CHAPTER 6 - An Inescapable Tune

The streets were frighteningly quiet. Even with the sun beginning to rise and the people walking by, they did not say a word, did not glance at you as you stayed out of their way and to the shadows. The wool cloak over your shoulders kept you sheltered from the early morning breeze and it’s hood kept you disguised from prying eyes. You looked down at the soiled hem of your dress and your scuffed shoes; where were you to go from here?

Then, as you turned back around to slink back into the alley, something made you freeze in your movements. There stood Jack Sparrow, leaning back against the wall and watching you with a wry smile. “You really shouldn’t be wandering off all by your onesies, darling,” he said.

You frowned. “If I had not, I would be locked in the prison at the moment.”

“Course not, darling,” he told you. “Gibbs and AnaMaria were there with you.”

You scoffed at this statement. “Yes, and what good they did,” you remarked.

Why had he asked them to come to the inn, to watch over you while he was away? They did not even lift a finger against those redcoats that were obviously hunting you. If you had not threatened AnaMaria with your pistol or climbed through that window in time, you would probably have your head in a noose right now. The thought alone gave you chills.

“It will not do you good to be insulting me crew, love,” Jack told you with a calm, steady voice.

His cool exterior and confident smiles were really starting to get on your nerves; you couldn’t understand how he could be so calm and act so jokingly when you can barely keep yourself from falling to his feet, weeping for release from it all. You were not sure how long you could last before breaking; it had been months before you had remembered a thing, and you were a very impatient person, to say the least. But who could blame you?

You ignored his comment. “Where did you go?”

“Had to pay a visit to a friend,” the pirate told you.

“You mean Kail,” you replied, not missing a beat.

Jack was somewhat surprised at your wit and strong-willed acquirements at this point, although he can’t ever remember you being an different. Which is exactly why it surprised him; little things you said or the tone in your voice made him look twice in your direction every once in a while. It was easy to forget that you weren’t the same person.

He nodded. “Aye.”

“But you and Kail are not very friendly,” you reminded him.

And then again, sometimes your innocent questions or accusations reminded him of your sudden absence in your own body more than he would like to admit. Nonetheless, the most naive sound in your voice made him smile like the devilish creature he believes himself to be.

“Just checking up on things,” Jack said. He reached out in order to press his palm to the small of your back and began leading you back down the alley you had just come from. “Now, love, we best be on our way.”

Your brow creased. “On our way where?”

“To the Pearl, of course!”

You dug your heels into the ground in order for the both of you to come to a complete stop. Jack turned to glance at you curiously, wondering what the problem was. “I’m not leaving on the Black Pearl with you, Captain Sparrow,” you told him firmly.

“Course you are!” Jack pressed. “What is left for you here, pet? Nothing but the gallows!”

You shook your head. “Everything is here. Kail told me I was in this town for a reason, and I refuse to step foot off this land until I find what that reason is.”

Jack’s hand was animated as he spoke, flailing this way and that in the crisp, smoky air. “He also mentioned that you’d be dead before you realized what that reason was,” he reminded you.

This response made you stiffen, on account there is no way Jack could know this information. Not unless... “You were spying on me!” you accused with a gasp.

The pirate smiled. “Only a little.”

You spun on your heel and began walking the opposite way, completely annoyed with him. He was spying on you? What sort of a man was he, anyway?

“Where are you running off to?” he questioned, following you.

“You are a wretch of a man, Jack Sparrow,” you accused him.

Said wretch wrapped an arm about your waist and quickly turned you so you were suddenly pressed up against the wall of the building, his hands pressed to the stone at either side of your head and his face close to yours. “Aye,” he breathed, that sly, side-ward smile lifting his lips as those dark eyes scanned from your shoes to your lips. “I’m a filthy, dangerous and utterly infuriating wretch. And that’s exactly why you like me.”

The feel of his chest -warm and toned as far as you could tell-, pressed against yours was causing a bit of a distraction. “That’s not true,” you were able to say.

His eyes were tracing along the delectable, soft, fair skin at the base of your throat. He had you just where he wanted you now, pressed up against him and helpless and hopeless as could be. And much to his surprise, you were not even struggling against him. Not that it would matter much if you did. One kiss and you would be a goner, he knew. It had worked the first time, hadn’t it?

Indeed, it had. He wasn’t sure if he remembered correctly, but his memories were all he had to rely on, considering he couldn’t exactly ask -you- to remind him of the first time his lips had met yours. But as far as memories serve, you had your hands tied behind your back with a rope from the brig of the Black Pearl [enough to drive him absolutely mad with sinful thoughts], and were attached quite tightly to one of four posts on the bed in the captain’s quarters. He honestly hadn’t had any provocative plans with you, but was instead protecting himself from your wrath. You had already torn three of his maps by chucking them at his head -thankfully missing- as well as a novel and a bottle of ink sitting on his desk, before he finally managed to grab a hold of you, pull your hands behind your back, and force you to calm down. The two of you would occasionally get into a brawl, starting with an argument and ending with an all out war.

He returned to the room an hour later, his gait stilling mid-step and his mocking hello silenced. There you were, tied to his bed with one sleeve of your dress slipped off your shoulder and your skirts pulled up to your knees from your efforts to untie yourself. Needless to say, your efforts were pointless. Jack can remember gazing along the exposed golden skin, the frustration in your eyes and the curl to your dark hair. He can remember the way your skin felt beneath his hands as he traced two calloused fingertips down your neck, your breath hitching in your throat and the quickening of your heartbeat.

“Are you frightened?” he had asked you.

You shook your head, unable to speak. You were anything but frightened at this point. His fingers felt good on your skin and his lips even better as he lowered his head to taste the skin of your throat. His hands traced delicate curves, his eyes on yours as he waited for the moment you would tell him to stop. The moment never came.

He cupped your cheek with his hand, his eyes on yours as he bent slightly to press his mouth gently to your bottom lip. When you did not say a word, he repeated the action, only this time the kiss was much more confident, the caress firmer. It was only a moment before you responded to such actions and the kiss grew to a hungry fervor, his tongue delving between your lips in order to taste you further. He wondered if you still tasted the same, even after all this time.

