of warmth.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps. When you looked up under damp eyelashes, you saw that goddamned pirate captain standing before you, a somewhat shocked and unsure expression on his face.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave me the hell alone?” you demanded from him, your voice weak and breaking from your tears.

He kneeled down before you. “I’m not about to leave you alone like this.” Then, he touched your face with slow, gentle fingers, as though he was uncertain whether or not you would allow him to do so. You froze and tensed instantly, although you did not fight against him. It was a simple touch, just a mere touch of his fingertips before the warm caress left instantly, leaving the heat of his skin to slowly fade on your flushed cheek. “What happened?” he asked gently. “Did he...”

You swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling most depleted. Your blue eyes closed on their own accord for a long moment, unsure what to do or what to say. “Prove to me that you know me,” you said before the words registered.

When you opened your eyes, Jack Sparrow looked anything but the spiteful and horrible man that Kail made him out to be. But it was the feeling of serenity and comfort that washed over your form that really scared you. When around Kail, you did not necessarily feel safe but desperate and unsure. Could Jack be telling you the truth?

“How am I to do such a thing when you know nothing of yourself to begin with?” he replied.

Good point. “That is for you to convince me,” you replied. Even if he was the enemy, part of you didn’t care. You wanted to trust and believe your instincts. You needed this security that he was silently offering you. You were so tried of being scared and alone.

“All right,” he said, and crouched down before you. “That tattoo on your back? Just below the right shoulder blade? I did that. You squirmed at first, but I eventually talked you into it. Pissed you off by not telling you what it was of. A sparrow,” he explained, and raised the sleeve on his right arm to reveal his own tattoo of the bird.

His eyes were looking at you so closely, so intimately, that you felt utterly naked under his gaze. You fidgeted in a nervous manner. “I didn’t realize I had a tattoo,” you confessed quietly.

He grinned. “Believe me, darling. It’s there.”

A sparrow? If he was telling you the truth, then that would mean these close feelings of familiarity and [desire?] intimacy have a large significance. This would mean that you are literally marked as his, his symbol permanently etched deep into your skin.

“Good enough?”

You fought the urge smile at his cocky expression and honest eyes. “Try again,” you told him. His lips twitched up into a little smile, and something inside your stomach fluttered. Butterflies.

“You were born in London, your father was a horrible drunk, you loathe the taste of stale whiskey, your favorite pair of knickers are red, and I gave you the first and only string of pearls you possess.” And then, to top it off, he leaned in close to your ear, his lips only centimeters from tasting your skin. “Shall I go on?”

You give him a warning look. “If you are lying to me, Sparrow, I will find out. And it won’t be pleasant when I do.” [Please be a good enough liar that I do not find a thing to turn against you with.]

He smiled again. “Trust me, love. I know.”

* * * * *

It was so tempting to take you at that moment. With your blue eyes shining at him and your cheeks damp with shedding tears. But Jack was sure to control himself, for it would be better for you in the end. He wasn't about to take advantage of you because of your current forgetful and obviously disheveled state. You meant more to him than that. And then, he heard footsteps from inside the room behind you.

"Come," he said to you, extending his hand.

You were hesitant, but after a moment you placed your palm in his and he quickly pulled you to your feet and with a hand innocently placed at the small of your back, lead you down the stairs and into the tavern.

It was a complete mess. People were talking most loudly and openly about the murder in the alley, the very alley you were in not a half hour ago. They paid no attention to you as you passed, but due to the crowd and enthusiastic storytelling, your exit was delayed longer than what Jack would have hoped.

"I saw it with my own eyes!" one man exclaimed, rising to his feet and extending his arm. "He was huge! Killed the man without a seconds thought."

"Why did he do it?" The woman next to him questioned, her brown eyes wide with curiosity and her painted lips parted.

"Heard the man stepped on the others foot," a sailor replies, nodding his head enthusiastically.

God, these people were sickening, you thought. Making up stories and such about the murder that you yourself committed in order to entertain themselves. What is wrong with them?

