A/N: Hey, Kaitlyn here! I wrote this fic because I thought it would be a
cool idea, even though it's been done with every other thing. But why not a
PotC? So anyway, I hope you like it! And if it seems kinda boring in the
beginning, please keep reading 'coz I was in a weird mood when I wrote the
first few paragraphs. Okay, that's it, hope you like it!!
Disclaimer: All the usual stuff, you know, I don't own any of the characters or anything associated with Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. All of that belongs to Disney and whoever else owns it. But I did make up Rebecca and Marty is just some guy mention in this chapter.
~*Past, Present, and Future*~
*Chapter One*
~Rebecca~
The wind was blowing, the waters were churning and somewhere out in the Caribbean Sea, sailed an old ship with tattered, black sails. It was a good day to be out and about, sailing and such as the wind was picking up and giving off a good strong blow for any sail to catch.
Now, onto this ship, the one with the partly shredded sails. But these sails were different; they were black. And not just any black, but a deep, dark, evil sort of black. There was also a flag (that was colored the same black as the sails) which hung from the ship's mast. It held a white skull and crossbones: the sign of the pirates.
The ship had a large, motley crew which was bustling around, swabbing the deck, cleaning the galley, keeping lookout from the mainmast, or doing other types of chores required to keep a ship looking tiptop. At the wheel of the ship, stood the infamous captain of the Black Pearl: Jack Sparrow. I'm sure you all know what he looks like, so there's no need for a description. So, there stood Jack Sparrow . . . I mean, there stood Captain Jack Sparrow, holding his compass in one hand and the wheel in the other, grinning his toothy grin, as always.
And then suddenly, Mr. Gibbs - an old man and a friend of the captain's, who was also part of the crew - came up to the ship's wheel and beckoned to the man.
"Jack," Gibbs started, "we've got a stowaway,"
"Stowaway, eh?" asked the captain. "Well," he sighed, as though it was an everyday thing. "bring him up 'ere. Best get it over with before anythin' else happens,"
Mr. Gibbs wrung his hands nervously. "That's just it, Jack," he said. "It ain't a him,"
Now Jack looked mildly surprised. "We got ourselves 'nother woman?" Mr. Gibbs nodded.
"Anna Maria was bad enough," whispered Jack, more to himself than Mr. Gibbs.
"I heard that, Jack!" came a shout from one of the masts.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Is there ever a time when she don't 'ear me?" Then his eyes fell back to Mr. Gibbs. "Ah, about that . . . woman," he said the word with much distaste. "Why don't we go down tah meet 'er? Jus' ye and me," upon seeing the reaction on Mr. Gibbs face, Jack added, "Ye know how these sailors get, with their superstitions and all. Don't wanna upset none o' 'em, they'll have me land this ship in the next port, they will."
Mr. Gibbs nodded in agreement, and together, he and Jack went down to the lower deck.
"She'll be right in 'ere, Jack," said Mr. Gibbs, pointing towards a closed door. "By the way," he added, "you seem more sober than usual. What happened to all your drinkin'?"
"Ah," Jack shook his head mournfully. "Ran outta rum yesterday. Awful thing, havin' all the rum gone. Asked Marty if there was any in the cargo hold an' he said there wasn't none,"
Mr. Gibbs looked confused. "But Jack, there's whole crates full of rum here, in this room. It's where I found the stowaway!"
Jack growled, "That woman's bin stealin' my rum! And I'll make Marty walk the plank; tellin' me it's all gone! Shoulda checked, he should've,"
Mr. Gibbs didn't say anything, but he reached out and opened the wooden door to their right. It was dark inside, with only a single lantern hanging in the far corner. But the light from its flame revealed exactly what Mr. Gibbs had said: crates full of bottles and bottles of rum. Jack's eyes abruptly widened and a huge smile plastered his face. He ran over to the first crate in sight, pulled out a bottle in each hand, uncorked one, and gulped it down as fast as he could. He was done in a matter of a minute, opened the other one, and began drinking it's contents, as well.
"Slow down, Jack," said Mr. Gibbs, though he was grinning. "Drinkin' it that fast'll rush all the blood to your head!"
Jack neither heard nor cared and was just about done with the second bottle. He grabbed another, but this one he drank slowly and leisurely, already having drunk his fill for the twenty-four or more hours that he had missed of drinking rum.