“It’s very true,” Jack told you, snapping out of his reverie.

You swallowed, fighting against the need to close your eyes at the feel of his breath against your neck and cheek. The heat of his skin pressed to yours was making you dizzy. “Why would you think that?”

He grinned. “You told me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I did not tell you a thing.”

“Ah, but of course you did, love,” Jack Sparrow began, trailing the two pads of his middle and index fingers down your throat, his dark eyes concentrated on the goose bumps he was causing to rise on your skin. “You just don’t remember.”

Finally, you allowed your eyes to close. His touch did not feel cold or forbidden, as Kail’s had last night in his room above the tavern. You did not feel guilt in the pit of your stomach, misunderstood or not, when he lowered his mouth to trail along the underside of your jaw. His mustache tickled your skin, causing a chill to rake down your spine. You were not afraid, not like you had been last night.

And his kiss? Would that cause you to feel anguish or pleasure? Gingerly, you reached up to touch his cheek, swallowing nervously as his jaw hardened. Your fingers moved to trace a cut on the left side of that jaw, curious to see a muscle there twitch at your touch.

You hadn’t known, but Jack was holding himself back to his fullest extent. Never had he had to restrict himself this much, had to hold himself back from pressing you, or any woman for that matter, to that wall behind you and taking you as he pleased. Never had he had to worry about him losing your trust or frightening you in any way. After that first kiss, the first night he made love to you, had he worried about doing something you would regret. But now... now you were different. You didn’t remember him. You didn’t remember stolen kisses or mornings in the rain. You didn’t remember humid nights on the Pearl with Jack inside of you, the windows open and covers pulled back as he made love to you. You didn’t remember sweat slicked bodies or a man’s touch.

You didn’t remember any of it.

But that didn’t stop you from leaning up and pressing your lips to his. It didn’t stop you from pressing your palm against his neck to keep him there, or tangling your fingers in his hair. And it didn’t stop Jack from pressing you back against that wall and deepening the kiss, or his arm from wrapping about your waist, clutching you to him for dear life.

...And suddenly, life didn’t seem so hard anymore.

“Darling,” Jack said, breaking off when you both had become bereft of breath, leaning his forehead against yours and closing his eyes in thought. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

There was a feeling in your stomach which you did not understand. But the moment his hand moved from your waist to your hip, his fingers gently moving back in forth in a simple relaxing caress, you realized what that tense sensation was. You wanted more. More to remember, more to taste, more to touch with your hands. You wanted more of -him-, plain and simple.

You swallowed. “Jack?”

Jack’s eyes opened instantly. He recognized that sound in your voice, the husky caress to his ears causing his hands to tighten on your waist and hip. God, he wanted you. And he would take you right now, right here, if things were different. He would kiss you again and press you back with his hips, gathering your skirts up with his hands so he could slip beneath them. He would- stop. He had to stop. If he continued to think about such things, he wouldn’t be able to control himself any longer.

“We should get a move on,” he told you, turning away.

“To where?” you asked, hands on your hips. Your dark shapely eyebrows were raised, the look on your face slightly wounded. Had you done something wrong?

He began making his way down the crowded street again, being sure you were at his side. “It may take some convincing, but I know someone who may take us in until this thing is settled.”

“Do I know this someone?” you pressed further.

Jack glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “Well, not at the moment.”

You rolled your eyes. “Did I?”

He nodded. “Aye, that you did.”

“Well,” you said, wanting more information. “Who are they? More pirates?”

Jack went still. “Pirates? What makes you say that?”

He had not mentioned anything to you about pirates. He had, of course, told you that he was the captain of the Black Pearl, but he did not think you had enough memories surfaced that you would put the two together. He was not trying to deceive you, but rather trying not scare you away. The first time he spoke with you in that alley you were shaken. You were unstable and nervous. Therefore, he was most careful with his words.

“Kail,” you replied. “He called you a pirate. Was he right?”

Jack nodded. For a moment there, he had gotten his hopes up. He was still holding on to every bit of hope that you would remember. He exhaled, suddenly noticing he had been holding his breath. “Aye,” he said. “I won’t lie to you, darling.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t pirates supposed to be terrifying?”

“Rascals, scoundrels, villains and knaves,” Jack said in a sing-song tone, laughter in his voice at your question.

“Drink up me ‘earties, yo ho,” you whispered quietly to yourself, not even realizing the words had left your lips.

Once again, Jack froze, gazing at you with wide, surprised eyes. “What did you say?”

You opened your mouth, about to reply, when suddenly you realized what you had said. Where had it come from? And why was that tune suddenly in your head? You pressed your lips together, a look of confusion written across your fair features.

Jack smiled. “We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot...”

“...We kidnap and ravage and don’t give a hoot,” you continued, your bright eyes growing just as wide as his. The words were careless as they fell thoughtlessly from your kiss swollen lips. A memory. “Drink up me ‘earties, yo ho.”

* * * * *

CHAPTER 7 - The Bearer of Bad News

Jack twirled you around, his arms around your waist and his face buried in your neck. The moment your shoes hit the dirt again he pulled you to him tighter in a most intimate embrace. He was laughing. “Did you hear that, pet?” he exclaimed.

You smiled a bright, exquisite smile that Jack had not seen grace your lips in a very long while. “I remembered,” you said breathlessly.

Cupping his calloused hand about the back of your neck, Jack pulled you forward to kiss you again, acting in a quick frenzy to touch and taste you in any way he could. You remembered. “I use to drive you mad, singing that tune all the time,” he confessed as he broke away.

You laughed. “I can’t believe it.”

“This is fantastic,” he supplied, “Before you know it you’ll be remembering everything there is to know.”

You couldn’t stop smiling. “I know every word to that song. It keeps playing over and over in my head,” you confessed, realizing what triggered the memory. It was Jack. “Say something else.”

He laughed. “I don’t think it’s that easy, darling.”

“Perhaps it is,” you replied. “But no one has realized it.”

Before he could reply to this statement, however, the both of you were distracted by footsteps coming from the other end of the alley, two forms that Jack recognized instantly, despite your doubts. You tried moving back into the shadows, but he reached out and touched your arm, stilling your movements. “Just AnaMaria and Gibbs,” he told you.