Then, a man from the other side of the room spoke up casually, his uniform pressed and brass buttons nearly sparkling in the candlelight. A soldier. "You all are fools. It wasn't even a man who committed the crime," he told them calmly, taking a sip from his brandy.

"A woman?" one of the barmaids suggested. "You must be mistaken, sir. I heard this was a brutal murder! The beating heart torn from the man's chest! What kind of woman could do that?"

Jack was feeling a bit restless. The soldier was eyeing the two of you closely as the both of you tried to push past to the door, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Surely he did not know who you were and what you had done. Did he?

"No," the man replied simply. "It was just a simple shot to the chest. And it -was- a woman; we chased her down the road until she mysteriously disappeared into the shadows."

"The Lady of Shadows," another piped up. "Did she resemble a crow? I always heard the Lady of Shadows resembled a crow. Real quick too, like a fox. Beautiful like a minx."

But the soldier shook his head. "No, she didn't resemble a crow. She was quick, that's for sure, with white skin and bright eyes. The most ravishing criminal I've ever seen," he said with a grin, his eyes still not moving from you. You looked everywhere but at him. The fear washed over your skin; you were shaking.

"Where do you think she is?"

"Maybe she fled to the docks!"

The redcoat was obviously having other thoughts. "Oh, I don't think she's gone too far."

Jack pulled you close to his side, wrapping an arm about your waist and spoke close to your ear. "Relax," he whispered. "The bastard doesn't know a thing."

And then, just as the door was in sight, a red uniform appeared before your eyes. "Stop there, miss."

You looked up, your eyes giving nothing away. But your shaking hands, they were what you were worried about. You quickly hid them beneath your cloak, slowly pulling them out of sight. Jack was right; this man didn't know a thing. The soldiers had not been close enough to see your face or touch your skin; they had no proof.

"Is there a problem?" Jack said in response. You were shocked. He was protecting you once again?

"You speak for her?" the soldier questioned.

The captain of the Black Pearl nodded. "Aye, I do."

"You her husband?"

"Aye," Jack responded once more. What was he up to? You were not wearing a ring, therefore, Jack was lying to the officer. Was he expecting you to play along?

"Is she armed?" the soldier asked, his penetrating eyes boring into yours.

"Why would she be armed? She has no enemies."

Those icy orbs turned to Jack. "Do -you-?"

You almost expected the pirate to reach out and grab him by the neck, bu alas, he did not. "What is the problem here?"

"There was a disturbance earlier. A man was shot and killed down by the docks. My men and I were close by and heard the shot. We chased a woman who was quickly fleeing the area. Dark hair, blue dress," the man's eyes traveled from your scuffed shoes and over your blue skirts, torn and slightly dirtied. It sure looked as though you had been in a brawl, that was for sure. And the cut on your right temple only made the matters worse.

Jack did not like the sight of his wandering eyes on your form. His jaw clenched tightly, but somehow he managed to keep his cool composure. "Nonsense, she has been with me all night, I assure you."

"Upstairs?" he asked. Jack nodded. "What were you doing?"

A sly grin grew on the pirate's face. "Would you really like me to say such things in the presence of ladies?" Jack was truly talented at this game, that was for sure.

The soldier seemed to be quickly running out of patience. "Where did you get that cut upon your forehead, miss?"

You took a nervous breath and were about to open your mouth and reply with a shaky lie when Jack beat you to the chase. "Fell off a horse during our travels here. Hasn't quite got the hang of side saddle yet."

"Why don't you let the lady speak for herself?" the man questions with a cocky raise of his eyebrow.

You swallow. "Tis true, sir. My balance is obviously not something to boast of."

"Is that so?"

You pulled your cloak closer to your skin. You felt so exposed under those accusing eyes and blaming voice as you nodded in response. "Yes, sir."

"You cannot accuse my wife of a crime which you have no proof she committed. I believe the law is innocent until proven guilty, am I right?" Jack complies.

The soldier looks anything but offended. "I am not accusing anyone of anything, mister. . ."

"Smith," Jack says instantly.

". . .Smith. I am just asking innocent questions. Tis my job, you see."

Jack, in return, does not look in the least bit intimidated. "Perhaps you should be finding the person whom murdered that poor bastard instead of interrogating an innocent woman," he suggested.