"Eh, Jack?" questioned Mr. Gibbs. "Ain't you gonna deal with the stowaway?"
Jack looked a bit confused. "Wha-? Oh, oh yeah," he said, shaking his head a little. "Aye, Gibbs, I am. Now, tell me, w'ere's the little scoundrel who snuck on me Pearl?"
"Right here, she's right here!" exclaimed Mr. Gibbs, dragging someone out from the shadows. Jack furrowed his brows, took the lantern off the peg and brought it closer to the body so he could examine the face.
"What is this, Gibbs?" asked Jack. "This ain't no woman, it's a . . . a . . . little girl!"
And indeed it was a little girl. A small girl who couldn't have been more than twelve. She had light brown hair with a few blond-ish streaks in the front, a small, pale face with a light dusting of freckles, and full pink lips. Her eyes were closed, but they were framed by long brown eyelashes and she had a small, cute, little nose.
Mr. Gibbs looked at her more closely. "Well, I s'pose she's a bit small to be a woman, but she's still a girl. And they're all bad luck,"
"She's dead," said Jack. "Or asleep," he shrugged and took another swig of rum. "Why don' ye wake 'er up?"
"Aye," said Mr. Gibbs. "I'll try me best." He cleared his throat, grabbed the girl's shoulder with one hand, and gently slapped her face a few times with the other hand. When that had absolutely no affect, he turned her face to the side, bent close to her ear, opened his mouth, and screamed at the top of his lungs, "WAKE UP, YOU BLOODY WOMAN!"
Jack choked on his rum and spit it out all over Mr. Gibbs. He covered his ears and said, "What are ye tryin' tah do, Gibbs? I thought we weren' s'posed tah let ev'ryone know she was 'ere!"
Mr. Gibbs grinned sheepishly, "Sorry 'bout that,"
"She still ain't awake," said Jack. "I say she's dead an' if she don' come to by nightfall, throw 'er overboard,"
Mr. Gibbs looked horrified. "But Jack, what if she's alive! Throwin' a sleepin' person overboard isn't right. It's says so in the Code, and you gotta respec' the Code, they're the rules,"
"They're more like guidelines," muttered Jack. "All righ', I got a solution. This'll wake 'er up no matter what if she ain't dead,"
Jack lifted his half-empty bottle of rum and poured it all over the girl's face. She spluttered a bit, then sat up and began coughing.
Jack grinned, "Told ye it'd work!" Then he looked down at the empty bottle and added, "Waste o' rum, though,"
Once the girl got over her coughing fit, she stared long and hard at the two men. Mr. Gibbs was about to ask who she was, when the girl spoke up.
"Jack!" she exclaimed. "And Mr. Gibbs! What happened to the both of you?"
Mr. Gibbs and Jack exchanged a glance.
"Excuse me, luv," began Jack. "But do ye even know who I am?"
"Why, of course," answered the girl. "You're Jack,"
Jack shook his head, "No, no, no," he said. "I'm not jus' Jack; I'm Cap-" "Captain Jack Sparrow," finished the girl. "Are we on the Black Pearl?" she asked.
Jack looked at her through narrow eyes. "An' jus' what do ye know abou' the Black Pearl?" he asked her suspiciously.
"Everything!" she exclaimed. "I've been on this ship so many times, I know it from top to bottom," she said proudly.
Jack raised a dark eyebrow. "Bin on 'ere that long, eh?" he asked.
Mr. Gibbs spoke for the first time in the girl's presence. "Who are you? How long have you been hiding out in here?"
"Who am I?" the girl repeated dumbly. "Why are you asking that for, Mr. Gibbs? You've known me all my life. Both of you have," she said.
"If we've known you all your life, then how come we don't know your name? Or haven't even seen you before?" asked Mr. Gibbs. "And how'd you get here?" he added as an afterthought.
The girl looked strangely at the man. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Mr. Gibbs, but I assure you, I'm not fond of it. And if you must know again, my name's Rebecca," she answered.
Jack was impressed with her attitude. The was acting more mature than her age. She had a lot of spunk, perfect for being a pirate. He recognized that kind of attitude, it seemed remotely familiar, but he couldn't place it. Come to think of it, she looked familiar.