That was when, if you squinted your azure eyes and concentrated on the sprinting silhouettes, you could see AnaMaria’s face and Mr. Gibbs' beard. You somewhat relaxed, trusting in Jack that the two pirates really were your friends and we not anything of a threat. They sounded chummy enough with the words that were shared in that room back at the inn when the two thought you were asleep.

“Good,” AnaMaria said breathlessly as she approached. “Ye found her. We’ve been looking everywhere for the both of ye. Jack, they know it’s her. The Redcoats seems dead set on finding her.”

“Aye,” Jack said, glancing over at you. “I’ve noticed.”

“We should set sail as soon as possible,” Gibbs advised.

The captain of the Black Pearl sighed. “That’s easier said than done, mate.”

Mr. Gibbs' brow raised in curiosity and worry. “Is somethin’ the matter with the Pearl?”

Jack shook his head, his russet eyes turning to you once more. “No, she’s fine.”

But AnaMaria understood what Jack had meant. You didn’t want to go. You didn’t trust them because you didn’t remember them. Not her, your friend, and not Jack, the man who has searched high and low for you the past four months. And this didn’t make AnaMaria a happy camper. No, it didn’t make her very happy at all. “They’ll lock ye up if ye stay here,” she snapped at you. “Or worse. They’ll kill ye.”

Jack, annoyed at her tone and the irate look in her umber eyes, turned to regard her. “Go back to the Pearl, AnaMaria.” His voice was so stern, so deep and rough and dominant that it sent a shiver down your spine.

She looked as though she wanted to argue with this, to say more to the both of you, but yet she obeyed. “Aye, captain,” she said. Gibbs gave you both an apprehensive look, but soon followed her, nodding at Jack in a silent departure.

“Well,” Jack began, “Let’s get a move on, then.”

“Jack,” you said, “Where are we really going?”

“To see a friend, just as I told you.”

You followed him, turning to glance at AnaMaria and Gibbs’ retreating forms, now too far away to hear what their moving lips were saying. “She is angry with me,” you stated aloud.

Jack was leading you down the other end of the alley. You could not see the streets from this end, however, but trees. Hundreds of trees. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “She’s always angry with everyone.”

“Why?” you asked.

“Because she’s a generally angry person,” he told you. “This way, love.”

You followed him out from behind the two buildings and into a field, stretching only a couple acres or so before it descended into the thick woods you saw a moment or so before. “They live down here?” you asked, looking around. There was not a lot to see down the bend he was leading you, and the people from the street had all but disappeared. There were not even any homes in sight.

He smiled at your constant jitters. “I know a shortcut, darling.”

“Are you sure there isn’t a better way?”

“Aye, I’m sure.”

There is no reason not to trust him, you told yourself. Kail was the one who lied, remember? Jack knew about the tattoo, he’s the one who taught you that ridiculous pirate song. He is the good guy here, right? Well, despite the fact that he is a wanted criminal. But does being a wanted criminal always make you a bad person? After all, wasn’t the army after you that very moment?

“Did they choose to live out in the middle of nowhere, or were they forced to?” you asked, a tinge of sarcasm in your voice as you pushed and maneuvered your way through the field behind him. The forest was moving closer and closer with each and every step.

Jack smiled back at you. “Worried, are you?”

‘Yes’, you thought, but were not about to admit this to him. “No, I’m not worried,” you fibbed. “I’m just curious. What kind of a friend are they, anyway?”

“A friend descended from a common ancestor,” Jack replied most innocently.

“Family?” you replied, stopping mid-step. “Mine or yours?”

Jack stopped and turned, wondering why you stopped so suddenly. “Yours,” he explained. “Your sister.”

“I have a sister? Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

He sighed. “There is so much to tell you, pet. So much you don’t know. I haven’t gotten around to nearly half of the things you would like me to.”

You took a couple steps forward until you were walking side by side with him. Jack reached over and rested his palm against your hip, touching you with gentle fingers that he was hoping would calm you rather than scare you away. He doesn’t want to feel as though he is keeping things from you.

“Are there any more?” you asked of your siblings.

Jack nodded. “Four. Cecilia is your only sister; she’s the oldest.”

Part of you was very surprised at this information. “I have three brothers?”

“Three very possessive older brothers,” he explained with a smile.

You inhaled this. You had four other siblings that you had never heard of. Well, you obviously had at one time, but you felt as though you had been living your entire life without any knowledge of them. And you were the youngest.

“And my parents?” you asked.

Jack hesitated, scratching his beard with two careful fingers. “I think you should ask Cecilia about that one, darling.”

He doesn’t want to be the bringer of bad news, you realized. “You told me my father was a drunk,” you pointed out to him.

“Aye,” he said. You waited for more back story, for anything to explain this description. After a moment, Jack gave you a sideward look, knowing you were waiting for an explanation for his saying this. “I never met him, darling. I only know what you had told me. In fact, I’ve only met Cecilia.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Then how do you know my brothers are possessive?”

He grinned. “Because your sister likes to remind me that I would be dead if they knew about you and I.”

Your silent after this. Jack doesn’t press, assuming that this was a lot of information for you to take in. After all, you know you have family now. Perhaps you don’t feel so alone as you did before. You have someone to fill in your childhood, your past. The parts of your life that Jack doesn’t know too much about. You never liked discussing your family, your innocent years. There was a lot of things that you wished to forget. And now that you had, you wanted to remember. You wanted those memories back. Jack didn’t blame you; the joy and the pain of life was what made you -you-.

It was then that you realized you were surrounded by trees. Before, you were too distracted with your thoughts to take a look at your surroundings. “No offense, Jack,” you said, looking around as the beams of sunlight shone through the branches and many greens. “But this is not the best place to take a girl when she already has trust issues.”

He threw you an amused glance. “Relax. I won’t let anything happen to you. Besides, it’s not that far of a walk. What could possibly happen?”

“I’ll bet that’s what all the murderers say to their victims,” you murmured under your breath.

Jack laughed at this. “The last thing I would do is murder you, pet. Not in broad daylight, at least,” he added with a grin.

You couldn’t help but smile at this comment. “That’s comforting.”