And then, Jack leads you out the door, leaving the soldier to stand in silence. He knows nothing, you reminded yourself. They will not arrest you if they have no proof. You will not hang before the sun comes up. In fact, you don't believe Jack would let you. And that thought gave you a little more confidence in the man walking beside you. If he didn't care, if he only wanted you dead, then why would be going through all the trouble in which is save your life?

"Why are you doing this?" you questioned him once you were a whiles way from the tavern.

"I told you, darling," Jack replied, "I'm not about to leave you alone like this."

Alone? Frightened? Clueless? You consider. Yes, that's how you've been feeling since you woke up in that alley weeks ago, absolutely no memory as to where you were or who you are. It was a week later when you ran into a man who claimed to be Kail McGrath, an old friend of yours. But now, you were not so sure he was a friend at all.

"Where are we going?"

"To an inn outside of town," he replied. You tensed at the thought. Was he expecting the same as Kail was? But then, he added, "You tired?"

Jack could see how exhausted you looked. He glanced at the way your posture relaxed a bit out of the corner of his eye, the way your lips parted to release an almost silent breath of air. Had you assumed he was taking you to the inn to do otherwise? Of course you had; and the pirate captain didn't blame you. After all, if you were -yourself- that's exactly what he'd be doing; making love to you until daybreak, until the very moment you would beg him to stop, until you were on the brink of insanity. Jack dug his fingers into his palms with the thought. It's what he very much wanted to do. But as he looked at your thin and spent form, he reminded himself that this would take some time. -You- would take some time. And was he willing to do so? Was he willing to wait for you? After all of the things the two of you have endured together?

* * * * *

Jack lead you inside the inn, holding the door open as you walked past him and inside. The walls were illuminated with the gold of several lit lanterns and candles about the room and the fire in the hearth only a few feet away. [You always did look like a mystery in the lamplight.]

As Jack approached the desk in the corner of the room, he frowned at the man who sat behind it, his bloodshot eyes watching you and a small grin on his face. “We need a room,” the pirate told him through gold teeth, a slight growl to his warning tone.

But the man paid no heed. “Of course you do,” he commented, still leering with suspicious interest at you. You folded your arms under your cloak, feeling strange and uncomfortable under that gaze. “Ain’t you a pretty little thing?” he said with a smile, his eyes moving from your auburn hair and over soft curves, across snow white skin and your torn skirts to your shoes. “Young, too. I know some sailors in these parts who’d paid handsomely for-”

Jack’s eyes were nearly black with snapping control as he reached over and grabbed the man by his collar, yanking him to his feet. “We need a room,” he repeated in a deep voice, his jaw clenched and patience no more.

“All right, all right,” the man said, nearly falling to the floor as Jack released the death grip on his shirt. He clamored around for a key. Once finding it, he handed it to the pirate and nearly backed away, holding his palms up in a wordless surrender. “Last room on the right.”

Jack reached back and touched your arm. “Come on,” he said, and walked just behind you as you began down one of the halls, his palm flat against your back. You were silent, and honestly, a bit shaken. You hadn’t expected to see him lash out at the man in such a way. He was being protective, as though you were his lass and he wouldn’t allow any man to think otherwise. Somehow, it made you feel most safe and secure.

Unlocking the door to the room, the door swung open calmly as you entered, breathing in the darkness and enveloping it like a blanket. You liked the dark for its mysterious nature, for the comfort it nearly promised, but yet you feared its monsters all the same.

“Do you think they are still looking for me?” you asked as Jack lit a candle by the window.

He looked over at your scratched face and frowned at the weary gleam to your blue irises. “No,” he lied. “They’ve most likely given up by now. You’re safe here, love, that I promise you.”

And that was a promise he could keep. He wouldn’t let anyone touch you, let alone harm a hair on that pretty head of yours as long as he could help it. He was determined to keep you safe.

Jack watched as you sat thoughtfully at the end of the bed, your hands shaking from the cold. “What happened?” he asked you of the man in the alley.

