A/N: So far, this is a one shot. To continue it, I'd have to incorporate the characters into the first film, and I hate it when the movie's changed around. I got this idea from wondering why Jack decides to go to Port Royal, of all places. Because it's not chance, it's Captain Jack Sparrow we're talking about here. I might continue it if I have more ideas about it though. I have plot ideas for later on that I don't know if I'll use. But yeah. On with the show!
DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything from the films you recognize.
CHAPTER ONE: The Plot Thickens…
He sat there in the dark. Silent, at the edge of the bed. Just by his silhouette she could tell he was a grimy, sadistic bastard of a man. The way he hunched over like a preying panther, waiting to pounce upon the both of them. He didn't know she was awake; he would have done something by now.
Afraid, but not enough to lose her wits, she kept her breathing even. She didn't move, but she could still feel the tight metal cuffs that held her wrists to the bedpost. She could hear the soft breathing of her companion next to her, so close she could feel the other's body move up and down. The cold breeze from an open window easily penetrated her thin shift. Though the walls, she could hear breaking glass and raucous yelling. The air smelled like stale alcohol.
She almost jumped when the man stood. He hovered over her for a long while, but she knew he couldn't see that her eyes were open. There was no light in the room save for a crack between the curtains to her left, and it was just moonlight at that. His wavy greasy hair swung slightly as he leant over her in indecision. Her heart quickened. His face came so close she could practically smell the rancor emanating from him. She squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to keep her breathing even. Suddenly, it was gone and her eyes shot open (she felt the air change and opened her eyes quickly?).
He had walked away towards the sliver of moonlight that cut across the floor. He reached out towards it as if to pet it, his fingers softly caressing the air. She lifted her head slightly, fascinated. Closer, closer his fingers came, his body subconsciously leaning forward. And then- her eyes bugged out and her head thunked against the headboard quite audibly. He turned around towards her slowly, fully stepping into the moonlight. Her breathing quickened in horrified gasps; she couldn't move her eyes from his twisted smile. "I thought ye might be awake, missy."
She heard her companion stir and wake. "What…" She must have seen him too, because she let out a bloodcurdling scream.
"My god, your wrists…" Leda, her companion, looked down at her friend in concern.
"They'll be fine." She shivered. They were crouched in a dirty alleyway in the middle of the night, naught but a few blocks from… them. They were both leaning into each other in a crouch, held each other's arms at the elbows. Leda's breeches were bloodstained and torn, but her shirt had received the most damage. A large tear revealed a ragged cut above her left breast and some bruising.
Leda shivered too, and looked down at the bloody spider webs oozing from her friend's wrists onto her arms and breeches. "I… I can't remember your name… they hit my head…" Her shivers turned into convulsions. "And I think your wrists are shredded… you'll lose all of it…"
"No worries, just need to wrap them in something." She smiled sadly, couldn't stoop her teeth from chattering. "I can't remember my name either, Leda. …Could… could you rip a couple long strips from the bottom of my shirt?" She pulled it out from her breeches. There was a lot of fabric, as it was quite big for her. "My hands… they're throbbing like bee stings… otherwise I'd…" She sagged, putting her full weight on Leda, who lowered her to the ground slowly.
"No need to explain yourself to me," Leda smiled shakily at her and her friend returned it. She took the shirt and ripped off two long strips. "I'll tie it tightly, but we don't want to cut off blood flow to the hands." They nodded at each other, and as the girl held out her hand, Leda faltered and choked out a sob.
"Now's not the time for that. We have to live through the night." Her voice was ragged, and the arm she held out shook. Leda nodded and caught it, a bit too strongly. Her friend hissed in pain and Leda sent her an apologetic look as she slowly wrapped her wrist and part of her hand. The girl shook a bit harder, but didn't make another sound, not even when she tied it and started on the other one.