But in all honesty, it was. Jack’s presence was an unexplainable safety, and even as he walked in front of you, you couldn’t help but realize all he has done to keep you safe. If he wanted you dead, he would have long since killed you by now. He’s had multiple chances.

You kept your eyes on his back at you walked, gazing curiously at the deep blue fabric of his weathered coat and the glass beads in his hair. You had been so deep in thought that you hadn’t even noticed the large house the both of your were approaching until you were standing on a path of cobblestones, leading to the front doorway.

Jack took a deep breath. “Well, here we go...”

You raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

He shook his head. “Course not, darling. Just wondering how hard I’m to be slapped this time. Cecilia doesn’t like me much,” he told you with an amused grin.

Your eyes widened. “Then why are we here?”

He shrugged. “Well, she likes you.”

He was leading you closer to the porch now. “But,” you stammered, “But I don’t remember her.”

“What’s your point, darling?” he asked, reaching out to knock swiftly on the door.

You shook your head. “This is wrong.”

Jack opened his mouth to reply with some witty retort as usual, when the door suddenly swung open. There stood Cecilia Mancini with her long chestnut hair and pretty face. The moment she saw you, however, her grey eyes widened from curiosity to surprise. Saying your name in a most excited tone, she reached out and pulled you into a sisterly hug, fretting over your tousled appearance and soiled clothes.

“What happened to you?” she asked.

You were unsure how to react. “I, um, ran into some trouble.”

Then, she saw the man standing beside you and suddenly straightened considerably. “Hello, Jack.”

He grinned. “Morning, Cecilia. Mind if I come in?”

Cecilia sighed. “I suppose not,” she said, stepping back and swinging her arm out in a welcoming gesture. Jack wasn’t sure, but he got the impression that her welcome wasn’t exactly sincere.

“Splendid!” Jack replied, stepping inside and clasping his hands together in thanks. “It seems we have a lot to discuss.”

“Discuss?” she asked, but it seemed her interest in Jack’s words was only halfhearted as her eyes were looking you over from head to foot most curiously. What had happened? There was an angry cut along your left temple, along many other minor cuts and bruises. They appeared to be healing nicely, but this did not cease her worry.

Jack nodded. “Aye. You may want to sit down for this, love. Or grab a bottle of that fancy white wine you insist on drinking so often.”

Cecilia rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore this comment. “Can it not wait, Jack? Look at her!”

You raised your eyebrows at this, wondering why Cecilia disliked Jack so much.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” she kept asking.

“No,” you replied. “I’m fine.”

She exhaled. “I thought you were finished with this piracy phase,” Cecilia touched the bridge of her nose with thin fingers, shaking her head.

Jack narrowed his eyes at her. Cecilia never supported your lifestyle, especially your relationship with Jack. He was a criminal, she always told you. That’s all she saw him as. The first time you had introduced him to her, you had lied about his profession, telling your older sister that he was a sailor. A wanted sign she discovered a week after the two of you had left town blew your cover, however. Your next visit was not as easygoing or friendly, needless to say.

“Well,” Cecilia said after a moment, pressing her lips together. “Do you want something to eat? It looks like you could eat a large feast,” she commented at your loss of weight. “Haven’t you been feeding her, Jack?”

The pirate rolled his eyes. “She feeds herself, you know.”

“And a washing,” your sister said, ignoring Jack’s reply. Gently, she examined the cut next to your eye, touching your skin with gentle, mother-like fingers. “This wound looks angry.”

“Cecilia,” Jack pressed, “Slow down for a second, will you?” She stopped, turning to stare him down with annoyed bluegrey eyes. Your eyes, without the intensity and forte. “There’s something very important that you and I need to discuss.”

Cecilia’s eyes moved from Jack’s to yours, her brow crinkled slightly in suspicion. She was wondering why you were being so painfully quiet. And your posture; it was timid, unsure. Something wasn’t right. You always stood with confidence and assurance. And the look in your eyes... there was something different about them. Something amiss in their deep blue depths that she just couldn’t put her finger on.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” your sister said, almost in a panic. She had always been over dramatic, which is exactly why Jack was not too excited about sharing your sudden news with her. Not that he would if he had a choice, anyway. But you needed somewhere to hide out, somewhere the guards wouldn’t come looking for you. And that’s all he cared about at the moment, was keeping you safe.

“Everything’s fine,” he tried to assure her, even when he knew everything was not so fine at all. But he had to be the rational one, right? Now, how to tell her that her one and only sister has no recollection of herself or anyone around her... “Uh, Cecilia... um... your sister, here, she, uh... has this problem, you see... she, uh... is having problems remembering? Certain things. Just a little.”

Shit. That wasn’t right, was it? There could have been an easier way, a more sympathetic way. Jack was not good with these sorts of things. You had always been better at breaking bad news, at being kind and intimate with people. But he couldn’t very well push you in front of a woman you couldn’t remember ever seeing in your life and say, ‘All right, love, here you are. Now, don’t forget to explain the details of your memory lapse! Ta!’

Now all he could do was stand and wait for the downfall.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 8 - The Calm Before The Storm

Cecilia went completely still. You watched as she looked from Jack to you, and then back to Jack. And then she laughed, but only for a split second before going still as stone once again. Her eyes, moving back and forth between you once more, finally grew angry. “She doesn’t remember anything,” she stated, not a question but as a realization.

Jack scratched his head. This was going considerably well, he thought. At least she wasn’t yelling, or throwing things, or trying to strangle him. Perhaps she has calmed down since the last time he had seen her?

“Like amnesia?” she asked forcefully. “How did she get amnesia?”

Jack took a step backwards. Perhaps that was just the calm before the storm. “We’re not sure, actually.”

Your sister looked at you inquisitively before turning back to Jack, a look of murder in her eyes. Uh oh. What should you do? What should you say? What if she kills him, right here in front of you? You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out, considering Cecilia beat you to the chase.

“What do you mean you’re not sure, Jack? What, she just wakes up one day and doesn’t remember anyone? What happened?” Cecilia snapped.

Jack reaches up with two long, graceful fingers to run thoughtfully over the scruffy dark line of his jaw. “She doesn’t remember?”