You didn’t look at him as you replied. It was all still a blur to you, and yet the guilt was eating you up inside, self defense of not. “He attacked me,” you explained. “I don’t know why he did it. But I. . . I shot him. I didn’t want to kill him, honestly, I didn’t,” you stopped, looking at your hands, and then raised your head to peer up at him from under thick lashes. “It was like my instincts just took over.”

Jack nodded. “You gotta do what you gotta do, darling. Any idea who he was?”

You shook your head, but reached into your cloak and pulled out a white kerchief from inside, holding it out to him. “No. But I found this.”

The captain of the Black Pearl took it with a confident hand. He gazed upon the white cotton, to which nothing seemed suspicious, until he saw the initials K M sewn on the corner most carefully in black thread. Kail McGrath. “This was his?” Jack asked as he glared at the item. His eyes were nearly black, and you couldn’t help but to wonder if this was what normally happened when he got upset, all though his face showed no signs of distress or emotion. It was just those russet eyes. And once they locked with yours, you couldn’t look away. It was like hypnotism.

“Yes,” you reply.

“He worked for Kail McGrath,” Jack spat out. “Did you know that?”

Jack knew of Kail? Somewhat confused as to why he seemed so angry at this bit of information, you supplied: “I had considered it, yes.”

Those eyes narrowed at you. “Considered?”

“Maybe the initials are just a coincidence. His name could be Kenneth McKinney or Kevin Mae for all we know,” you complied. But then, after a short moment, your curiosity got the better of you. “How do you know Kail?”

Jack did not look happy at the mention of his name. “We go way back. With the both of us, in fact. Which comes to my next question; why were you in his room tonight?”

You frown. “I didn’t know who else to turn to. I do not know many people, obviously.”

“You could have turned to me.”

“Who, the strange man I only met ten minutes earlier in an unfamiliar, dark alley?” you replied. “No thank you.”

He removed his coat from his shoulders, tossing it on a chair beside the window. “I saved your life, love,” he replied.

Jack noticed the way your blue eyes still lit up when you were angry. “It makes no difference,” you told him. “Why are you so defensive all of a sudden?”

“I’m just trying to understand why someone would turn to a man who tortured her and left her to die,” Jack snapped, his hands animated angrily as he spoke.

“What?”

Tortured? Could he be telling you the truth? Of course not, Kail would never do such a thing! Would he? After all, he was most suspicious at times. The night you met, you accidentally tripped as you were literally thrown out of a tavern [You had gotten yourself into quite a nasty brawl with a man who allowed his hands to do a lot more touching than you preferred] and slammed right into his chest. He cursed you at first, but then realizing that you were not just another pretty face, he suddenly became very friendly, asking you many questions. He explained that he was an old mate of yours and the two of you hadn’t seen each other in years; you had a lot of catching up to do.

Was this all a joke?

“I do not appreciate lying, Captain Sparrow.”

Jack took a seat beside you on the edge of the mattress. “I suppose he filled your head with nonsense, aye? Curled up close to you, convinced you he was your mate?” he shook his head at you. “The serpent has fruit to offer.”

“Kail is. . . he would never. . . he was there when I needed him to be.”

“Perhaps that it why you were weeping outside his door tonight, aye?” Jack replied knowingly.

Your defenses were completely falling and shattering around you like thin glass. “How do I know you are not the one lying through your teeth at this very moment?” you demanded from him. “You could be the serpent, the man filling my head with nonsense.”

Suddenly, Jack snapped. He grabbed you rigidly by the arms with rough hands, the calloused pads of his fingertips digging into your flesh. “Let me show you something, imp.”

Jack yanked you to your feet, practically dragging you over to the mirror, where he turned you around so your back was facing the mirror on the wall. The laces on the bodice of your dress were undone before you could blink, and his nimble fingers nearly ripped it off your torso as he tugged one side down, revealing a milky white shoulder blade to his view. You were writhing under his gaze and touch, frightened and wanting to squirm away from him as quickly as possible. “Look,” he told you.

Swallowing, you turned your head so you could gaze into the mirror. A small bird, a sparrow, was etched into your pale skin with careful lines of the most ebony of ink, revealing to you your true relationship with this pirate. So he -was- telling you the truth. [What do I do now?]