"I don't know how I got here, actually," the girl went on in that same mature way as before. "One minute, I was sitting on my bed, reading a delightful little book, and the next minute, I wake up here," she looked down at her dress, which was now soiled by a dark liquid. She gingerly smelled it. "Covered in rum!" she finished. Then she turned towards the captain. "I see you've been drinking as usual, Jack. Did I fall asleep? Did you take me out my room? Are my parents here? And what am I doing down here, with the cargo?"
The girl was definitely smart, you couldn't deny that.
"Yes," answered Jack "ye did fall asleep; no, I did not take ye outta yer room; I don' know who yer parents are and I don' know what yer doing down 'ere. Oh, an' I don' know who ye are, although' ye look really familiar, luv,"
The girl was outraged; she stood up to her full height, put her hands on her hips, and looked down at the two men who were squatting on the floor, where she had been a second ago.
"Of course you know my parents, Jack! What's wrong with you?!" she shouted.
Jack stood up, as well, towering over the rambunctious little girl. "I think the question is, luv," said Jack. "What's wrong with ye. 'Cause I don' know any couple who's got a little girl named Rebecca and I'd think I'd know if I'd knew ye,"
"Eurgh!" exclaimed Rebecca, jumping up and down. "Jack, I think you've had too much to drink! I know you know my parents and I know you know me! I've around you my entire life, and I know you've known my parents since before I was even born!"
Jack was a bit panicked; he didn't know how to handle children, it had never come up, with being a pirate and all. Besides, this girl had a mean temper and she seemed determined enough to do anything. Somehow, that seemed very familiar . . .
"Calm down, luv. Calm down," said Jack, holding his hands out in front of him. "I didn' mean tah upset ye, but I swear I don' know yer -"
But Rebecca cut him off. "Are you telling me you don't know Elizabeth and William Turner?" she asked, her arms crossed against her chest and a smirk playing on her lips.
Jack was flabbergasted; he hadn't seen the two people she was talking about in a little over a year, when he had first left Port Royal.
" 'Course I know Will an' Elizabet', but what do ye know abou' them?" he asked, once again suspicious of the girl.
Rebecca unfolded her arms and sighed deeply. "Ja-ack!" she exclaimed. "Stop being mean! I know lots about them because they are my parents!!" For a full minute, Jack was shocked. Then, when he finally composed himself, he said, "They're yer parents, eh?" When Rebecca nodded, he continued. "Well, I don' think that's possible, 'cause fer one, they're not married, two, they don' have a daughter, an' three, yer too ol' tah be they're daughter!"
Rebecca opened her mouth to speak, but then changed her mind and closed it. Then she asked something else. "What year is it?"
Jack look surprised by her seemingly irrelevant question, but he answered her anyway. "It's 1695, but what's that got tah do with any o' it?"
Rebecca leaned back against the crates and propped her cheek up oh her hand. "Well," she said, "that's curious,"
"What?" asked Mr. Gibbs, who hadn't spoken in a while. "What's curious?"
"What's curious is the fact that I wasn't born until 1698," said Rebecca.
Jack snorted, "If ye were born in 1698 than what are ye doin' in 1695?" He obviously thought this just some sort of weird, twisted joke.
"That's exactly what I was wondering," said Rebecca, without noticing that Jack wasn't serious. But she was serious. She really had been born in 1698.
"Jack," Rebecca looked up at the pirate, "you've got to take me back!"
"Take you back?" he repeated. "I can't take ye back, I don' know where ye came from, and even if I did, I don' know ye, so yer outta luck," Jack turned to walk away, but then called over his shoulder, "Gibbs, take 'er up to the top deck an' drop 'er off at the nearest harbor,"
Jack started walking up the wooden steps when something grabbed his leg. He turned to find Rebecca clutching him, a frown on her face and tears welling up in her eyes.
"Jack! You can't just leave me! I have to find my mum and dad! I have to go back home! Don't you believe me? Don't you recognize me? I'm Rebecca!" she exclaimed. "Rebecca Turner!"
"Rebecca Turner?" questioned Jack. He turned to look at the small girl and he suddenly realized why she looked so familiar. "Ye look jus' like Elizabet'," he murmured. "But ye've got Will's eyes,"
"I know, that what you've always told me, Jack," said Rebecca.