Leda finished and sat back, staring at her friend gasping in the shadows. "What are we going to do? How the hell are we going to get away from people like that? You don't, we'll… " She took her head in her hands. "Sorry, sorry… so, this is shit, so shit…"
The girl put her hand on Leda's shoulder. "We can't worry about it. We can't sit here in fear that they'll find us. We can't let the fear take us over. Look at me, we just have to take first things first, right?" Leda looked up at her, eyes full of tears unshed. "Let's focus on the things we can do, the little things, and then we'll work out, right?" The ghost of a hopeful smile was on her lips, and Leda returned it with fervor. "Right, first let's focus on standing up." That brought out a chuckle from Leda, and the girl managed to stop shaking.
Using each other as crutches, they both managed to stand, though unsteadily. "What next?" Leda looked to her friend, grabbing her left arm and putting it over her shoulder to steady her, careful not to touch the girl's bandaged wrist.
"Right… I… think we both need stitches…" She rolled her eyes as she felt Leda stiffen. "You'll need to get over that stupid fear of yours." Her voice grew stronger as she took authority. "Hmm… we need to look at least slightly respectable." She slowly moved her arm from Leda's shoulder and tucked her shirt back into her breeches, tightening the sash she was using as a belt shortly after. She unrolled her sleeves to cover her bloody arms, and did the same for Leda. She paused to look at Leda, who was staring at her in confusion. Seeing the bloodstain on the front of her pants, she moved Leda's sash to where it covered it and then looked up to her ripped shirt. She tried to tie the ripped shirt together but there wasn't enough fabric so she resorted to pressing the shirt against the clotted cut on her friend's chest to make her shirt stay up.
Leda was getting annoyed. "What do we need to look presentable for?" She batted her friend's hand away.
"We can't look like we've just been beat to bits, we have to blend in with the crowd." She looked around towards the edge of the alleyway behind them, where the shadows ended and the partying drunks swayed and laughed with bullets flying around their heads and whores following them around like sick puppies.
"Why do we need to blend in? Can't we just sneak away?"
"No. We need to find something sharp for use as a needle, and alcohol to clean out our wounds." She looked up at Leda. "Unless you want us to die from infection. Which I know you don't. So we need to fit in. No one will look at us twice as we sidle in and steal a couple drinks." She had a determined look in her eye that made Leda gulp. "But we need hats to hide our hair. Don't want more men following us." Leda nodded and started to shake, but gulped it all in at a pat on the arm from her friend.
They edged to the end of the alleyway. Leda swiped a straw hat from a man sprawled half in the alley, probably sleeping. She wisped her dark hair into a high bun before pulling it onto her head. As they walked out, the other girl confidently lifted a tricorner hat from a mumbling passerby and placed it on her head as if it had been hers the whole time. Leda tried to follow her example and pretended she was out on an evening stroll. The girl lifted a man's jacket from the arms of his whore who protested, but quieted when the girl said softly, "don't think you'll be needing it." She tossed it to Leda, who gratefully slipped it on to hide her bloodied shirt.
They came up to a tavern, and by this time Leda wouldn't have known her friend was in pain if she hadn't just tied up her wounds moments ago. She carried herself into the building as if she owned the world, Leda shuffling in quietly. Her friend tipped her hat to the bartender as she swiped a grey overcoat from a stool and slipped it on. She smiled back at Leda and tilted her head up confidently, beckoning Leda to do the same. They looked down their noses at the crowd.
The girl surveyed the scene before her. It was much louder than the last place they'd escaped from, and there were a lot more people, most of them piss-ass drunk or near it. She sidled forward, dodging a brawl. Making sure Leda was behind her, she headed toward the darker end of the room, where she spied a sleeping man with a loose hand around a bottle filled with rum. She looked back at Leda and nodded at the man. Leda smiled timidly and they were off.
The girl stared to sway slightly and grabbed onto Leda's shirtsleeve as they neared the man. He was sitting at a table in the dark, legs propped up on the table, tricorner hat pulled over his eyes. They walked by as if headed towards the door to the rooms upstairs, and she casually reached out to grip the bottle, barely even looking at it as they continued on their way.
