Hello there! Some of you might be surprised to find me updating this fan fiction yet here I am, updating away. I hope there might be folks still interested in reading and I know some of you might think it was wrong to leave it so long in updating and putting the story on permanent hiatus but I need that long break to get my head sorted. I was exploring my fan fiction account yesterday and started reading 'My Heart Lies With The Sea' and suddenly I was overcome with the desire to complete it. If you're still around then please read, if not, then it doesn't matter and I apologise deeply for having drove my reviewers away.

Oh and if you can't remember the story then maybe its wise to go back to the first chapter and read again.

Summary: Lady Brittany Pierce is kidnapped by cut-throat pirate Santana Lopez and fears she will never see her old life again. Can the beautiful Captain make her forget all she knows and embrace a new life? Will love bring them together? Pirate Brittana. AU

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

If you happen to see the star symbol by some of the pirate words then you may be able to find them here:

*Dabloon – a piece of gold

*Son of a biscuit Eater – a derogatory term indicating a bastard son of a sailor

My Heart Lies With The Sea

Part 2

Day 61

It was the morning sunlight beaming through the open window of the bedchamber that stirred Brittany from her dreams, but the full realisation of her new awakening kept her from drifting back towards the unconscious realm. The sharp tang of salt withered through the air, thick and heavy, and the sound of the waves crashing against the bottom of the ships structure was utterly hypnotic to the senses. The day felt bright, the cries of the seagulls were triumphant and booming. The swaying motion of El Tiburón Oscuro likened to a mother rocking her child, back and forth, back and forth and from its gentleness, drew a sigh of satisfaction from Brittany's lips.

Turning over, the young maiden felt the smooth sheets against her naked skin and remembered with a growing convulsion between her thighs what had occurred the night before. Captain Santana Lopez. Her lover. Yes. The being whom had taken her childhood and made her womanly and wanting. It was enough to send Brittany flush all over with desire. She had never felt such a swell of joy in her life, and now thinking back to their night of pleasure, with touches and shaking breaths, she snaked her hand across the bed to bring the Captain towards her.

Brittany grasped at sheets and opened her eyes with a groan to find Santana's side of the bed empty. There was a rousing of disappointment in the pit of her stomach and yet she understood that the Latina had more than likely stirred to work with her men, for the great ship could not function without her charge. With a weary sigh, the lady pulled herself up and out of bed. Her body was alive with aches and pains that she had never experienced before and she had to stretch to accommodate them. It was a feeling that told of her ravishment, of having being broken in by her new domineering lover. Brittany crossed the cold floor and spied herself in a small mirror that just backed up to the door of the room. Her cheeks were tinted with a light pink afterglow and her lithe body, covered with Goosebumps seemed more angular and feminine. There was a light in her eyes, a happiness that had never been there before. Brittany knew she could never know joy like this again and her only means of sustaining the feeling would mean being wherever Santana was.

With these thoughts burning through her mind, Brittany dressed swiftly, selecting a dark red gown from her assortment of dresses and attending to her make-up in the mirror with careful consideration. There was the need to look perfect. She wanted to appear as though she'd not just spent the night with Santana's hand between her legs. The ship groaned against the weight of a particularly large wave and she found herself smiling at the reflection in the mirror. El Tiburón Oscuro was had lost track of how long she had been here and yet it was as though it were an eternity.

With one last look in the mirror, Brittany pulled herself to her feet and prepared for the day ahead.

...GLEE.

The crew were working at full speed. Kurt and Puck were ascending the foremast, towering over the others that occupied the main deck. Will was to the right side of the ship (which Brittany had learnt was called starboard), the sound of his wooden leg clunking hard against the ground as he shouted order after order to be obeyed. Sam and Blaine were swabbing the forecastle deck, whistling a cheery tune amongst them and sharing the odd joke with guffaws of laughter. Everyone seemed to be in a merry mood, and signs of the other pirates ranging from Finn to Mike lifted Brittany's spirits and sent her heart reeling.

Someone's gaze was boring into the back of her head intently and Brittany turned on her heel to meet the dark pair of eyes that locked with her own from above. Santana was standing on the sterncastle, surveying her kingdom like a proud lioness. Her ebony hair whipped violently in the wind, and her caramel skin reflected up against the sun as if defying its natural beauty. Brittany's body trembled with yearning. This creature standing above her, queen of all she cast her sights upon, belonged to her.