Jack thought things over. Perhaps she was telling the truth.
"What year did ye come from, then?" he asked.
The girl smiled, "Does that mean you'll help me get back?" she asked.
"No, I jus' asked ye what year ye were from," said Jack, and Rebecca's face fell again. "But maybe we can figure this out," he added, seeing that she was about to cry.
"Oh, Jack! I knew you'd believe me!" she exclaimed. "After all those stories you've told me about the curse that was on the Black Pearl and how you escaped off that island twice and how you rescued my mum and dad singlehandedly from Barbossa; I knew you just had to believe me!"
"I told ye that, did I?" asked Jack. It definitely seemed like something he'd do.
"Yes, you did. In 1710, that's year I came from. Jack, you've got to take me to my parents. Maybe they know something about how I got here. If they don't . . . then I guess we'll have to find out anyway," Rebecca said.
Jack hesitated for a moment, but then said, "We'll have to take ye upstairs an' make sure the crew doesn' have a fit. They're always goin' on abou' those superstitions, ye know," explained Jack.
Rebecca gave him a huge grin and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you!" she squealed. "You've always been my hero, Jack, but now I love you even more!"
Jack awkwardly patted her on the back. "Uh, okay then," he said, "best get movin',"
When they were almost up the entire flight of steps, Jack suddenly called, "Oy! What happened tah Gibbs?"
Coming back down, they saw that Mr. Gibbs had passed out on the wooden floor; an empty crate and a dozen empty bottles surrounded him. Jack shook his head, "Sometimes, I swear that man drinks more rum than me! And that's sayin' something!"
~*~
A/N: So, how was it? Hopefully not too bad. Please leave me a review and tell what you think. Should I continue? I know it's sort of short, but I just wanted to what kind of reaction I would get before I post up a bunch of chapters. I don't have them type, so they might take a bit, but please stay with me, and nice reviews always talk writers into typing faster . . . *wink, wink* *hint, hint*. LoL, but really, if you have any suggestions or ideas, please share them with me, I'd be more than happy to hear them.
Oh, and I picked the year to be 1695 randomly, because all this is supposed to take place in the 17th century, which means the 1600's. Also, I know the name's supposed to be spelled 'Anamaria' according to the script, but I like it better 'Anna Maria' so that's how it's going to be for this fic. Thanks!
~*Kaitlyn*~
Disclaimer: All the usual stuff, you know, I don't own any of the characters or anything associated with Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. All of that belongs to Disney and whoever else owns it. But I did make up Rebecca and Marty is just some guy mention in this chapter.
~*Past, Present, and Future*~
*Chapter One*
~Rebecca~
The wind was blowing, the waters were churning and somewhere out in the Caribbean Sea, sailed an old ship with tattered, black sails. It was a good day to be out and about, sailing and such as the wind was picking up and giving off a good strong blow for any sail to catch.
Now, onto this ship, the one with the partly shredded sails. But these sails were different; they were black. And not just any black, but a deep, dark, evil sort of black. There was also a flag (that was colored the same black as the sails) which hung from the ship's mast. It held a white skull and crossbones: the sign of the pirates.
The ship had a large, motley crew which was bustling around, swabbing the deck, cleaning the galley, keeping lookout from the mainmast, or doing other types of chores required to keep a ship looking tiptop. At the wheel of the ship, stood the infamous captain of the Black Pearl: Jack Sparrow. I'm sure you all know what he looks like, so there's no need for a description. So, there stood Jack Sparrow . . . I mean, there stood Captain Jack Sparrow, holding his compass in one hand and the wheel in the other, grinning his toothy grin, as always.
And then suddenly, Mr. Gibbs - an old man and a friend of the captain's, who was also part of the crew - came up to the ship's wheel and beckoned to the man.
"Jack," Gibbs started, "we've got a stowaway,"
"Stowaway, eh?" asked the captain. "Well," he sighed, as though it was an everyday thing. "bring him up 'ere. Best get it over with before anythin' else happens,"
Mr. Gibbs wrung his hands nervously. "That's just it, Jack," he said. "It ain't a him,"
Now Jack looked mildly surprised. "We got ourselves 'nother woman?" Mr. Gibbs nodded.
"Anna Maria was bad enough," whispered Jack, more to himself than Mr. Gibbs.