Cecilia wanted to kill him, that was for sure. He was always getting you into trouble, always putting your life at risk. She had told you from the very beginning that he would only break your heart. But no, now he has only broken your mind. “Why don’t -you- remember? Weren’t you there with her?” she nearly shouted.

The pirate put on his most charming, innocent face. “No?”

She -was- going to kill him, by the look in her eyes. And she probably would have launched herself at him if you would have not stepped in right at that very moment. “It’s not his fault,” you told her strongly. Why was she accusing him? It wasn’t Jack’s fault what happened to you. “Like he said, he wasn’t even there,” you continued.

“And it’s a good thing, too,” Your sister said, taking a step away from the two of you, shaking her head as though she pitied the both of you. “You probably would be dead if he had been.”

Jack narrowed his eyes at her, lifting his chin a bit to get a better look. Did she just insinuate that Jack was a liability to you, or had he imagined it? No, she really said it. Her gaze was burning with nothing more than utterable anger and undeniable hate.

“He’s done nothing but help me,” you insisted.

Cecilia crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking Jack over with a most distasteful gaze. “You could have fooled me.”

You opened your mouth to say more, but Jack grabbed you about the waist, saying in your ear so your sister would not hear, “Let’s not provoke her, love. I don’t want to get slapped.”

Cecilia sighed. “Christ, look at you. How did you get so scratched up?”

You hesitated. “I’m wanted for murder?”

Your older sister grew rapidly pale. For a moment there, Jack actually believed she was going to faint. “Murder?” she repeated.

“Which explains why we’re here,” Jack told her. “The redcoats are on her tail.”

“Murder?” Cecilia exclaimed.

“It was self defense,” you condemned most innocently.

She exhaled, trying to stay calm. How did it come to this? How did it come to her youngest sister running around with pirates and being tracked down by the King’s army? “Who did you kill?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. He... he jumped me when I was walking down by the docks. I didn’t want to kill him,” you pleaded with her.

“Of course you didn’t want to,” she agreed, leading you into the house with a hand at your back. “I’m going to have a chat with Jack, all right? Now, find yourself something to wear, and wash up while I make something to eat.”

You opened your mouth to argue, aware you are being backed into a bedroom, but Jack gave you a small, calming smile. “S’all right, darling.”

You exhaled as Cecilia closed the door, leaving you alone in an unfamiliar room, nervous and confused as you listened to their shouting, fading slightly as they migrated to another room in the house.

Where were you, anyway? You took a look around, finding a large bed covered in comfortable-looking quilts and pillows at the opposite wall, as well as a glass vanity and mirror at the wall closest to you on your right. Little trinkets littered the vanity, and maps hung on the walls. As you turned to your left there was a large maple armoire, it’s red brown wood smooth and polished. Was this Cecilia’s room?

Carefully, you pull open the doors of said armoire, peering inside curiously. Dresses hung from the top, folds and folds of silk and fabric pooling down in graceful waves of gold and green. You noticed instantly that there were only five or six dresses in general.

Strange, you though, perhaps Cecilia has another room? This was a fairly large house, after all.

As you ran your fingertips over the fine details of the gowns, your hands stopped at a shelf directly below them, supporting two stacks of loose, flowing shirts and britches. Deciding to choose comfort over style, you automatically went for the sailors choice of clothing.

Setting the two items at the foot of the bed, you turned towards the wash basin in the corner, thankful to see a pitcher of water and a bar of soap on the table beside the porcelain bowl.

Dunking the bar of soap into the water, you gently massaged the lump until it lathered in your hands, but your blue eyes were more interested in your unrecognizable appearance in the mirror hanging above it. Your eyes were bright and sparkling, your cheeks pale and freckles barely dotting your nose. Somehow, this seemed odd, as though your flesh should be more warm and inviting, golden and freckles dark and adorably scattered over the tops of your high cheekbones. Your long hair, a redbrown, hung in a loose braid at the base of your neck, reaching your mid-back. Petal lips pursed, you realized the frown on your face just as a sudden crash woke you from your intense stupor.

* * * *

Jack ducked, wincing as a glass of wine just barely missed the beaded and braided condors of his head before crashing to the wall directly behind him.

“And here I thought you were just about to warm up to me,” he quipped.

Cecilia shook a finger at him. “I will never warm up to you, Jack Sparrow! You turned my little sister into a bloody criminal!”

“Captain Jack Sparrow,” the pirate corrected her with a roll of his eyes. “And I didn’t turn her into anything, love. She was a criminal long before I met her.”

She laughed a sardonic laugh. “She was hardly a-”

“Know how I met her, ‘Celia? In a prison. She was seducing the guard so she could steal his keys. You know why she was in there? Got caught taking a pocket watch from a man’s coat. She was a pirate before I came along, and she’ll be one whether I’m at her side or not.”

Cecilia could not handle this information, Jack realized as she put her hand to her mouth, her grey eyes shining considerably. “You’re a liar, Sparrow, and you always have been!”

He shook his head at her, his expression anything but smug now. “Not when it comes to her, I’m not.”

“Go,” she told him, lowering herself into the nearest chair. “Get out of my sight.”

Jack sighed, rolling his eyes most insensitively and turning on his heel to return to you. He would turn and glance back at her every moment or so, just keeping an eye on her until he couldn’t any longer. He hoped she wouldn’t do anything rash.

Frowning, the pirate captain realized there was a sudden sick feeling in his stomach. Guilt. Perhaps he shouldn’t have told her what he just had? Cecilia was always very sensitive when it came to you. But it was something she needed to hear, wasn’t it? Something she needed to accept. You were a pirate, and nothing was going to change that. Not even your lack of memory.

Jack didn’t knock as he pulled open the bedroom door down the front hall, trying his best to ignore sounds of Cecilia’s weeping in the background.

“Jesus, Jack!” you exclaimed as he invited himself in, hugging the shirt in your hands close to your bare chest.

“Relax, darling,” he told you, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

You were blushing something fierce. “Turn your back, please.”

Jack grinned a sly, dangerous grin that simply gave you chills. “Don’t be shy, love.”

Your jaw locked. “Turn your back or get out.”