Jack reached out with rough fingers to trail the digits down the tattoo, causing a chill to roll unwelcomely down your spine. You stood still, still on guard, but it seemed everything crashed down around you as your eyes fluttered shut. The pirate leaned forward, pressing his lips gently to the ink, tracing the edges with his fingertips. Something warm and tense began to build in your stomach, to which you drew the line. You quickly stepped forward, jerking yourself out of his arms.

He watched as you begin lacing up the bodice of your dress, your back facing him. He could see how your shoulders were lifting with heavy breath, your small hands shaking. A sly grin pulled at Jack’s lips; you felt his advances, and what scared you most is that you found yourself wanting more.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, a bit breathless himself. God, the feel of your skin under his fingertips... your scent... it was driving him up a goddamned wall! You were so close, after all this time, and yet just as far away as ever.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” you told him, unable to turn around and look him in the eyes.

Jack shook his head. “There’s no need for that. I won’t bite,” in example, he held his palms up in surrender. “Won’t lay a finger on you, love, I swear it.”

Then, you turned to glance at him, and for a moment there he could swear you were -you- again, but as quickly as the thought came, it was gone. “Don’t be surprised if you wake up without what makes you a man, Captain Sparrow.”

His eyes instinctively narrowed at you. “Now, darling, there’s no need to be making such unbearable threats. Have you any reason not to trust me?”

‘No,’ you think. But then again, you don’t have any reason not to trust anyone.

* * * *

You were always so peaceful when you slept. So innocent, so chaste. As you laid sound asleep beside Jack on the bed in the inn, your skin as white as the sheets and your auburn hair framing your face, the pirate couldn’t help but lie beside you and bask in the sight.

Hesitantly, he reached out and brushed a lock of hair away from your eyes, watching as you slept on without realization. Jack was mesmerized by the slight wrinkle to your brow, as though you were in a deep thought or dreaming something discouraging. He touched the worry line with his fingertips, just beside that deep cut on your temple, gently tracing it as though it would make it disappear. And sure enough, a moment or so after that touch moved down to just barely graze your lower lip, all the signs of any discontent disappeared from your features.

“How could this have happened?” he whispered so quietly that the words barely left his lips.

You were lying close to him on your side, your cheek pressed against the back of your hand on the pillow, while the other arm was pressed against your side. You both were lying above the covers, a quilt covering your body, and Jack sitting thoughtfully with his back to the headboard, his feet crossed at the foot of the bed.

No, this wouldn’t do, he suddenly realized. He couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. He had to do -something-. And once again he told himself that he would start with that bastard enemy you abruptly seemed to call friend. He rose to fetch his coat and hat, his thoughts set on finding Kail McGrath and having a nice chat with him. Would they settle this once and for all?

Something roused you from a deep sleep.

You blinked a few times in the darkness before sitting up, running a hand through your long, dark hair. Jack was no longer beside you. Had he left you alone? Something within you snapped and suddenly you didn’t know what to do. It was strange; before you had wanted him to leave you alone and now the thought of being by yourself frightened you to the point of chills.

Then, something moved in the darkness. “Jack?” you called gently, sleepily.

The figure came to stand at the bed beside you, and as he leaned closer, you could see the beads in his hair and the gold to his teeth. “Right here, darling.” He was wearing his blue coat, hat, and boots.

“You’re leaving?” you questioned. It surprised the both of you to hear a sign of fear in your alto voice.

“I’ll be back soon,” he told you. “Ana Maria and Gibbs will be here until I return.”

You blinked. Should these names register? Should they be familiar in some way? Silence. Then, “Who?”

Jack smiled slightly; the action made you feel somewhat better, as though you had been forgiven for some gruesome sin. “Friends,” he told you. Then, he reached out and touched your cheek, his fingers rough and warm. You swallowed and your eyes fluttered shut; the action was so simple but yet so effective.

“I’ll be back soon.”

As he turned to leave, you suddenly reached out and grabbed his sleeve, halting his actions. You were frightened that he would not return. Then, realizing your actions, you quickly let him go. “Fine. I don’t care what you do.” [Please don’t go.]