She'd barely lifted the bottle from the table when a hand grabbed her wrist, yanking her back almost onto the table. She lost her grip on Leda, who looked back in horror.
"Now that's not nice," the man said, pointing a ringed finger at her. It was quite obvious he had not been asleep at all.
The girl remained silent, but Leda wouldn't have it. "Please- let us be-"
The man pushed back his hat to reveal dark eyes and a gold-ridden smile. "When you wouldn't let me be? I'm the one you tried to steal from, remember?" His grip tightened on the girl's wrist, causing her to hiss in pain.
Leda was close to tears. "You're hurting her-"
"Leda!" She looked at Leda angrily.
Leda's eyes widened as she realized her mistake and so did the man's. "'Her'? What-" The anger in his face was replaced with confusion when he felt the girl's wrist dampen and, with his other hand pulled her shirt sleeve up to her elbow to reveal blood running down her arm. He let go in shock and the girl leaned on the table heavily, letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
"Bloody hell…" He stared at her arm, then his hand, now bloodied.
Leda tried to lift her friend from the table in vain and looked at the man, shaking slightly. "Please sir… we just needed it to disinfect…cuts… please don't get us in trouble… I… W-we…" She was starting to shake.
The girl looked up from where she'd been staring at the table. "We'll just be on our way then. Ta." She heaved her upper body off of the table and leaned heavily on Leda's arm.
"Sit." The man's voice was rough. His face was in the shadows; it seemed he was still looking at his hand. When they didn't answer, he looked up. "I won't get you in trouble." Leda looked at her friend, who nodded. Leda stared at her for a moment, then sat down on the other side of the table. The other girl slowly walked over and sat down across from him, folding her arms.
The man leaned forward and cleared his throat. "Did I, ah, reopen something?" One of his hands spun in the air idly as he spoke. He looked into the girl's eyes apologetically.
"It was already open." Her voice was soft. Obviously female.
"Ah." He leaned back in his chair almost to the point of it tipping, his dark eyes shifting curiously from one girl to the other. The girl sitting directly across from him was staring at him determinedly, whereas the other was inspecting the wood of the table. "May I inquire as to the names of the two lasses who almost commandeered me only bottle of rum? I assume you're Leda?" He pointed lazily at her. Leda looked up at him and nodded. His eyes turned to the other girl expectantly.
She looked at him thoughtfully, which caused him to raise his eyebrows and prompt her to speak by wagging a hand at her. "You can call me Charlie. And I assume you're Captain Jack Sparrow." Leda looked at her in confusion.
"Captain. Captain Ja- What? Oh, yes yes! Captain! That's me!" His chair leaned back too far this time and he had to grip the table for support. Leda stifled a giggle, causing Charlie to smile.
"Now that we all know each other, I have a proposition for you, Captain." Leda looked about to say something, but was silenced with a look from her companion.
"And what, dear lass, might that be?" He looked at her skeptically, the blood on his hand forgotten.
"You have what we want," she looked pointedly at the bottle after he wiggled his eyebrows at her, "and we know all about what you want."
He scoffed. "Lass, bedding-"
"The Black Pearl."
She had his full gaping attention. Leda's eyes were suddenly wide as saucers as she gulped, "He's-"
"Not now," Charlie said to her, still staring at the pirate.
Sparrow made to take a swig of his rum before remembering they wanted it. "Information?"
"Some of it is."
He raised his eyebrows at this. "I suspect you'll be wanting more 'n a bottle o' rum."
"We want guaranteed safety, rum, and a sewing needle. After we clean ourselves up, I'll be willing to talk."
He pondered her for a moment. "Agreed." He reached out a hand to shake, but she didn't take it.
"I want you to swear on the Black Pearl that you'll keep us safe."
They stared at each other. Finally, he lifted his head and looked at her down his nose. "That's… interesting. Alright then, I swear on she that is the lovely Black Pearl that I will keep you safe, even at the cost of me own life." They shook hands.