He sighed in defeat, turning around [You always got what you wanted from him]. “I will be honest with you, love, I’m kind of enjoying this demure side of yours.”

“I’m guessing that’s not exactly a word you would choose to describe me,” you replied, pulling the shirt over your head.

The rustling of fabric made him restless and impatient. “Can I turn around now?” he asked.

“Yes,” you told him quietly, feeling uncomfortable and awkward beneath his russet gaze.

Jack turned, swallowing thickly at the sight of you. There you stood, your long wavy hair kept loose and flowing down past your shoulders, the dark blue, fluent shirt you were wearing hugging all the right places. He couldn’t believe it; it was you he was seeing before him. Not a shell of who you used to be, but really -you-.

“Why does Cecilia keep men’s clothing in her armoire?” you asked, snapping him into reality.

“Cecilia?” Jack blinked at you, trying to comprehend what exactly it was that you were asking him. Did you think this was your sister’s room? “No, darling, her room is up the stairs. This is your room.”

Your eyebrows raised. “My room? I lived here?”

“For a couple months a couple years ago,” Jack admitted, taking a look around the room. It was the same as you had left it, down to the books stacked on the floor and the jewelry dangling on your vanity.

“Why did I move out?” you wondered, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and folding your feet up beside you.

Jack turned back to face you. “Because Cecilia drives you up a wall.”

A little blunt, you must admit. But that’s what you wanted, right? The truth. “She doesn’t approve of your lifestyle. Our lifestyle,” you said, correcting yourself.

“No, she doesn’t,” he agreed.

You looked at him as he sat down beside you. “Is she all right?”

“Cecilia? Oh, she’s fine.”

You gave him a small smile. “I’m not deaf, Jack. Something was broken in there.”

The pirate shrugs. “Wine glass. Your sister is very fond of her alcoholic beverages.”

Your brow furrowed. “Oh.”

He reached out suddenly, cupping your cheek gently in his hand [How does he make you feel so safe?]. His eyes, dark and thoughtful, studied yours crucially. “You don’t have to worry, love. It’ll come back to you eventually.”

You nodded, although he could see a glimpse of hopelessness in your bright eyes. “I hope so.”

Jack fingers touched your hair, your neck, your lips, very patiently looking you over. His eyes were content, you think, as they shone an almost amber color in comparison to his normal dark brown. And then he was kissing you, very gently, his rough palms cupping your cheeks.

You were surprised at how soft and tame he was being with you, how gentle. When his lips left yours and he pulled back, his eyes stayed closed for a moment, as though his mind was reeling from the intimate caress. When his lashes did flutter open, however, your pink lips lifted up into a placate smile, your blue eyes shining with satisfaction.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Jack raised his brow. “‘Course, darling.”

“Why -weren’t- you there?” you asked.

Jack felt his stomach drop. Why wasn’t he there when all of this happened, you meant. Why wasn’t he there when you were robbed of everything that you were? He swallowed thickly, trying to rid himself of this sick feeling inside his chest. “We were in Tortuga, stocking up on supplies,” he started, “You and I got into a quarrel. You got angry, you stormed out.”

Your voice was quiet. “Why didn’t you come after me?”

He brushed a stray strand of hair away from your lips. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Timidly, you nodded. “What were we fighting about?”

He shook his head. “I can’t remember what even started it, darling. One thing lead to another, and...” he paused, sighing. “We were famous for our arguments, you see.”

Your eyes were everything of confused and curious, now. “But if we quarreled so much, why were we together in the first place?” you asked, but the moment the words left your mouth you somewhat regretted them. You knew this was a question that Jack was not going to answer. Perhaps he -couldn’t- answer it.

He cleared his throat, looking away and touching the braids of his beard thoughtfully. “What’s the first thing you remember?” he asked, quickly changing the subject.

You didn’t want to press. Something told you that Jack would not take to that lightly. “I...” you stopped, but only for a moment. “I woke up on the street, in the rain.”

He turned back to you, raising an eyebrow. “On the street?”

You nodded, looking at him cautiously. “And I wasn’t... wearing anything.”

“Shit,” Jack said before he could stop himself. You weren’t wearing anything? What if someone had hurt you, if they had touched you in such a way that would make his blood boil, that would drive him to such a murderous anger that he wouldn’t be able to control himself? No, he corrected himself. That would never happen. You were more than capable of protecting yourself, he knew that very well. “Where did you get that, then?” he asked, pointing to the blue dress you had been wearing previously, pooled in a pile on the floor, forgotten. He was trying to keep his mind off the obvious thoughts in his head.

“I stole it?” you suggested.

He laughed, his lips turning up into that charming grin. “That’s me girl!”

You were surprised to hear yourself join in on his amusement, laughing despite yourself. “It seemed like the right thing to do. Well, the -only- thing to do.”

“And Kail?” Jack asked you. “Where does he come in?”

“I found a tavern, probably a mile or two away from where I awoke,” you explained to the pirate. “I went inside to ask, well, exactly where I was. The bartender said, Ville des fantômes.”

“The town of Ghosts,” Jack translated with a nod. “Jamaica.”

“When I was leaving,” you continued, “Kail ran into me at the door. Cursed at me something awful, and suddenly, he just stopped. After that he became very friendly with me.”

It’s still hard for you to believe, at times, when you think about the situation. Kail gave you food and shelter, he was the one who told you your name. Sure, he left out a lot of information and even lied to you about Jack and who knows what else, but he did help you, whether Jack wants to believe it or not. “Why do you think he did what he did, Jack?” you asked.

“Because he’s a sick bastard, that’s why,” Jack told you.

You shook your head. “No, Jack, he -helped- me. If he’s so awful, why would he do that?”

Jack had been avoiding this question with himself. Kail was your enemy. Why -would- he help the lover of his worst foe, the same woman he had beaten and used to get to him on more than one occasion? It didn’t add up, and Jack would have to square with that sooner or later.

Jack looked at you, his eyes dark and dangerous once again. “I think I’ll have to be paying another visit to our good friend Mr. McGrath, wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

* * * * *

CHAPTER 9 - A Team of Two

“No, darling, you're staying here.”

“But I don't -want- to stay here.”

