~Dead Man's chest: The other way~
~Chapter 1: Clarity~
A man was punched twice in the stomach by a large assailant as two others held his arms. The woman were all being held and groped by random men, others leering and planning on how to get them away from their current clients.
The tavern was buzzing tonight and for once, Abigail felt like she'd actually give up.
She sat alone in the corner, a few groups of fighting fists bumping into her table, but no one troubling her. She knew she was invisible for now and collected her thoughts that way.
Upon arriving in Tortuga, were she'd been many times before, she'd set upon a disguise for herself. Gathering what she could and clothes of such a fashion that she recognised her father' crew would wear, she bound her chest, used women's make-up to thin out her lips, tied back her long hair and stuffed some rolled up tights down the front of her trousers (she wasn't sure it was necessary but wanted to be sure) and finally ventured out.
She'd been to various taverns and pubs in the crowded town, narrowly missing out on various fights and scuffles that seemed to start at every step she took. At one point, her disguise worked so well, two wenches ended up fighting over her, squabbling about wanting such a young and handsome lad for the night.
"Bloody men." Abigail commented quietly as she spotted yet another fight break out, one man getting a bottle to his face and ending up sprawled on the floor, a few of his dirty and rotted teeth fall out around him.
"Mr. Gibbs! If you'd be so kind to begin!" A man yelled to the side of her and she immediately recognised it.
That think dreaded hair.
Those dirty, yet well kept clothes.
That rough English voice which many woman were charmed by (but not her).
She sat and watched Captain Jack Sparrow strolling back and forth as he observed the line-up of men, all signing up to be part of his ship. She pulled her hat low and was so busy focusing on what was happening only a short distance from her table, she didn't notice the man step towards her and block her way of exit. It was only when his hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her hard off that table, pulling her behind him did she finally react to what was happening.
"What are you doing?! Get off of me!" She yelled and struggled the best she could, surprised that she managed to pull away from the man quickly.
The great big ugly buggar merely turned towards her, surprised at her simple escape and looked set for another go at her. His dirty hands reached out towards her and she used everything she knew to stop him.
What no one but her and her father knew, was that she was very skilled with the blade. The cutlass at her side wasn't just for show. She was taught when she was eleven and had sworn to practise every morning for the rest of her life. And she did just that.
As he came towards her, she unsheathed her sword and dodged the man who barrelled towards her. Just as he came back, she raised the blade and hit the man squarely on the head with her blade. She turned to see a few others approaching her, their hands already pulling out their own swords and clearly showing whose side they were one. Actually, it was never always a case of sides: some men just really liked a fight.
Getting into her stance, she placed one foot behind the other, keeping herself on balance as the first man attacked.
With the count of one two, she hit his sword away from his body easily and used her blade to cut the man across the arm. He bent over and she pushed him the rest of the way, the man instantly falling into the side of a table and clutching at his injured arm.
The second and third came together, thinking that two on one would soon get rid of their opponent. She saw the gap and ducked as the joint blades came down, crashing against one another and hitting thin air to hit the ground.
She skilfully rolled and spun around as she stood, kicking one of the men firmly up the backside and toppling him head first into a group of men. With the other, he straightened up and turned just in time so that his face came in contact with her fist. He fell over, definitely unconscious as he lay on the floor and she realised he'd be nursing a bruised cheek tomorrow.
She took a sigh of relief as one group in the far corner let out a roar of approval at her small show. However, it wasn't completely over she realised when a blunt object hit her in between her shoulder blades and she fell to the floor, dazed and in pain.
"You're coming with me boy!" A rough voice rang in her ears and a sharp tug at her pony-tailed hair gave her the sign that her hat had come off.
She was dragged through the tavern, her feet barely managing to keep up with the long strides of the man in front of her.
Soon enough, she was pulled outside and the sharp tug propelled her forward and her body impacted against an alley wall, her face taking the brunt of the impact. She didn't even have time to turn as the weight of the man was pressed into her back, crushing her body further into the wall.