Brittany made her way across the deck and as she did the Latina descended the ladder of the sterncastle. Their sights were set on one another, each smiling like shy children approaching to make friends for the first time. Brittany was aware of the weight in her legs, dragging her along and beating in time with the thumping of her heart. Santana looked just as satisfied as she, a jump in her gait and a certain fire in her body that had not been there the day before. When they reached each other there was silence for a moment as both women took the time to explore her lovers face with relish and then, as though they could take it no longer, Santana's hands had snagged around her waist, yanking her close. Lips descended on lips, thirsty. Brittany kissed Santana with vigour, nimble hands tangling into her locks of hair and pulling her flush against her satin dress. Santana's mouth was like heaven, plump and searching as her tongue invaded Brittany's space to find and conquer her tongue with a command of authority. Brittany gave in immediately, allowing herself to be dominated by the pirate who would take her again and again and again until she was a broken pure-bred.

Santana pulled back, nipping tenderly at the nape of Brittany's neck.

'You should still be in bed, waiting for my me,' she murmured.

'I can't wait all day for you,' replied the suddenly timid blonde, 'I would miss you too much.'

'And pray tell me fair lady, 'Santana chuckled, her thumb brushing along her lovers cheek, 'why you thought I'd take all day? I intended to be with you in an hour or two.'

'That's not soon enough,' Brittany said.

Santana reached down to cup the softness of Brittany's behind, 'what a fine rump you have! I remember clutching it last night. Makes me want nothing more than to sink my teeth into one of the cheeks and keep biting until you're crying in my mouth.'

Heat sprang to Brittany's face and she ducked her head, feeling sinfully bashful. Santana laughed and reach a finger up under her chin so they could look at one another. In her black eyes shone the light of dedication.

'You're so beautiful,' she whispered.

'As are you,' Brittany replied and she leant in to capture Santana's mouth to hers in a long languid kiss.

There was a sudden eruption of cheering, all manly and triumphant. The women broke apart to find the crew watching them with elated grins, clear approval written upon their faces. There was a mass of sudden chatter but it was hard to tell who was speaking as it all came at once.

'Ye be owing me ten dabloons.'*

'Grog tonigh' to celebrate the match of the Cap'n and Lady.'

'Aye, what a pleasin' sight!'

Brittany ducked her head into Santana's shoulder, pleased with the response but anxious that they knew she was now a deflowered woman. Santana's arm anchored in place around her waist and she stared down her men with a smug tilt of her eyebrow.

'Back to work you horny dogs or it's the plank for the lot of you!' Her threat was almost playful and empty of violence but the men immediately returned to the care of the ship, though their faces were broad with grins. Turning back to Brittany, Santana's voice was soft, 'go back to your quarter's for now and rest. I'll visit you before the sun sets.'

'Can't I stay?' Brittany whined.

'Not now while they're all still taking it in,' Santana said, nuzzling her nose, 'dirty minded the lot of them, especially Puck,' she turned to look at the young man who was still gazing down at them from the mass, 'good for nothing son of a biscuit eater.'*

Brittany sighed, understanding, 'fine. But come to me tired from work so you will have no fight when I try to please you.'

Santana laughed, 'you can please me all you like.'

Day 73

Brittany slipped into the role of Santana's lover with a delicate grace and the crew accepted it with an atmosphere of easiness, all happy with the arrangement. Her days were carefree, like the sea on a calm day. She would spend her time wandering the ship, speaking with the men but trying not to distract them from their work, or sometimes contenting herself with being within Santana's sights as she commanded her great vessel. Sometimes when the heat was too much she would sit in her quarters and sew or paint and pass the hours as patiently as was possible. Her nights were vastly different, riddled with heightened passion between the sheets. Santana always came to her, willing and ready. Together they would strip to their naked flesh and as the ocean rolled, so would their hips against one another. The kisses were fiery, wandering hands and entangled legs and high pitched feminine cries of pleasure that told of fantastic orgasms. Brittany enjoyed the taste of sea salt that stuck to Santana's skin as she lapped her tongue around her pert nipples or clasped her womanhood with needy fingers. Any thoughts of betraying God disappeared when Santana was on top of her. Santana was God.