"Well then," he picked up the bottle of rum as he stood and looked over at Leda, who jumped. "Wha's with her?"
Charlie looked over at her in confusion and saw the look on Leda's face. "He's not one of them Leda." Leda calmed visibly. Charlie patted her on the shoulder and stood up slowly. "Where to, Captain?"
"I've a room upstairs, luv." He grinned cockily and, after placing his arms about both their shoulders, led them through a door and up some stairs into a dark and musty hallway. They walked to the third door on the left. Jack swayed slightly as he unhinged himself from them to dig for something in his jacket. With a small "Aha!" he whipped out a silverish key and twirled it in the air before placing it in the keyhole.
The room looked lived in, even for a tavern such as this. "Been lying in wait, have we?" Charlie smirked at him as she headed for the small table at the far side of the room. She pushed an old boot off of one of the chairs and practically collapsed onto it, leaning back and closing her eyes. Her hat slid off her head and fluttered to the floor. Leda sat down on the other chair slowly, watching Jack Sparrow's movements warily.
The pirate took off his effects and placed them on the edge of his ratty bed, but after a moment of beard twisting decided to take his pistol back. He looked toward the two girls as he set the bottle of rum on the table, swaying slightly. "You two stay the fort and I'll find a needle and such, savvy?" At Charlie's nod, he sashayed out the door, swinging it shut.
"What the hell is going on? And what kind of a name is Charlie?" Leda rapped her fist on the table when she was met with silence, causing Charlie to jump.
She sat up slowly, running a hand over her face. "Leda… I chose that name… well we're masquerading as men anyway, aren't we?" Her voice was tinged with anger. "And that man is our only way off this rock, believe me." She rubbed her forehead. "If you hit the table one more time and make my headache worse, I'll strangle you."
"Strangle me? I should strangle you! You just led us into the path of some pirate man, who knows what the hell his intentions-"
Leda jumped as the aforementioned pirate kicked the door open, arms laden with a small basin of water, another bottle of rum, and what looked like a small ball of string. Charlie looked at her pointedly and she sighed. She managed to get out a strangled "Thank you," as he placed the items on the table with a flourish.
"Well loves, I'd love to watch you clean each other up and all," Leda's eyebrows raised at this, "but I rather need my beauty sleep at the moment. Wake me when you're finished, eh?" Without waiting for an answer, he strode over to the far side of the bed (which wasn't actually very far away), and lay down with his back facing them after placing his hat next to his effects.
Leda sighed audibly and looked back towards Charlie, who had already unraveled the ball of string to find a needle in the middle. She shuddered, which caused Charlie to look up. "You don't have to watch me do it, you know," she said quietly. Leda nodded. "Is that cut on your chest the only deep one?" Charlie concentrated on getting the string through the eye of the needle.
"N-no…" When Charlie looked up, Leda pulled her hat off and moved her hair away to reveal a jagged cut near the hairline on the left side of her forehead.
"The pistol?" Leda nodded and looked away. With a knife she found on the floor, Charlie cut a section of the string then dipped it in one of the rum bottles. Wadding up a cloth, she soaked it in rum and, after scooting her chair close enough to her friend, set to dabbing at the wound.
Leda hissed in pain and screwed her eyes closed tight.
"Try thinking about something else, it lessens the pain." Charlie set to sewing it up.
"Do… do you think he's asleep?" Leda's voice was barely a whisper.
"Probably not. He'd be stupid to, really."
"Why? Doesn't trust us enough not to sneak out?" She shivered at the feel of the needle piercing her skin.
"Exactly. And from the way he reacted downstairs, there's no way he's letting us go without giving him information. There, that wasn't too hard, was it?" She tied the thread at the end and leaned back.
Leda touched her head tenderly, staring at the rhythmically rising and falling back of the supposedly sleeping Jack Sparrow. "And what is this information, exactly? What does he want with their ship? I don't know what you think we're doing, trusting someone that knows them, he could… he could… hurt us." Her voice had started to rise.
