Rebecca

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, save stripper bear, and trust me, he is gay.

Summery: Jack lost the most important woman in his life a long time ago, to a slave ship. What happens when she reappears as someone else and doesn't recognize him? Will he be heart broken forever? Or will she remember him? Not what you think, and not a Mary Sue!!!

A/n: I know that the summery was very bland, and secretive, but it is not what you think, trust me on this one. You will find out later what is all about. And I need something to get me off my block.

Prologue

Tortuga's hot sun beat down on the land below, as a cart road pass, a young girl with long black hair hanging out of the side of it. She looked out, and stood up ever now and then to look down the road, until a small boy ran up the path. He jumped over a few over a few fences, calling out the name 'Rebecca' and her face began to tear up, and she returned his calls with 'Jack'. He speeded after the cart, as fast as his legs would carry him, Kicking up dusk as he ran.

"Rebecca come back!" He shouted, tripping over a rock in the road, and falling face first into the dust. He stumbled to get to his feet, coughing to get, "Rebecca," Out of his month again, the bitter tasting dust still tickling his tongue. He brushed it out of his eyes, only to see that the cart had disappeared over the hills that lined the countryside. "REBECCA!" He shouted, trying to bring himself to run again, but his energy had been spent.

And that was all that Captain Jack Sparrow could think about for the years that followed. How he let his dear Rebecca slip away to a slave ship doomed to some far off distance land, with out him by her side.

And on a lighter note, had been haunting him his dreams lately. That was beginning to piss him off. This was one of those nights.

Jack had passed out from one of his partying with the crew, which had become a daily habit. He felt the dream leave him, and he woke like he always did. He rubbed his forehead, groaned, and turned to the bucket by his bed. It was full to the rim with salt water, and it was soon slipping out on to the floor, for his head had entered it.

"Land HO!" Jack jerked his head out of the bucket, only managing to flip it up in the air, along with his head, which it landed right on his head. Yes, Jack usually had that down to an art, but the call had, in short, scared the shit at him. For it were only 3 in the morning, and most of the crew knew not to yell at that time of night unless it was important. Jack grabbed the nearest shirt, and when off to the deck.