Day 79

The sun was drifting below the horizon, casting a crimson glow upon the rippling waves. El Tiburón Oscuro was at peace, a great giant moving through the water with little speed. The majority of the crew sat together on the main deck and only a few kept busy at work. A tankard of grog was being passed around and Will was regaling them all with the story of how he had lost his leg to a shark over a decade ago. Many of the others had heard the story before but for Brittany it was a fascinating concept of man against predator and she hung on his every word.

'Snapped its jaws shut it did,' Will said dramatically, gazing around at his crew, 'and the pain! I'd be sure I was set for Davy Jones Locker.'

'Hush yerself,' Blaine turned to the older man, 'Brittany looks faint of heart with ye tale sir.'

Brittany broke free of her daze, realising that Blaine was speaking of her and shook her head with a smile, 'please don't stop. It's a fine story and scary too.'

Will chuckled, "perhaps yer shouldn't be listening,' he told her, 'it's a dark one.'

'What's this?' Santana suddenly broke into the circle of men, her proud boots moving across the surface of the deck with intention. She stopped at Sam's shoulder and took the tankard of grog from his hand, drawing a long drink before handing it back, 'perhaps it is not right to be telling frightening stories to my lass. She'll have nightmares.'

'Ah Brittany's one of us Captain,' Puck said, 'she's made of strong stuff.'

'Aye,' Finn nodded, 'she be a pirate.'

Santana turned her gaze to Brittany and the young woman sighed with a small bright smile.

'What do you say to the matter Brittany?'

Looking around at the crew before her, the young woman, born to the prestigious Pierce name felt something twist in the pit of her stomach. She was a fragile woman among strong men who could slash her throat within a second without a thought if she wished. How long she had been with them, she could not say but within her was the true concept of family that she had never understood when she'd been with her mother and father on land. Aware that an answer was still expected to the question she had been asked, Brittany took a deep breath and spoke.

'Can I still be a pirate and wear fine dresses?'

Silence ate up the space for a few brief seconds and then there was laughter, first from Puck and then Will, Blaine and Finn, Kurt and Mike and so on and so forth until the ship was alive with the infectious sound. Brittany turned to Santana who was watching her with a look she had never recognised before. It was striking.

Day 88

They lay there together, basking in a sheet of sweat, all breathiness. Head spinning as the last wave of pleasure faded from her tingling body, Brittany nestled her nose into the curve of Santana's neck as the Latina lay against the board of the bed, quiet as she too rode out the act of their love-making. Santana was often trapped in her own thoughts after they had finished and Brittany liked to allow her to return to the world when she was ready.

Her hands trailed up and down Santana's chest, fingers dancing just under the swell of her swollen breasts as she breathed in deeply. Santana was soft all over, which was odd considering that she had spent most of her life working as a man. Only her hands were coarse but Brittany liked that, they made her aware of every movement that they tracked over her skin and when they were inside her she knew she was under the care of someone experienced.

'Have you had many lovers?'

'Hmm?'

'Lovers?' Brittany said again, 'have you had many?'

Santana opened one lazy eye and pulled Brittany closer, 'what does it matter?'

'It doesn't,' Brittany replied, 'I'm just curious.'

'A small number,' Santana said.

Brittany rubbed her cheek against Santana's breast and kissed it lightly. There was a tightening in her stomach and she recognised it to be jealousy but her intrigue gripped her. 'How many exactly?'

'I don't remember how many but none of them are important now. We are here in this moment as one.'

Santana turned to Brittany and encased her arms around her waist to pull her close. Her sticky heat was against the blonde woman's thigh and Brittany could feel her want pumping like an erratic pulse into her skin. She trailed a light feathery kiss across her forehead and hummed a sea shanty underneath her breath and Brittany sunk into her.

'Did you care for them? The other women I mean?'

'Of course not,' Santana snorted, 'they were just girls to warm my bed.'

Something like pain jabbed in Brittany's gut and in disbelief she found herself shuffling out of the Captains embrace. Santana mewled unhappily at the loss of contact and she grabbed for Brittany who merely pulled away and got out of bed, strolling to the dresser to sit and pretend to pamper herself with make-up, still naked.

'What's wrong?' Santana asked, propping herself up on her elbow, the sheet wrapping just around the bottom of her body so that her torso was presented in all its glory.

'Nothing. I just worry that...'

Santana sighed, 'worry that what?'