Charlie sighed impatiently. "Leda, do you seriously think that I would knowingly lead us into any danger?" Leda gripped the edge of the table fearfully and looked up at Charlie as she cleaned the blood above her breast with the cloth. "Leda, he's trustable. He is!"
Leda batted away the advancing needle and folded her arms. "How the hell do you know that?" She whispered heatedly. "How do you know he isn't some sadistic- thing-, like…" She gave an angry little huff.
Charlie looked straight into Leda's eyes. "He let go of my wrist. He realized he was hurting me, and he let go. Normal pirates in seedy taverns don't do that. If we had been caught by anyone else, we'd probably be dead in a gutter somewhere. Sorry," she said at Leda's slight gagging noise. Charlie lifted the needle again, and Leda acquiesced.
"What does he want with their ship?"
Charlie paused. "It's his ship. They stole it from him."
Leda knitted her brows in confusion. "You overheard them talking about it?"
"No… I don't remember how I know… I think I lost a lot of memories when they hit me over the head…"
"Well yeah, you don't even remember your own name." The pirate shifted in his sleep and they fell silent.
Charlie put the needle down when she finished. "Sorry the stitches are a bit jagged."
Leda smiled at her and shrugged, soaking the cloth with more rum, "Hey, it's thanks to you I don't have anything worse on me, right?" She dabbed it on a scrape on her arm. Leda looked up at her friend thoughtfully. "Charlie, I've never stitched anyone up before. Are you sure you can't do it yourself?"
"Well, I'd never stitched anyone before either, and I did fine. Just imagine you're sewing a piece of clothing." Charlie smiled at her and eased off her jacket, tenderly taking her arms out of the sleeves.
Leda gave a small gasp at the sight of Charlie's left shirtsleeve. It was stained with blood all the way up to the elbow, a souvenir from Jack's hard grip. "Don't worry Leda, it's dry." She peeled it slowly away from her arm, also stained. The cloth that was wrapped around her wrist and some of her hand was completely red.
"But it looks like you've lost so much blood…"
"Don't worry, I'll get it all back eventually." She tried to untie the knot of the bandage with little success. "Leda, could you help…?"
Her friend nodded and untied it, slowly unraveling the fabric. When Leda was down to the first layer, she noticed Charlie was shaking slightly. "Charlie… this is going to hurt, it's stuck to your skin because of the blood…" Charlie nodded for her to continue, staring at the floor. Leda tugged at it a little, causing Charlie to pull back involuntarily and give out a yelp. She hugged her arm to her chest.
"Oh god, Charlie, I'm so sorry…" Leda's voice sounded like she was crying, but Charlie couldn't open her eyes to check. She concentrated on breathing slowly as hard as she could, not noticing the pirate had woken up and sat down on the edge of the bed closest to her.
"You look pale, luv." She jumped and her eyes snapped open. He had the washbasin in his lap and was reaching out towards her swollen hand. He looked wide awake; she gave it to him shakily. "Miss Leda, you should get some rest," he gestured towards the side of the bed he had recently vacated without looking at her. Leda nodded, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket as she got up.
Charlie's body shook violently as he placed some cloth in the water. "Ssh, luv, I'll not hurt you." He smiled reassuringly at her as he held her hand and wrist over the water and proceeded to wring the wad of cloth out over it. She could feel his many rings against her knuckles. "How'd this happen to you, anyway?" He tried to get her mind off the pain as he slowly peeled the now sodden bandage off.
"I-iron shackles," she muttered, controlling her tremors slightly. "They ch-chained me to the-the…" she looked up at him, not wanting to finish the sentence, and he nodded.