“Why not? Free food and shelter? Doesn't sound so bad to me,” Jack Sparrow argued with you, pulling his blue coat over his shoulders and placing his beloved hat back onto his braided head.

You lowered your voice in case Cecilia was in hearing distance somewhere in the house. “Because I do not want to be here.”

“She's your older sister,” he explained to you, “It's her job to protect you. Besides, Alick will be home soon.”

Your brows drew together in annoyance and confusion. “Who's Alick?”

“Cecilia's husband,? Jack said, opening the door to the bedroom and stepping out.

You reached out and quickly grabbed his arm, holding the sleeve of his coat so tight between your fingers that your knuckles turned white. “Please don't leave me here with another person I don't know,” you asked him quietly.

He watched you for a moment with soft, wavering eyes before he shook his head slightly and said, “It's not safe, love.”

Your eyes were young and wide. “I don't care.”

He exhaled. “Just stay here, all right? I'll be back before you know it. Get some rest.”

You watched as he turned on his heel and began walking away, back down the hall and farther away from you with each step. Should you follow him, or would such actions just anger him? You were so frustrated, not knowing anything and being so unsure of every thought that crossed your mind and every movement your body made. You were unable to predict anything.

“Where are you going?” you heard a voice call. It was Cecilia, questioning the pirate about to step foot outside her front door.

“Running an errand,” Jack replied, “Don't wait up.”

You jumped as the door slammed shut. “Not that I would anyway,” you heard Cecilia murmur to herself. Not a moment later she appeared at the front of the hallway, her pale yellow skirts swishing and her eyes pink and irritated.

“There you are,” your sister said, taking a few steps closer to close the wide space between you and forcing a sympathetic smile. She touched your hair with gentle fingertips. “You look much better now. Are you hungry?”

You shook your head. It seemed you should be, considering you have not eaten in at least twenty-four hours, but it was almost as if your hunger [for anything] had vanished all together. You did not desire food anymore, and by your pale skin and skinny limbs, this much was obvious.

“Come now,” your sister said, taking you gently by the arm to lead you into the kitchen. “I've already made some tea.”

You shook your head, your feet seemingly cemented into the ground. ?I have to go after him.”

“He's just running an errand,” Cecilia told you with a shake of her dark head. “He'll be back before you realize he's gone.”

“I've -already- realized he's gone,” you argued, “He's going after Kail. And he can't expect me to just sit around and wait for him to return.”

With that, you took off down the hallway, your older sibling watching you with watery eyes and shaking hands. She'd lost you. She'd lost you to him, and piracy, and who knows how many other indecent acts you have committed as well, including murder. Cecilia called your name, not once but twice. You either did not hear her or did not care as you bolted out the door, leaving it wide open in your wake.

The musky afternoon air wafted through your long, dark locks as you stepped outside onto the porch, your footsteps stilling at the edge for only a moment. You could see Jack walking further along, not ten feet from the beginnings of the woods. You took off again, your eyes not moving from his walking form, sure you could convince him to take you along. Or you wouldn?t convince him at all; you would demand it. He couldn't -force- you to return to the house, after all. You were a human being and you had free will.

Jack could hear the grass and the leaves crackling behind him with someone else's footsteps. They were coming quickly; he knew you were running after him. “Darling,” he said with a sigh, not bothering himself to turn around in fear he would let his guard down. “Go back to the house.”

You narrowed your eyes at his back. “No.”

His breath hitched in his chest; you could make him frustrated more quickly and efficiently than anyone he's ever met in his life. Why did you never do what he asked of you? You always did only what you wanted. Deep down, he knew this was what he probably admired most about you. But would he ever admit this? It was a long shot.

“If we were as close as you said, and I am as fearless as you made me sound,” you told him, “Then we're a team, you and I. So why can you not treat me as your partner?”

The pirate captain felt as though you had just slapped him across the face. He had heard this before; it brought the memories back, your face and your voice and the way you had pouted and sighed back into his head, causing him to shiver in the heat of the sun. He missed you.

“You've probably given 'Celia a heart attack, running out on her like that,” Jack told you as he turned around to finally face you. Your cheeks were a soft pink, a little color hinting the creamy white he still was not used to. Your short time in the sun this past day had already darkened the freckles on your nose, and your eyes... they sparkled with happiness when you realized what he was saying. He was no longer arguing with you, demanding you return to that stranger. He was agreeing that you were indeed his partner in crime; you were a team.

Then, you smiled. “She'll be fine,” you told him.

“You're a pain in my ass, have I ever told you that?”

“Most likely,” you replied, your lips still upturned with the softest touch.

He felt his fingers twitch on his right hand; he wanted to touch you. He felt himself lean forward; he wanted to kiss you. The moment he realized his unconscious behavior, however, he snapped back.. He couldn't. If he moved too fast he might ruin it all, might loose your trust and cause you to fear him. That was not at all what he wanted. He couldn?t move too fast.

“What's wrong?” you asked, your eyes creasing in concern.

“Nothing,” Jack said quickly and loudly, causing you to jump, and turning his back once more to you as he began increasing his pace towards the woods. “Let's get a move on, love.”

“Jack,” you said lightly and curiously, like an innocent child. “What exactly are you going to do?”

“Ask your new friend a few -questions-,” he explained sarcastically.

You sighed, as though you deemed his behavior immature. “With your fists?”

The pirate raised a dark, quirky eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“He -helped- me, Jack.”

Suddenly, he stopped. “Why are you defending him? He is -not- trustworthy, darling. Do you hear me?” He grabbed you roughly by the arms, his eyes wild. He just wanted to convince you; he would do anything. This man was not your friend, sarcasm put aside. This man was your enemy, and you had the scars to prove it. “I do not know exactly what caused his actions recently, but his faults in the past have put him first on my bloody black list!?”

Your eyes went soft, went childlike, and that was the moment Jack let you go. Shit, he said to himself. He'd lost you now, he was sure of it. Why did he always let his temper get control of him like that?

You swallowed thickly. “Did he really hurt me the way you said he did?” you questioned gently, the words falling carefully and softly like crisp white flakes of snow from your lips. “You said he tortured me, that he...”