Brittany shook her head. She didn't know what to say but she was scared of the answer if she asked.

'Brittany,' Santana said gently, 'what is it?'

No response.

'Brittany?'

'Do I...do I mean anything?' Brittany whispered, 'I...mean, do you care for me?'

Santana sat up and tutted in disapproval. The waves outside the window rushed up angrily into the window as if agreeing with the Captain's change of mood, and why should they not? The ocean belonged to her!

'You mean a great deal, you know that,' she exclaimed, 'I wouldn't have kept you for so long if you didn't.'

'Then why didn't it work out with them?' Brittany asked.

'Because they were wenches,' Santana said deliberately, 'prostitutes. I played with them for a night and a night only. I remember very little about them, I paid them to give me pleasure and then I left. I slept with a fair few women in my life and I only remember one or two of their names...Quinn...Sugar...Rachel,' her voice was void of any emotion, 'that's about it. A prostitute is not a lover. She is a toy.' Getting up, Santana walked towards Brittany with her hips swaying to and fro and her eyes hooded with lust, 'but you, my sweet lady, you are my lover. My only lover.' She took Brittany's hand and pulled her to her feet and then sat herself down in the chair that Brittany had occupied and spread her legs instantaneously. 'Down on your knees lover.' She ordered, 'I wish for you to please my pussy. She's aching for you.'

Brittany swallowed hard. What a very pretty pussy it was, and as she sampled it with her fingers, she felt its wet texture and hissed in approval. As she delved into it, she felt Santana's hand on top of her own, bringing her work to a halt.

Looking up in question, she watched as Santana's hand slipped up to her head, pulling it down to the space between her legs.

'I wish for you to kiss me, right here' she demanded, 'and when you're done I'm going to return the favour. Because you are my lover and I am yours.'

Brittany looked upon Santana's womanhood with a nervous whimper. She could smell her heated arousal and yet she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. She gazed upwards and found Santana's eyes on her, raw and unfaltering. The Latina's hands in her hair were tentative. The room felt startlingly hot.

'Brittany,' Santana said, authority ringing in her voice, 'put your tongue between my legs and please me.'

She wanted to! Oh she really truly wanted to so very much and yet she didn't know how. Brittany's hands were trembling and her knees rocked as though they would send the floorboards rattling. She had touched Santana down there before and entered her with her fingers, but this act seemed to reach a new level of intimacy. She understood why Santana wanted her there – as deliberate proof that she was more than a wench to her but putting her mouth there would mean a great deal more to their love-making...and Brittany wasn't sure how to take it.

Santana's hand drifted from the back of her head, to her cheek, 'my sweet one,' she crooned, 'I lov –'

The door being thrown open broke the women from their trance. Kurt stood in the doorway, heaving uncontrollably, a wild terrified glow in his eye. Brittany immediately reached for her robe to conceal her dignity and shuffled over to the far end of the room but Santana, all pirate, simply turned to the young man completely naked and raging like a bull.

'How dare you barge in and disturb us!' she shouted, 'you fucking bilge rat! You'd better have a good explanation for this!'

Kurt had the grace to look embarrassed but there was no mistaking the panic that seared through him.

'Will summons ye above ship Captain,' he said breathlessly, 'another ship approachin' and fast.'

Santana's anger switched and faded immediately, and then she was clicking her fingers. 'Collect my clothes and send news up to Will that I shall be with him shortly.' She had already found her shirt and was tugging it over her shoulders. Brittany watched her with interest, trying to disguise her own humiliation at nearly being caught and clutching her robe to her breast, never as brave as Santana to reveal herself. Kurt had already found the Captains discarded items and with a swift bow had left the chamber to obey orders.

Words evaded Brittany as she watched Santana dress. She could feel a bubble of emotions taking over as she tried to comprehend what had just gone on. Somewhere at the back of her mind was the concern that another ship was heading towards El Tiburón Oscuro but then it was strongly overridden by what had almost passed from Santana's lips before Kurt had disturbed them. Had she been about to confess her love?

Slipping on her last boot, Santana was Captain Lopez again. She retrieved her pistol and her sword from the bedside and fastened them to her belt with a satisfied smile. She then turned to Brittany and opened her arms in welcome, to which the blonde maiden sought with pleasure, moving into Santana's arms with a timid sigh.