He peeled the rest of it off and let the long strip fall to the floor. She looked at her wrist and saw the full damage for the first time. The skin didn't look cut; it looked ripped and was even torn from the bone at one part. Blood still oozed from various scrapes on the sides of her hand. The ripped skin was white and slightly wrinkly, as though she'd been in the bath for too long. "Looks dead," she muttered. She sat up suddenly, almost causing the water from the basin to pour into Jack's lap, but she didn't notice. She was staring at her hand, horrified.
Jack frowned at her as he let go of her hand and set the basin on the table, reaching for one of the bottles of rum. "It'll get life again."
"No, not that… it looks dead like him. Like Barbossa." Charlie stared transfixed at her wrist as Jack Sparrow stared at her, frozen in mid grab.
There was a sudden rapping at the door, and after a moment, Jack went to answer it. He opened it a crack, but the person outside had other ideas. "Jack Sparrow, what are you trying to hide?" The woman shoved against the door, hitting Jack square on the nose.
"Not hiding nothing!" He cringed at the look she gave him. "Not tonight, Scarlett. What're you doin', tryin' to bang me door down?" He ducked involuntarily, as if in anticipation of something.
"But we used to have so much fun… I miss you…" Her voice, thick with a cockney accent, was pleading.
Jack gave an exasperated sigh. "Well luv, if you put it that way…" he made as though to open the door, but instead slammed it shut and locked it. He strode back to Charlie smugly, ignoring the muffled screams and pounding on the door. Leda looked over to Charlie, who shrugged.
He snatched the rum from the table and took a swig, rubbing his slightly swollen nose. "To sleep luv," he gestured toward Leda, "you need it." Leda sighed and rolled over so her back was facing them.
Jack grabbed a chair and pulled it over so he was sitting directly across from Charlie, then held out his hand. Gingerly, she gave him hers, and he pulled it out so it was directly over the floor. Knowing what was coming, she bowed her head and clenched her mouth shut. As he lightly poured the liquid over her wound she shook, but managed not to cry out. He slowly rotated her wrist under the rum bottle. "Did Barbossa do this to you?" His voice was low, probably so Leda could sleep in peace.
"Yes... well, not the wrist part." Charlie found it hard to speak while her wrist felt like it was on fire. She pulled her still-bandaged hand up to her eyes to brush away tears.
"He may have put the cuffs on me, but I was the one who had a hard time slipping out of them."
"Must've been painful." He had finished with the rum and started to dab her wrist clean with a dry cloth.
"That wrist is more jagged because I knew what was coming." She stared at the floor. She felt him let go of her hand and she drew it to her chest.
After a few minutes, she looked up. Jack was holding the needle in front of his face, looking at it disgustedly. He jumped when he realized she was looking at him. "Apologies, luv." He reached out for her hand and she let him take it. Each time he put the needle into her skin he wrinkled his nose; Charlie would have laughed but for the horrid sensation the string gave her when it went through her sore skin. "Will he come looking for you?" He tied up the first of many stitches and started on the next one.
"No, he and his crew left a while before we tried to get away." She shuddered. "I heard them talking… said they were saving us for later…"
He paused in his stitching for a moment. "Why did they leave?"
She didn't speak for a while, instead choosing to stare at the now rum soaked floor. She looked up when he started to wrap up her wrist in a clean strip of fabric. When he finished, he repeated the question.
She sighed. "You know about the supposed curse on the Aztec gold, correct?"
"Aye." He took the washbasin back into his lap and grabbed her other hand.
"They spent the gold, all of it. Spent most of the last decade trying to get it back."
Jack thoroughly soaked her bandage and set to unraveling it. "I know the stories. Tell me something I've not heard."
"Well… if you believed in the curse, you'd know there was no real reason for them to stop at a port." She paused as he poured rum over the cuts and scrapes.
"So then why would they stop here?" He searched for a clean cloth to dry her wrist with, seemingly uninterested. When he found it, he waited for her to reply.
"They kidnapped Leda and I to… use… when the curse is lifted. Which means they must be close to finding them all. They all seemed pretty jovial about it; they know they're near, they can feel it." He picked up the needle and gestured her to continue as he tried in vain to put the string through its eye. She sighed and, taking the string from him, put it through.