Jack watched as you frowned and rolled over, lying on your side with your back to him. He understood the thoughts going through your head at this moment. “I will be back,” he told you quietly. “Cross me heart.” And then, he was gone.

* * * * *

You couldn’t fall back to sleep. You were frightened and frustrated and most confused. The soldiers were still out for your freedom, you knew, all though Jack tried to assure you that they were no longer worried about the man’s murder and they had given up last night. You knew he was just trying to make you feel better. And it had worked; for a little while, anyway.

Could you trust this pirate? Could you trust -anyone-? The tattoo of the sparrow did prove that you had some connection with Jack, but still you were reluctant. Or perhaps just paranoid, you considered. After all, you had trusted Kail and now look what has become of that situation. And what Jack had said about him torturing you and leaving you to die? Could this be true? Why would Jack lie to you about such a thing? If only you could remember!

You heard noise from outside the door. You laid still, forcing your breathing to even and closing your eyes as though you were still in your sweet slumber. Could this be the AnaMaria and Gibbs that Jack had mentioned? And what were they to do, watch you until he came back? Suddenly you felt like a small child, like you needed to be watched lest you would do something foolish. Or perhaps Jack feared that you would try to run off? This consideration made you feel most like a criminal. Your thoughts went back to the man in the alley earlier tonight. You had killed him, and now the redcoats were looking for you. You -were- a criminal. Or maybe Jack was actually protecting you?

The door opened, followed by the sound of unfamiliar voices. “Do you think she is asleep?” It was a woman. AnaMaria?

“Aye,” a man replied. This must be Gibbs. “Close the door behind yourself, will you?”

You heard it click in response. “She looks a mess,” AnaMaria said thoughtfully. “All bruised and whatnot.”

There was silence, and then Gibbs’ voice broke the thin glass reverie. “She must have put up a hell of a fight.”

“Obviously, or she would be dead. Captain Sparrow said the man worked for Kail McGrath. Do you think he knows about her situation or the attack was just a coincidence?”

The realization of rumpled clothing moving about sounded for a moment before coming to a stop. They had taken seats and were settling themselves in your room. “He knows,” Gibbs told her. “I guarantee it.”

AnaMaria gazed upon your slumbering form in the bed, your body lying above the covers. Your hair was darker than she remembered, your skin paler. The blue and purple marks that marred the left side of your face looked most painful and unpleasant. She frowned as she could have never imagined you looking like this previously; she didn’t -want- to see you looking so frail, so bruised and broken. You were her friend, after all.

“Jack’s feeling guilty,” she said suddenly. “I could see it in his eyes.”

“Aye,” Gibbs remarked. “He let her get away the first time, and now look what has become of her.”

Let you get away the first time? What first time, and if you and Jack were so close and so intimate as he had lead you to believe, then why would you -want- to get away from him? Was there more to yours and Jack’s relationship that he had not told you? Of course there was. After all, he knew everything and you knew nothing.

* * * *

Captain Jack Sparrow was not a pirate any man wanted to make an enemy.

“Are you mad?” Kail McGrath laughed. “I found her, just as you did.”

Suddenly, he found himself slammed into the wall behind him, a pain spreading quickly throughout his skull and the Caribbean’s most feared pirate standing before him. “You knew who she was. Explain to me your reasons for taking her in.”

Kail shrugged, a smug smile still pulling at his lips. “I wasn’t going to show her the knife again, if that’s what you’re thinking, Sparrow. I don’t use one torture method more than once.”

The muscles in Jack’s jaw twitched as he glared at the man before him. His patience was about to snap, but he hadn’t given up yet. “If you’re at fault for her sudden memory lapse, believe me when I say no one will even know you are gone.”

The bastard laughed once again. “Get off your high horse. I didn’t do a sodden thing to her memory. How would I even begin to do something like that?” he asked smartly. “I’m good, pirate, but I’m not -that- good.”

Jack Sparrow narrowed his eyes at him and reached up to snatch a kerchief from his coat pocket. “Look familiar?” he questioned, waving the white fabric before the man’s eyes.