'Stay here and don't leave this room' she ordered, 'there could be danger, especially if we are faced with another pirate ship.'

Brittany lifted her head from Santana's shoulder, 'but the crew is strong. They won't hurt you, will they?'

'You're so innocent,' Santana chuckled, 'and that is why I want you to stay put. I'll return to you when all is well.' She captured Brittany's lips once, then twice and was gone, through the door, leaving the air open with unanswered questions.

...GLEE.

A war was being waged, that much was true enough. First there had been silence after Santana had left the quarters and that had lasted for perhaps ten minutes in whole or perhaps just a little more. There had been the sound of footsteps and the odd bark of commands but not much else...just waiting and waiting...and waiting...

Brittany had dressed efficiently, choosing the light blue gown with trellises of white that she had worn the first night she and Santana had been intimate. Then, when she was presented as a lady again she had set herself down in her favourite chair and listened as the madness had ensued.

It had started with the shattering blast of a cannon and then another to follow shortly after. El Tiburón Oscuro trembled under the force and some part of Brittany was truly terrified that they had been struck and while she sat, pretending to be calm and waiting for Santana, the vessel was sinking to the depths of the was a frenzy of cries, and gunshots, the clatter of swords smashing together and the thumping of heavy boots storming across the deck. All the while Brittany felt helpless – a scared little woman waiting while a battle took place mere metres away from her. She wanted to put something up against the door and hold it there for fear of a pirate bursting in and running her through with his sword but another part of her was tempted to venture into the fray and find Santana amongst the men and see that she was safe.

Grabbing for her Bible, she opened to the first page within reach and began to read aloud to herself, praying that the noise of death would soon disperse.

...GLEE.

She must've fallen asleep during the reading of the scriptures, for when Brittany lifted her drooped head, her book had fallen to the floor and the shawl she'd been wearing was no longer encasing the small of her back. There was definite silence. It was unsettling. How long she had slept, she did not know but when she had drifted into rest there had still been the harrowing sounds of gunshots. Now there was nothing but stillness.

She pulled herself to her feet and scooped up her book to set it aside on the bedside table. The sky was painted a dark blue outside the window, evidence that time had passed and that night was drawing in to cloak the sea. Stepping hesitantly across the room, Brittany reached for the door and opened it, cautious. She found herself in the small corridor that adjoined the deck to her room and paused. Every fibre of her being told her to stay where she was and not wander further but a twisting in her stomach ordered her onwards. Taking the handle of the next door, Brittany swallowed the lump in her throat and opened it.

The light leaked into the space and she tiptoed forward. The sea-salt reached her nostrils and she inhaled as a sight of absolute horror reached her vision. All along the deck of El Tiburón Oscuro were the mangled forms of dead bodies. Blood smeared the floor and splashed up the mass. There were so many of them, men with broken ribs and slashed faces, sightless eyes gaping into obscurity. Weapons were discarded and hands were left open as if they'd been reaching for what they could not find. It took all of Brittany's power not to cry out in terror at what she was witnessing. She felt sickened. Where was Santana? Where were the likes of Puck and Sam? She could not see them amongst the dead. Turning, and trembling she found the ship to be latched directly next to another vessel, smaller in size, a fine Navy brig, and transferring her gaze back to the massacred souls, noted that they were all dressed in the valiant uniform, all Navy men.

'Now then lads,' a voice sliced through the silence and Brittany spied Santana across the way, on the brig with her crew, 'I'm going to speak honestly with you all and you'll respect me for it.' Lined up with their hands tied behind their backs were several marines with solemn faces. The crew of El Tiburón Oscuro had them set in place, swords and pistols pointed towards them with hard smiles. 'Your Captain is slain and you'll take pride in knowing he did so with honour at the hands of my first mate, Will. You put up a fight and I pity you for having not turned tail on the waves when you had the chance. Your ship sinks. My cannons have seen to it and this eve you will likely die. I –'

'Shut your fucking mouth you twisted little bitch before one of us puts a bullet in you!'

Santana turned on her heel to look upon the marine who had cut over her. No emotion registered in her features, not even amusement. It was Finn who struck him across the face with the back of his hand, laughing when an agonised cry spilled from his lips.

'Thank you Finn,' Santana nodded to her crewmate, 'such a gentleman.' Brittany watched her address Mike. 'Reports?'