"You overheard all this?" He looked at her suspiciously.
She raised an eyebrow. "As I'm sure you overheard, Captain, I can't really remember how I know anything." Charlie tapped her head lightly.
He nodded as he assumed the task of sewing up an especially jagged cut. "Know where they went?"
"The general direction, yes."
"Almost anywhere in the Caribbean can be construed as in 'the general direction', luv." He started stitching up another part of her wrist. "Could you specify?"
"…Do you believe in the curse, Captain?"
He paused and looked up at her. "No. And you're avoiding the question." He began on yet another cut.
She raised an eyebrow. "You lie." Her lip curled in a slight smile.
"Well, I am a pirate, which gives me a smidgen of leeway in the dishonesty area. However," At this he put up a finger to accentuate his point, "you, lass, cannot disagree when I say you are, in fact, deceptively dishonest, which makes me the lesser of two evils." He smirked.
"Oh? What draws you to that conclusion?"
He finished sewing up the last cut on her wrist before replying. "By oh so obviously dodging our earlier bit of banter that construed as to my dearest Pearl's whereabouts, you have revealed to me that what you know is little more than a bit of fluff."
She winced as he pulled hard on the string to tie a knot in it. "If I know so little as you think me to, then why would I have known to call your bluff on our 'bit of banter' about the curse?"
Setting the needle down in what was left of the string, he tore another strip from the bedsheet and wrapped her wrist in it. "Captain Jack Sparrow is not fool enough to fall into your little trap, luv."
"It's no trap, Captain. I already know you're bluffing, I don't need you to confirm it."
"And how would you be so confident of a thing such as that?" He was slightly miffed.
She merely smiled at him.
He leaned back and sighed. "Luv, I've helped ye fair and square, according to our agreement. Kindly inform me of what you're hiding, before I have to throttle your pretty little neck." He folded his arms stiffly.
"It's hard to believe that a man would not believe such a supernatural occurrence when said man has witnessed such a thing before."
Jack narrowed his eyes. "And what would lead a lass to believe said man has witnessed such an occurrence before?"
She stared back at him defiantly. "You and I both know the fog surrounding your ship has nothing to do with the pirates on it."
His eyes widened as he leaned back again, and, realizing he'd gone too far, flailed his arms and legs about trying to regain balance. Charlie grabbed an arm and pulled him towards her. He almost fell on top of her, righting himself at the last moment. Their heads were quite close, but Jack didn't pull away. A strange emotion flitted across his face as he examined hers. "That's an interesting observation, love." His breath smelled like liquor. "Where does the fog come from then, I wonder?" There was a calculating glint in his eyes.
She made to pull away, but he gripped her shoulder tightly. Almost subconsciously, her eyes drifted towards the edge of the bed, where his battered compass was perched precariously atop his scabbard. His eyes followed her gaze then snapped back, fiery.
She let out a small gasp and looked down to realize that her wrist was bleeding again and throbbing quite painfully from helping him up. He shook her slightly, but when Charlie looked up, Jack was looking down at her wrist. After a few moments he sighed and looked back up at her; the fire in his eyes had vanished.
He let go of her shoulder to lift her arm from her lap. She didn't pull away. "That won't do," he whispered. He unraveled the dampening bandage to reveal that the stitches hadn't come out, but had stretched a bit. Her skin, not liking this, was even more inflamed than before and bleeding slightly from the more jagged of the stitched up cuts across the top of her wrist. He wrapped it back up carefully. "Best not do much with your hands for the next couple of days, lass." He let go and she pulled away, shifting uneasily in her chair.
AN: This chapter's not finished, and I'm not sure I'm finished/happy with what's here, but if I don't post this soon then I'll never post it, and if I never post it I'll never get to a second chapter. So… comments would be appreciated . Any parts of it I should change? Does it even seem interesting enough for a second chapter (or the second half of the first one, haha)?