“It’s a kerchief.”

“With your initials, none the less,” Jack explained. “I’m sure you heard about a man’s murder earlier this evening? This was in his possession.”

Kail did not look surprised. “What are you suggesting? That I killed him? Talk to your girl about that one, Sparrow. That conscience of hers is eating her up.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I know she killed him. The question is, why would you send someone after her when you could have killed her yourself? You had the chance.”

Suddenly, a rugged grin lifted Kail’s lips. “‘Twas a test,” he explained. “A test?” the pirate repeated.

But before he could get any response out of the man, the pounding of heavy hooves and shouting came from the window. Jack peered out through the glass, frowning to see a line of redcoats racing down the road. They were coming for you, he knew it. Something inside of him told him it was true.

“Better follow ‘em, Sparrow,” Kail said with a grin. “Got to save the damsel in distress. Not that it’ll do any good in the long run, mind you.”

Forgetting all about Kail McGrath and his inevitable hate towards the man, the Captain of the Black Pearl was out that window in second, sliding down the roof and jumping off the edge. He landed with a most graceful roll to his feet and was in full sprint in less than a minute. He had to get to you before the red coats did. If not, he wasn’t sure what he would do next.

* * * *

There was so much racket outside that it caused you to shoot up straight in the bed. It was the red coats, you knew. They had come for your freedom, and where was Jack? Hadn’t he told you that they were off your trail and everything would be all right? Apparently he was very wrong. Perhaps he was just being hopeful, you considered. Or maybe he was at fault for it all.

At the sound of your name, you looked over at the young woman standing by the door. She had dark skin and surprised eyes. “Are ye all right?”

You scrambled from the bed. “I have to go.”

“What? Go where?”

“Relax, lass. We won’t hurt ye,” a portly man came to stand beside you, one hand reaching out to touch your arm.

You instantly stepped away from him, looking at the two as though they were horribly mad. “The horses,” you insisted. “Don’t you hear them?”

Gibbs moved aside the curtains with a dirty hand and peered out the window with a frown. “What about them?”

“The redcoats,” you pressed. “Don’t let them in.”

The two watched in confusion and shock as you quickly slipped on your boots and rushed to the door. But as soon as your fingers flayed to the handle, heavy footsteps began pounding down the hall.

“Shit,” you snapped, and moved to the window. You were near panicking. But before you could make your escape, someone reached out to grasp your arm and simultaneously waste moments of the precious time you have left.

“We’re under strict orders here,” AnaMaria told you. “I cannot allow ye to leave.”

Before she could blink your pistol was cocked and between her eyes. “This is life or death, and I won’t allow you or Jack Sparrow to decide my fate.” And with that, you were between those curtains and out the window.

Gibbs pulled his flask from his vest pocket with a thoughtful movement. “Jack is going to have us flogged for this.”

AnaMaria sighed. “I suppose we’ll have to go after her, then.”

There was a pounding at the door. Frowning, Gibbs took a step forward and reluctantly pulled it open. A soldier in red immediately stepped forward, a most concentrated look on his young, clean shaven face and a dark curl hanging over one eye. “I’m looking for a woman,” he explained. “Blue dress, dark hair. She was with a man who paid for this room. Owner said he looked like one of them sailors that come in and out.”

Gibbs was not good with pressure. He opened his mouth, expecting to hear some unplanned gibberish in response, only for Anamaria to step forward and speak on their behalf. “The only sailors here are the two of us.”

Another man, the same accusing soldier from the tavern, pushed past them with dark, blazing eyes and chilled skin. “Search the room,” he ordered. He didn’t care about the two in the room; all he cared about was finding you.

Three more red coats entered, searching through closets and drawers and even lowering to their knees to peer under the bed. Nothing. They found absolutely nothing. “Officer Abram,” a man dropped his hands and gestured about the room with an annoyed glance. “There is no sign of her here.”

Fabian Abram, a most testy and impatient man, groaned and peered out the window into the street. The sun was just beginning to rise and already there were people walking about to their jobs and men at the docks. “I knew it was her the moment I saw her,” he said to himself. “I should have slapped her in irons when I had the chance.”