'Aye Captain. The ship be plundered,' he said, 'plenty of gold and she'll be sunk within a few hours.'

'Wonderful,' Santana replied, 'well we shouldn't be too long aboard.' She turned to the marine who had abused her and then gazed at the youngster next to him. It was difficult to see from where Brittany stood but there was a likeness in the pair, though the one that had caught Santana's attention appeared to be perhaps fourteen years old.

'Ah, such a handsome lad,' Santana said softly, 'your brother I presume?' She caressed the boys face and he cringed under her touch.

'What's it to you?'

'No real manner of interest,' answered the Latina, 'but I do so like to repay the favour to someone who stings me. Your words have cut me like a knife good sir and my code of etiquette demands I cut back.'

Realisation seemed to dawn on the marines face and he threw himself up at Santana. He never reached the Captain. Puck and Sam had anchored him to the floor and his little brother had found three swords being pointed his way.

Will spoke with deference. 'Give yer orders Captain Lopez and he'll be killed in yer honour!'

Santana smiled and held up her hand, 'that's not necessary. I am nothing if not fair.' Relief flooded into Brittany's pounding heart. For a second there she believed that Santana would order their deaths. She leant against the mass for support and watched as the woman she had grown to love make her way around the line of prisoners to stand behind the boy. The marine, his older brother, struggled and writhed.

'Please,' he begged, 'forgive me. He's a child. Kill me instead.'

Brittany didn't understand. Santana wasn't going to kill anyone. She had ordered it so. Why was there a gripping horror across the way? Why did the ship seem so heavy under her feet all of a sudden? Eyes wide, Santana drew her sword and with her other hand, gripped the boys hair, yanking him back to expose his neck.

'If any of you survive I pray you take this story back to land. Warn them that Captain Lopez is as blood thirsty as rumoured. Tell of how she murdered an innocent child before yours eyes and how terrible it was and how she marvelled in the glory of it.' Her words were proud and violent and with one swipe of her blade, Santana slit the throat of the young boy, and he gurgled and spat blood before dropping to the ground with an almighty thump.

A scream of high pitched disgust echoed over the ocean and Brittany was faced with a million eyes staring back at her and realised with dread that the noise itself had escaped her own lips. Her feline blue eyes met Santana's dark orbs and there was a shared fear between them. The colour had drained from Santana's cheeks and with it, the victory from her eyes. The sword in her grip dropped to the floor and she stumbled forward drunkenly.

'Brittany,' she said timorously.

Brittany staggered and tumbled rearward over a marines body. She gasped as her hand came in contact with his bloodied jacket and tried helplessly to bring herself to her feet. Santana's voice was calling to her, desperate as anything.

'Brittany! Wait! Wait!'

She didn't wait. She couldn't. How could she? Crawling across the deck, she heaved on her own tears. That poor child, so innocent...to be slain so violently by the woman she believed to be the most wonderful creature in the world. She couldn't believe it.

Fighting to breathe, Brittany crawled into her room, retching and fighting down the river of sickness that was making its way up her system. She got through the door and slammed it shut, leaning against it with all the force within her trembling body. The scene replayed in her mind. The little boys head slumping under the clean slice and how the blood sprayed from between his lips. The look in Santana's eye had been beyond anything she had witnessed before. It was evil, as though she had enjoyed what she had done.

She couldn't fight it. The sick suddenly poured out of her mouth and into her lap. Brittany cried, the burning sensation searing her fragile throat. Her hands quaked under the weight of what she had witnessed. Santana. Her Santana. A monster!

A tentative knocking at the door wrenched her out of her train of thought.

'Brittany?'

It was Santana. Brittany burst into a new round of tears and the sickness came upon her again, hammering into her lap.

Santana tried to open the door and the blonde screamed in panic and shoved her full weight into the structure to keep her out.

'Brittany. Please. You're not well. Let me in to take care of you.' Santana pleaded.

'Just go away,' she sobbed, 'evil...monster...how...how could you?'

Santana sighed through the door, 'I didn't think you would see,' she said quietly, 'I didn't want you to see.'

'I saw,' Brittany cried, 'I saw what you did. You...killed...killed him!'

A new current of bile rose into her mouth and she heaved it up. She could feel the Captain's presence outside the door and it made her anxious. The handle rattled again.

'Please. At least let me send someone else in,' Santana murmured, 'you have suffered quite a shock and you need to be taken care of. Maybe William?'