"I heard that, Jack!" came a shout from one of the masts.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Is there ever a time when she don't 'ear me?" Then his eyes fell back to Mr. Gibbs. "Ah, about that . . . woman," he said the word with much distaste. "Why don't we go down tah meet 'er? Jus' ye and me," upon seeing the reaction on Mr. Gibbs face, Jack added, "Ye know how these sailors get, with their superstitions and all. Don't wanna upset none o' 'em, they'll have me land this ship in the next port, they will."
Mr. Gibbs nodded in agreement, and together, he and Jack went down to the lower deck.
"She'll be right in 'ere, Jack," said Mr. Gibbs, pointing towards a closed door. "By the way," he added, "you seem more sober than usual. What happened to all your drinkin'?"
"Ah," Jack shook his head mournfully. "Ran outta rum yesterday. Awful thing, havin' all the rum gone. Asked Marty if there was any in the cargo hold an' he said there wasn't none,"
Mr. Gibbs looked confused. "But Jack, there's whole crates full of rum here, in this room. It's where I found the stowaway!"
Jack growled, "That woman's bin stealin' my rum! And I'll make Marty walk the plank; tellin' me it's all gone! Shoulda checked, he should've,"
Mr. Gibbs didn't say anything, but he reached out and opened the wooden door to their right. It was dark inside, with only a single lantern hanging in the far corner. But the light from its flame revealed exactly what Mr. Gibbs had said: crates full of bottles and bottles of rum. Jack's eyes abruptly widened and a huge smile plastered his face. He ran over to the first crate in sight, pulled out a bottle in each hand, uncorked one, and gulped it down as fast as he could. He was done in a matter of a minute, opened the other one, and began drinking it's contents, as well.
"Slow down, Jack," said Mr. Gibbs, though he was grinning. "Drinkin' it that fast'll rush all the blood to your head!"
Jack neither heard nor cared and was just about done with the second bottle. He grabbed another, but this one he drank slowly and leisurely, already having drunk his fill for the twenty-four or more hours that he had missed of drinking rum.
"Eh, Jack?" questioned Mr. Gibbs. "Ain't you gonna deal with the stowaway?"
Jack looked a bit confused. "Wha-? Oh, oh yeah," he said, shaking his head a little. "Aye, Gibbs, I am. Now, tell me, w'ere's the little scoundrel who snuck on me Pearl?"
"Right here, she's right here!" exclaimed Mr. Gibbs, dragging someone out from the shadows. Jack furrowed his brows, took the lantern off the peg and brought it closer to the body so he could examine the face.
"What is this, Gibbs?" asked Jack. "This ain't no woman, it's a . . . a . . . little girl!"
And indeed it was a little girl. A small girl who couldn't have been more than twelve. She had light brown hair with a few blond-ish streaks in the front, a small, pale face with a light dusting of freckles, and full pink lips. Her eyes were closed, but they were framed by long brown eyelashes and she had a small, cute, little nose.
Mr. Gibbs looked at her more closely. "Well, I s'pose she's a bit small to be a woman, but she's still a girl. And they're all bad luck,"
"She's dead," said Jack. "Or asleep," he shrugged and took another swig of rum. "Why don' ye wake 'er up?"
"Aye," said Mr. Gibbs. "I'll try me best." He cleared his throat, grabbed the girl's shoulder with one hand, and gently slapped her face a few times with the other hand. When that had absolutely no affect, he turned her face to the side, bent close to her ear, opened his mouth, and screamed at the top of his lungs, "WAKE UP, YOU BLOODY WOMAN!"
Jack choked on his rum and spit it out all over Mr. Gibbs. He covered his ears and said, "What are ye tryin' tah do, Gibbs? I thought we weren' s'posed tah let ev'ryone know she was 'ere!"
Mr. Gibbs grinned sheepishly, "Sorry 'bout that,"
"She still ain't awake," said Jack. "I say she's dead an' if she don' come to by nightfall, throw 'er overboard,"
Mr. Gibbs looked horrified. "But Jack, what if she's alive! Throwin' a sleepin' person overboard isn't right. It's says so in the Code, and you gotta respec' the Code, they're the rules,"
"They're more like guidelines," muttered Jack. "All righ', I got a solution. This'll wake 'er up no matter what if she ain't dead,"
Jack lifted his half-empty bottle of rum and poured it all over the girl's face. She spluttered a bit, then sat up and began coughing.