“Left you, bleeding to death, on the deck of the Pearl, yes,” Jack replied, his voice much more calm, controlled. “Love, please...”

“What happened?”

Jack sighed. He was afraid of this. He would have to explain it to you, of course, but he was fearful of telling you this tale. Of re-living this once more, of seeing those pictures in his head of you lying, half gone, metallic blood everywhere and marks on every inch of your skin. Kail had beaten you, and when you still hadn't revealed Jack's whereabouts, he had whipped you, and when you still hadn't said a peep, he held a gun to your head. And that, apparently, was when a man walked into Kail's office and explained how Jack was spotted escaping from a nearby jail. You, of course, had come to break him free, when Kail had found you before you found your pirate companion.

“He used you as ransom to get aboard the Pearl, and dropped you to the floor like you were a rag doll,” Jack said regrettably. “He's not very found of ol' Jack, here, you see. He got away with only a shot to the shoulder, unfortunately. We've met a few times since, but only briefly. The man has connections, darling. He's deemed untouchable.” Then, he lifted a dark, rough hand to cup your cheek. “But I want you to remember something.”

You closed your eyes, wondering how such a simple touch could be so intimate, so hypnotizing. “What's that?”

“I'm Captain Jack Sparrow.”

* * * *

“He's not here.”

“What do you mean he's not here?” Jack demanded. “He was here this morning.”

The barkeep shrugged. “He left.”

You sighed. Kail left? And so quickly? Perhaps something scared him off. Or, you consider, glancing over at Jack, maybe someone scared him off. All though, from what Jack has told you, it sounded like Kail was actually interested in getting to him. So what changed?

“Perhaps he is through feuding with you,” you suggested innocently.

Jack's eyes snapped down to you with edge, but after inspecting your face, your eyes honest and serious, he surprisingly smiled at you. “Still have your sense of humor, I see.”

“Jack?” you said, following him as he waved off the barkeep and began his way up the stairs. You knew where he was going; to the room he found you outside of last night, scared and crying and alone. “What are you doing? He said Kail left.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Doesn't mean we can't take a peek, love.”

“But,” you stammered, trying to stay close to him as a pair of drunken people bumped shoulders with you as they descended down the stairs beside you and the pirate. He could finally hear you as he stopped in front of the familiar door and turned to regard you. “You don't have a key,” you pointed out, nodding at his empty hand.

He smiled at you, touching your chin lightly with his fingertips before reaching back into your hair and pulling out a pin. “Watch and learn, my darling,” he said deeply into your ear, leaning in close so he could feel the delicious shiver run down your spine. With a wink, he leaned down next to the doorknob, thrusting the pin into the lock. You watched as he jerked his wrist quickly in different directions, and before you could say 'impressive', the door clicked open.

“Where did you learn that?” you asked him, your blue eyes wide as he turned back with a grin, handing your hairpin back.

“From you,” he said simply.

Your brow furrowed. “Really?”

Jack smiled a gentle, warming smile. “Aye.”

You followed him into the doorway. You expected to find a clean, abandoned room, spotless. But what was there made you stare in shock, most surprised. It was trashed. There were feathers everywhere, the mattress and pillows from the bed in pieces littering the floor boards. The drawers from the furniture was discarded. Even the curtains and bed clothes were removed.

“Well, I guess we know why Kail isn't here anymore,” you said quietly. “Do you think he did this?”

Jack's jaw was clenched. A tiny muscle there actually twitched, he was grinding his teeth together so hard. “We have to get out of here,” he said to you quickly, grabbing you by the arm. The redcoats, they were still searching for you from the likes of it, and somehow they connected Kail to the equation. “They're on our tail.”

“That inspector?” you asked, trying to keep up with his fast pace. His fingers were starting to sting your arm, he was gripping your limb so hard. “Would you stop? You're hurting me.”

His grip lessened, but he did not let go of you. “We need to leave here as soon as possible.”

You probably would have fallen down the stairs if he wasn't walking so close you could lean on him every time you tripped over your feet. “I'm not leaving, I told you that,” you argued.

“What exactly are you waiting to discover?” Jack demanded angrily. “This town is dangerous, don't you see that? They won't just arrest you, love. They will kill you. Criminals are not treated nicely here, if that is what you are hoping for.”

You eyes narrowed dangerously at him, and he could tell your anger at his words as the muscles in your face tensed and you jerked away from him. “I'm not an idiot, Jack.”

“Then come with me to the Pearl,” he said gently, stopping just outside the tavern and leaning in close to you. You could smell the salt on him, almost taste it as he leaned in close, your blue eyes never leaving his darker ones.

“I can't,” you whispered, closing your eyes. You had to know everything. -Everything-. Something was wrong here, and you refused to go until you knew the problem. Until you knew what it had to do with you. Obviously there was trouble in this path, but you could not leave it alone.

Jack's russet eyes were pleading with you. “This isn't the only place your memories will return, love. You have many memories on the Pearl. With -me-... with the crew. They'll come back. They -will-.”

His fingers were gentle as he ran rough palms down your arms. His hands were warm. “It's not only the memories I'm after,” you explained.

“What is it, then?”

You exhaled. “I need to know why I'm here. Why Kail helped me. I have so many questions that need to be answered, and this is the place I need to be in order to do that. Go to your ship, Jack, if your scared. I can do this on my own.”

Jack wagged a finger at you. “No, no, darling. You've never been so wrong. First of all,” he told you sternly, “Captain Jack Sparrow does not get scared. Second of all, we're a team, remember? I won't let you alone again.”

This time, you didn?t try to deny him of the smile. “If that's what you feel is right,” you replied.

A small grin pulled up in response to your own. His eyes were on your lips, full and soft just like he remembered. “What I feel is right,” he told you, “Is to leave now, before things get worse. But you're stubborn. Always have been.”

Your eyes fell to his own mouth, your mind not even registering his words as you grabbed him by the front of his shirt unless your lips were touching. You kissed him, hard, your mind reeling. You could feel his fingers in your hair and cupping your cheeks. He knew this was a bad idea. Deep down, you probably knew this was a bad idea. But had it ever stopped you before? Jack knew it hadn't. For now, he was just glad to be kissing you as though nothing had changed.

TBC...

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