'No.'

'Please.'

'No.'

'It'll only –'

"I SAID NO! I DON'T WANT YOU NEAR ME EVER AGAIN!' The rage was upon Brittany like a wave drowning a sailor who could not swim, 'HOW COULD I EVER BELIEVE YOU TO BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN A MURDERER! LEAVE ME! LEAVE ME BE! GET IT INTO YOUR HEAD! I DON'T WANT YOU! '

Nothing...silence...stillness...

It was suffocating...

Santana's voice was broken as it whispered through the door. 'I'm sorry.'

Brittany barely heard. She had gone numb with shock.

Day 90

No one came inside the room. No one dared try. Over the next few days there had been hesitant knocks and the voices of some of the crew speaking to her gently with offerings of food but Brittany would not reply and Santana's voice never made an appearance.

They were moving again, but whereas once the ship riding the waves brought her comfort, now it seemed to weaken her and force her into a stunned daze. Brittany hadn't moved from where she had collapsed to the floor after the massacre of the brig. She didn't seem to have much strength to move and whenever she tried the sickness would come over her again and she would find herself on her knees, heaving on an empty stomach. She didn't sleep well, but drifted in and out of consciousness and when she did rest she was overcome with dark nightmares of pirates with fire in their eyes and blood smeared across jaws with jagged teeth.

The days felt long while she lay on the ground. She thought often enough of the battle between the marines and Santana's crew and how terrible it must have been and how grateful she was to not have witnessed it at its full horrifying power. She tried not to think of Santana and how she loved her, but whenever she did tears would pour from her eyes free and in abundance and she would sniffle and tremble in the foetal position on the ground.

All Brittany knew was that when she had begun her journey upon El Tiburón Oscuro she had felt like a stranger amongst its world and had never been more relived when she began to realise how well she belonged there. Suddenly Brittany felt like a stolen treasure again, awaiting her fate which was layered in death.

Day 93

'Brittany, please let me in.'

...

'I know I did wrong but you must understand that I would never do anything to hurt you.'

...

'I'm a pirate for the love of God, I have a reputation to uphold.'

...

'At least try and eat something for me.'

...

'Brittany'

...

'Brittany...please.'

Day 94

Someone was talking outside the door, in hushed voices. It was evening, the sun had set beneath the horizon and the seagulls were leaving the skies to return to their nestlings with full guts of fish.

Brittany was ill. Her stomach grumbled in discontent and she could barely lift her face from the ground but she heard them all the same. Two voices. A man and a woman. Santana. She couldn't place the voice of the man but it was coated with concern and supple to the senses. Shifting to turn on her side, Brittany strained to hear what was being said between them. Her mind was clouded over but she remained alert.

'Yer need to do somethin' Captain or else the lass will die of broken heart.'

'Don't you think I know that already? She won't eat and she doesn't speak and her body is pressed up against that door as if to keep us out.' Santana sounded pained.

'She's scared. She'll be thinking we mean her harm.' Something clicked in Brittany's mind. Will. It was Will.

'I could never...I would...I couldn't hurt her,' Santana stammered.

'Aye Captain Lopez,' Will replied in agreement, 'but she be not understanding the sweet trade. She's not been seeing you slay a man before.'

Brittany turned onto her side, whimpering, and wanting to block out the conversation. Santana cared for her and her rejection of the Latina was unbearable but no more than it hurt Brittany also. Santana deserved this treatment nonetheless. What she had done was nothing short of barbaric! To see her kill an innocent child had been a sight she had thought she would never see and never wanted to see again.

'What do I do?' Santana spoke as though her teeth were clenched together, seething to see her lover curled up on the other side of the door, 'how can I fix this mess?'

'Me thoughts are knotted like a bad mass rope. Give the lass time,' Will said.

If there was anymore conversation to be shared, Brittany didn't hear it. She slipped into a state of oblivion and didn't submerge for hours.

Day 95

She was surrounded in softness when she stirred, and moaning contently, Brittany rolled over and clutched at the blanket that encased her. It was a luxury, to wake and feel as though her muscles, which ached from the force of lying upon a hardened floor, were being massaged of tension. A voice crooned delicately in her ear, murmuring a lullaby of sorts and accompanying it was a pair of hands, cupping the small of her back and rubbing up and down with tenderness. It was a sensation that Brittany welcomed, and she nuzzled into the heat that enveloped her body and inhaled the aroma of sea salt, breathing deeply and rubbing her cheek up and down.