"Stop! Get off!" She called, the binding around her chest already tight enough, was now loosening at the back due to the extra push.
"Hold still boy, this shan't last long if you're good!" The man yelled against her ear and quickly set to work.
Abigail knew instantly what he wanted when his hands flipped up the back of her jacket and pulled at her shirt.
"No...No! Please, no, I can't-MMM!" She was stopped halfway through her protests as a large hand covered her mouth and part of her nose, the smell of alcohol, tobacco and something she didn't want to know, evident on his hands.
"Bite down and I'll make it twice as painful for you." He hissed against her ear and his other hand dipped below the waistband of her trousers as he moved her shirt out of the way.
Abigail tried to struggle, but he just ground harder against her, the pain of the brick work rubbing against her cheek and threatening to crush her skull if it wasn't for the hand around her mouth holding her. Her jaw was already began to ache with the amount of pressure on it and she whined and bit on her tongue to stop herself from crying as she felt his hand clasp around one of her buttocks.
"Smooth. I think you'd make a good-uh!" The man behind her stilled in his actions and not a second later, he fell away from her, as if being tugged.
"I fancied a fight this evening and I got one. Pick on someone who can fight back, you sodomite." A voice, just as rough as any other sailors spoke out, but Abigail instantly knew it. Turning around, her back pressed against the wall, she gasped as she watched 'her' Jamie Norrington, stand over the man who was now on the ground below him.
The man said something and scurried away, but Abigail was far too busy watching Jamie.
He still wore his clothes and wig, but it was as if he'd never taken them off, not even when it appeared he'd been in many fights and thrown out into the mud from many taverns.
He now had a rusty old sword, his other one having been left in port royal after his resignation and disgrace. His thick brown hair was visible underneath his matted and crazed wig which sat beneath his hat. She'd never liked it that much, but now, it just looked ridiculous.
"Don't say thank you." His voice interrupted her wondering eyes and she realised she'd been silent too long.
"Th-thank y-," she was cut off as he half turned to her, his eyes red and his face so different.
"Buy me another round and we'll call it even." He glared at her, and she realised he was out of his head on rum. His face, although definitely still handsome, was covered in dirt and it was clear he hadn't shaven in a while.
Slowly, she approached him and kept her head down, a part of her not wanting him to recognise her. Not just yet. She wanted him to remember who she was.
They entered the bar again, Abi quickly readjusting her shirt and tucking it back in, noting how Jamie watched her from the corner of his eye.
They got to the bar and indeed, she ordered him whatever he wanted (a whole bottle of rum) and she just watched him, swig most from the bottle.
After a hearty mouthful, he quickly offered her some, which she declined.
"Your loss. And next time, don't turn your back on the big guys. I've done that to many times and ended up in pig swill." He swigged down another mouthful and gazed at her.
"You...you look familiar boy."
Abigail quickly gazed at him from beneath her lashes, making sure to not turn to him completely.
"Indeed we...we met once during port royal sir." She didn't exactly lie to him, but she knew he'd recognise her sooner or later if she dropped careful hints.
Jamie seemed ready to turn to her and say something, but one word from the man next to him seemed to catch his attention.
"Sparrow?!" He turned away from her towards the man and she could only watch as things seemed to get out of hand from then on.
She watched as Jamie asked to join the crew of the Black Pearl, before revealing what exactly he wanted to do to Sparrow.
A massive confrontation broke out, Jamie hell bent on either killing Jack Sparrow or having a good fight to go out to.
At one point, she broke a bottle over a random drunkards head, having him pushed into her after he attack Jamie.
'Bastard.' She thought and pushed his limp and heavy body off of her, quickly scuttling away and into the corner where she bumped into a familiar man.
"Careful there son, this isn't your fight!" Mr Gibbs pulled her back by her arm, keeping her by his side.
Abi turned to him and an idea struck in her head.
"Sir...are you still looking for more volunteers?"