Jack grinned, "Told ye it'd work!" Then he looked down at the empty bottle and added, "Waste o' rum, though,"
Once the girl got over her coughing fit, she stared long and hard at the two men. Mr. Gibbs was about to ask who she was, when the girl spoke up.
"Jack!" she exclaimed. "And Mr. Gibbs! What happened to the both of you?"
Mr. Gibbs and Jack exchanged a glance.
"Excuse me, luv," began Jack. "But do ye even know who I am?"
"Why, of course," answered the girl. "You're Jack,"
Jack shook his head, "No, no, no," he said. "I'm not jus' Jack; I'm Cap-" "Captain Jack Sparrow," finished the girl. "Are we on the Black Pearl?" she asked.
Jack looked at her through narrow eyes. "An' jus' what do ye know abou' the Black Pearl?" he asked her suspiciously.
"Everything!" she exclaimed. "I've been on this ship so many times, I know it from top to bottom," she said proudly.
Jack raised a dark eyebrow. "Bin on 'ere that long, eh?" he asked.
Mr. Gibbs spoke for the first time in the girl's presence. "Who are you? How long have you been hiding out in here?"
"Who am I?" the girl repeated dumbly. "Why are you asking that for, Mr. Gibbs? You've known me all my life. Both of you have," she said.
"If we've known you all your life, then how come we don't know your name? Or haven't even seen you before?" asked Mr. Gibbs. "And how'd you get here?" he added as an afterthought.
The girl looked strangely at the man. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Mr. Gibbs, but I assure you, I'm not fond of it. And if you must know again, my name's Rebecca," she answered.
Jack was impressed with her attitude. The was acting more mature than her age. She had a lot of spunk, perfect for being a pirate. He recognized that kind of attitude, it seemed remotely familiar, but he couldn't place it. Come to think of it, she looked familiar.
"I don't know how I got here, actually," the girl went on in that same mature way as before. "One minute, I was sitting on my bed, reading a delightful little book, and the next minute, I wake up here," she looked down at her dress, which was now soiled by a dark liquid. She gingerly smelled it. "Covered in rum!" she finished. Then she turned towards the captain. "I see you've been drinking as usual, Jack. Did I fall asleep? Did you take me out my room? Are my parents here? And what am I doing down here, with the cargo?"
The girl was definitely smart, you couldn't deny that.
"Yes," answered Jack "ye did fall asleep; no, I did not take ye outta yer room; I don' know who yer parents are and I don' know what yer doing down 'ere. Oh, an' I don' know who ye are, although' ye look really familiar, luv,"
The girl was outraged; she stood up to her full height, put her hands on her hips, and looked down at the two men who were squatting on the floor, where she had been a second ago.
"Of course you know my parents, Jack! What's wrong with you?!" she shouted.
Jack stood up, as well, towering over the rambunctious little girl. "I think the question is, luv," said Jack. "What's wrong with ye. 'Cause I don' know any couple who's got a little girl named Rebecca and I'd think I'd know if I'd knew ye,"
"Eurgh!" exclaimed Rebecca, jumping up and down. "Jack, I think you've had too much to drink! I know you know my parents and I know you know me! I've around you my entire life, and I know you've known my parents since before I was even born!"
Jack was a bit panicked; he didn't know how to handle children, it had never come up, with being a pirate and all. Besides, this girl had a mean temper and she seemed determined enough to do anything. Somehow, that seemed very familiar . . .
"Calm down, luv. Calm down," said Jack, holding his hands out in front of him. "I didn' mean tah upset ye, but I swear I don' know yer -"
But Rebecca cut him off. "Are you telling me you don't know Elizabeth and William Turner?" she asked, her arms crossed against her chest and a smirk playing on her lips.
Jack was flabbergasted; he hadn't seen the two people she was talking about in a little over a year, when he had first left Port Royal.
" 'Course I know Will an' Elizabet', but what do ye know abou' them?" he asked, once again suspicious of the girl.
Rebecca unfolded her arms and sighed deeply. "Ja-ack!" she exclaimed. "Stop being mean! I know lots about them because they are my parents!!" For a full minute, Jack was shocked. Then, when he finally composed himself, he said, "They're yer parents, eh?" When Rebecca nodded, he continued. "Well, I don' think that's possible, 'cause fer one, they're not married, two, they don' have a daughter, an' three, yer too ol' tah be they're daughter!"