'Good girl. That's it.'

Throwing herself up, Brittany lost her balance immediately and landed with an almighty crash to the ground. It took her a brief second to take in the scene, Santana on the bed wearing an expression of desperation and her own reflection in the mirror, freshly changed from her dress into a sleep garment and clean.

'Please Brittany,' Santana said, getting up, 'let me help.'

'How dare you move me?' Brittany cried, 'and how dare you remove my clothes.'

'Your dress was covered in sick. You're not well and I thought it best.'

Santana got up from the bed and made her way towards Brittany who shuffled back. She shook her head, demanding with silent eyes for the Latina to retreat.

'I brought you something to eat,' Santana told her gently, 'it's just on your bedside.' She motioned to the platter of fruit and the tankard, 'it'll help. You must be starving.'

'I don't want the food of murderers!' Brittany spat.

Santana froze on the spot and squeezed her eyes tight, grimacing. She took a long, drawn and shuddering breath and opened them again and stepped forward. Brittany backed away until she could no longer, her spine connecting with the wall. Kneeling down, Santana reached for her and pulled her in. The feeling of her arms was comforting but another side of Brittany rejected the touch and hissed at the contact. Santana was persistent. She cooed tenderly and continued to try and bring her in closer and all the while Brittany writhed with irritation. They continued this way for what felt like an eternity, Santana holding onto her lover like she might break her and Brittany fighting with as much energy as she could muster.

'Hush,' Santana said soothingly, and then Brittany gave up and succumbed, sinking into her embrace. She felt Santana's relieved sigh, 'good. That's it. I'm here. I'm with you.'

'I can't,' Brittany whimpered.

'You can,' Santana reassured her, 'how could I hurt you? I couldn't. You're my sweet one.'

Tears rushed to the young maidens eyes and her words were garbled with grief. 'You...you killed him. You hu...hurt him.'

'I know,' Santana murmured, stroking her hair and rocking her back and forth, 'and I'm so very sorry.'

Brittany tried to wrench out of her hold.

'I can't be near you because even the thought of it makes me feel like I'm a part of what you did,' she cried, 'like I'm a murderer too.'

'You could never be that,' Santana said, running her hands through Brittany's hair and holding her tighter as if frightened that should she break away she would lose her forever, 'you're too sweet and kind and everything good in the world.'

'I'm not,' Brittany protested, 'while I'm here I know I'm just as bad.'

Santana stilled and her body became rigid. 'You wish to leave me then.' She said solemnly.

Brittany sniffled, miserable, 'I don't know.'

Santana removed herself from Brittany's arms and shuffled away to lean against the base of the bed. Brittany felt the dip in her body temperature and every cell within her skin longed for the Latina Captain again. Santana was the picture of distress. Brittany could see how the days without her company had aged her. She had lost all colour from her cheeks and there were dark marks beneath her bloodshot eyes as though she hadn't slept in weeks. Gone was the confidence that usually oozed from her fine shape and in its place was a timid young woman. No pirate. No villain. Just Santana.

'You hate me?'

'No.'

'Then why would you wish to be parted from me?' Santana whispered, 'when I can't bare to be from you.'

Brittany shook her head. 'Because I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about this. About what I saw.'

'You don't have to feel anything,' Santana said, 'I'll make it so that it's forgotten...no...fixed. I promise. Just let me hold you. Let me be close to you again. Please. I love you Brittany Pierce.'

The pleasure of the confession rippled through her body and it was like a piece of God's light had entered her and bestowed her with some flutter of joy again. Sighing and fighting the feeling, Brittany shrugged her shoulders half heartedly and even though she wanted to say 'I love you' in return, a different formation of words escaped her lips.

'I don't forgive you for what I saw.'

I have decided to continue the piece as a 3 shot so although I have ended the chapter on a bit of a cliff-hanger, rest assured that it will be rounded off. Please don't fret that I am going to leave this next chapter for another year as I have already started writing it. I apologise if the chapter wasn't very good (it all felt a bit rusty) but I would love to hear your thoughts and hope that some of my readers are still present. I WILL UPDATE WITHIN THE NEXT WEEK! Thank you.