The men began filing out the door. The last nodded at the two members of the Back Pearl’s crew -not that he knew this information- and closed the door behind him to leave them with their thoughts.

Gibbs shook his head at the memory of you climbing through that window; he supposed some things would never change. “Always told Jack that lass was trouble. Bad luck, she is!”

AnaMaria began climbing out onto the roof. “Are you coming or not?”

He grumbled, taking one last swig of his drink before tucking it back close to his heart. “This has to be breaking the code in one way or another.”

* * * *

The sun was shining red and yellow in the sky as you pulled the hood of your cloak over your head, hoping no one would recognize you. You escaped from the inn without much fuss, but where did you go from here? Something in your head told you to find Jack [his scent was on your clothing and fresh on your senses] but what good would that do? For all you knew, he could have lead you straight into that trap on purpose.

“You must have fantastic luck,” a sudden voice called from behind you. “Most murderers are hung not a day after their crime is committed in this town. Are you surprised to see the sun rise?”

You whirled around to see none other than Kail McGrath following you, a confident grin set upon his handsome but untrusting face. “No,” you replied. “But I am surprised to see you.”

“Is that so?”

“Why after going through the trouble to kill me on more than one occasion would you befriend me the way you did?” you asked him. More than anything at this moment you wanted answers.

Kail did not look fazed. “He’s filling your head with nonsense, I see.”

You were tired of all the lies. “I know the man who attacked me worked for you, Kail. I’m no fool.”

“Aren’t you?” he responded in the thickest Irish accent. “You don’t know who to trust, or who anyone is, or where you are... you don’t even recognize your own name for Christ’s sake! You don’t have any idea when you’re being fooled, my dear.”

You narrowed blue sea eyes at him. “And the kerchief stuffed in the man’s pocket with your initials? How do you explain that, Kail?”

He shrugged, adoring that spark in your bright eyes when you became angry. He both loathed and lusted after you in the most intense of ways. “Pure coincidence.”

You swallowed any of the emotion that your body dared to show. “You’re a liar.”

The moment you turned on your heel and began to walk away, he reached out and pulled you back. “He’s lying to you, dove, can’t you see that? Why would I send someone to have you killed? I could have done it myself.”

“I don’t know,” you snapped in all honesty. “Why would you torture me and leave me to die?”

For a long moment, Kail McGrath was silent. “And you believe this nonsense? Can’t you see that Sparrow is playing you?”

You watched him carefully. “How do you know about Jack?”

A sly grin captured his lips. “Perhaps you should ask said pirate where he ventured off to last night.”

“It makes no difference,” you told him.

“Why is it that you believe his word over mine?”

You thought about this for a moment. Was it the tattoo? The familiarity? Or perhaps the fact that he seemed to know every little thing about you? The simple things that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else. It could be that spark of adrenaline every time his skin brushed yours or maybe the comfort you felt when with him. When alone with Kail you felt uncomfortable and [guilty?] damaged underneath that scrutinizing gaze. And that was enough for you to feel that something wasn’t right.

“Do I have any tattoos?” you asked him suddenly.

“What?”

You seemed so curious and innocent. “Do I have any tattoos?” you repeated.

“No,” he replied, “Save for the one on your back.”

“My back?”

Kail nodded. “Left shoulder blade.”

A smile lifted at your lips. The tattoo of the sparrow was just below your -right- shoulder blade, and as far as you can remember, Jack had mentioned this to you in the very beginning, as well as knew exactly where to show you last night in the inn. Why did you believe Jack’s word over Kail’s? Because Kail’s word never seemed to add up. But, of course, this didn’t mean you trusted Jack Sparrow completely either.

“Goodbye, Kail.”

As you turned around, you swore you saw something move in the shadows. You narrowed your eyes, hoping to see more in the darkness and ruble in the alley, but nothing was there.

“This town is nothing more than ghosts and deceit,” Kail McGrath warned, yelling after you. “You’ll be killed before you will discover why you are here. That I promise you.”

You never glanced behind you. “A Ghost Town. I’ll remember that.”

CHAPTERS 6-10

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