Rebecca opened her mouth to speak, but then changed her mind and closed it. Then she asked something else. "What year is it?"
Jack look surprised by her seemingly irrelevant question, but he answered her anyway. "It's 1695, but what's that got tah do with any o' it?"
Rebecca leaned back against the crates and propped her cheek up oh her hand. "Well," she said, "that's curious,"
"What?" asked Mr. Gibbs, who hadn't spoken in a while. "What's curious?"
"What's curious is the fact that I wasn't born until 1698," said Rebecca.
Jack snorted, "If ye were born in 1698 than what are ye doin' in 1695?" He obviously thought this just some sort of weird, twisted joke.
"That's exactly what I was wondering," said Rebecca, without noticing that Jack wasn't serious. But she was serious. She really had been born in 1698.
"Jack," Rebecca looked up at the pirate, "you've got to take me back!"
"Take you back?" he repeated. "I can't take ye back, I don' know where ye came from, and even if I did, I don' know ye, so yer outta luck," Jack turned to walk away, but then called over his shoulder, "Gibbs, take 'er up to the top deck an' drop 'er off at the nearest harbor,"
Jack started walking up the wooden steps when something grabbed his leg. He turned to find Rebecca clutching him, a frown on her face and tears welling up in her eyes.
"Jack! You can't just leave me! I have to find my mum and dad! I have to go back home! Don't you believe me? Don't you recognize me? I'm Rebecca!" she exclaimed. "Rebecca Turner!"
"Rebecca Turner?" questioned Jack. He turned to look at the small girl and he suddenly realized why she looked so familiar. "Ye look jus' like Elizabet'," he murmured. "But ye've got Will's eyes,"
"I know, that what you've always told me, Jack," said Rebecca.
Jack thought things over. Perhaps she was telling the truth.
"What year did ye come from, then?" he asked.
The girl smiled, "Does that mean you'll help me get back?" she asked.
"No, I jus' asked ye what year ye were from," said Jack, and Rebecca's face fell again. "But maybe we can figure this out," he added, seeing that she was about to cry.
"Oh, Jack! I knew you'd believe me!" she exclaimed. "After all those stories you've told me about the curse that was on the Black Pearl and how you escaped off that island twice and how you rescued my mum and dad singlehandedly from Barbossa; I knew you just had to believe me!"
"I told ye that, did I?" asked Jack. It definitely seemed like something he'd do.
"Yes, you did. In 1710, that's year I came from. Jack, you've got to take me to my parents. Maybe they know something about how I got here. If they don't . . . then I guess we'll have to find out anyway," Rebecca said.
Jack hesitated for a moment, but then said, "We'll have to take ye upstairs an' make sure the crew doesn' have a fit. They're always goin' on abou' those superstitions, ye know," explained Jack.
Rebecca gave him a huge grin and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you!" she squealed. "You've always been my hero, Jack, but now I love you even more!"
Jack awkwardly patted her on the back. "Uh, okay then," he said, "best get movin',"
When they were almost up the entire flight of steps, Jack suddenly called, "Oy! What happened tah Gibbs?"
Coming back down, they saw that Mr. Gibbs had passed out on the wooden floor; an empty crate and a dozen empty bottles surrounded him. Jack shook his head, "Sometimes, I swear that man drinks more rum than me! And that's sayin' something!"
~*~
A/N: So, how was it? Hopefully not too bad. Please leave me a review and tell what you think. Should I continue? I know it's sort of short, but I just wanted to what kind of reaction I would get before I post up a bunch of chapters. I don't have them type, so they might take a bit, but please stay with me, and nice reviews always talk writers into typing faster . . . *wink, wink* *hint, hint*. LoL, but really, if you have any suggestions or ideas, please share them with me, I'd be more than happy to hear them.
Oh, and I picked the year to be 1695 randomly, because all this is supposed to take place in the 17th century, which means the 1600's. Also, I know the name's supposed to be spelled 'Anamaria' according to the script, but I like it better 'Anna Maria' so that's how it's going to be for this fic. Thanks!
~*Kaitlyn*~