A/N: Just a head's up, there is the long awaited flashback in this chapter. One that you will all be like WTF what the hell is going on? But anyways, I think some parts are confusing and not written well. At least it's long.

Chapter 10

"Whaterou doin down ere?" One of the disfigured crew men intimidated at the three of us.

"Just show'in em where we keep the rigging." Bootstrap responded quickly.

The manfish grunted and barged past us on his way down.

As soon as we reached the decks, a large, smelly pirate with a head shaped like a stingray approached me, "Captain want's ya down in his quarters." He sneered.

"Does the captain have a reason?" I addressed him with little esteem.

"Captain's orders should be enough." He sniffed, his black, widely spaced eyes filled with coldness.

"Where-

"Follow the organ music." He cut me off, pushing me down into the cold interior of the boat.

"You could have given me a God-damn light." I muttered as he slammed the wooden hatch heavily behind me. It was almost pitch black on the steep wooden stairs. I could here the shrill wavering of the music winding up from the bottom. How the hell do you get something like that down here? I wondered. It was a ship, not a concert hall.

I stumbled to solid ground and felt for a door of some kind. My hands brushed against part of the wall that bulged out, protruding. Handle….handle….where is the freakin handle! Oh, there it is, on the other side. I pushed and entered a dim room lit by tall wax candles. Sitting on a dull, velvet bench was Davy Jones, weaving back and forth over the keys of the organ with his tentacles. He swayed to the music, and the ship seemed to sway to him. The notes echoed around the oddly high-ceiling cavern of a room. He did not look up from his music, but continued to intricately create the sad melody.

I stood there, out of place, waiting for him to get done. When he had finished, I had no idea if I should clap or compliment him. I was impressed with his playing, not like I had ever had listened to much music in my life. Instead, I responded by silence.

"Rummy," He puffed, "Have a seat."

I hesitantly sat down on a moth eaten auto man that looked as if it had not seen the light of day in centuries. The legs were carved convolutedly into the heads of lions with their mouths open in a roar. Dust clouded around it as I disturbed the old cushions.

"Do you know any Beethoven?" He asked.

"No, I can't say I do." I restated dryly.

"Come now, everyone's heard of him. He's more popular than Queen Elizabeth." Davy Jones made conversation.

"Why have you brought me down here?" I questioned, trying to break his stupid monologue.

"Ah, straight to the point." He grinned devilishly, "Perhaps simply because I am curious. Curious to get to know you, Rummy. Maybe because I feel like I've seen you before in a passed life, in a passed happiness."

"I'm absolutely thrilled to hear that." I responded without emotion.

"And you will be too, Rummy. Do you know who you remind me of?" He asked, his eyes scanning me up and down.

"No."

He chuckled, "You remind me of myself."

My eyes grew dark with hatred, "And what exactly are you basing this off of? The fact that you've only known me for a few hours, or that you're losing your sanity, you bastard!" I threatened.

"The fact that you've let me see into your life easier than I can see you sitting right there." He mocked me with a smile curling on his lips.

"You're a liar." I denied his accusation.

"I don't believe that's true." He enjoyed himself, leaning back a little, "You see, when you wanted me to show you your little friend Toby, I had to search your mind for memories of him. I then compiled an image based off of those memories to give you that experience. I know everything that's happened to you from the moment you were born to this very second. All that's been imprinted on your mind."

"Shut up! You don't know me! You have no idea who I am!" I shouted.

"Really?" He questioned, "What about that time you saved Toby at the docks, or the time you challenged Barbossa." He cackled, "Oh and what's his face, Shyam, I know all about your encounter with him. I really had a good laugh at that one."

"Shut the hell up!" My voice exploded in fury, "You have no right!"

He laughed again, enjoying my frustration, "Would you like to go back to that repressed memory perhaps, would you care to relive it?"

I heard the voices of the tavern filling my head, many voices, "Get out of my head!" I screeched, pulling my hands up to my ears and trying to block out the noises. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on anything that would stop that recollection from being brought back to the surface. I had spent the rest of my life trying to forget about it.

Go away, go away, it's not there, it never happened. When I opened my eyes, the familiar dirty glass mug was sitting on the counter filled with an amber liquid. I felt myself feel the same hopeless emotions I had gone through thirteen years ago. I was nineteen at the time, still young and without a ship. During that period of my life, I was working as a merchant's hand, being apprenticed by some of the sailors who had agreed to teach me what they could. It was hard work for little pay, and that day, I had learned some heavy news.

I suppose I should have been happy for Toby, after all, he had found a wonderful woman to spend the rest of his life with. Her name was Christine, such a fair name. She was gorgeous too. Earlier that day when I was getting howled at by one of the merchants for misplacing a barrel of flour, he had brought her over. Such great timing too, I was covered in grime, the ocean's salt plastered to my hair and dirt smeared across my face. I smelled of dead fish, mostly because that's what everything smelled like at the docks.

He was all groomed and fancy, his long dark hair combed and parted. He wore a new, clean white shirt and shined shoes, with the buckles glittering. I knew something was up when I saw him dressed like that.

"What's all this? Is it Sunday already?" I asked, wiping sweat off my brow as I saw him approaching up the docks.

"Remy," Toby spoke cautiously, "I… I came by to introduce you to my fiancé."

"Fiancé? When did this all happen?" I laughed, thinking it was a tale, "Toby, did you wake up with a ring on your finger and a gal in your bed?" I joked.

"No." He faltered, "It's not… this is the woman I'm marrying, her name is Christine." A young lady steeped out from behind him, standing closer to Toby than I would have liked.

"Oh," I spoke embarrassed, "Sorry about that." My voice cracked disbelievingly, "I'm Remy." I quickly wiped my hand on my pants to get some of the dirt off of it.

"Nice to meet you Remy." Christine shook my hand daintily. She had smooth, fair skin and her eyes were not too deeply set into her face. They were a clear, strong blue that lit up her appearance. She wore her brown, wavy hair down, cascading across her shoulders. Christine had on a plain dress that showed off her small figure, but had a conservative feel to it, covering every inch of skin. She looked like the daughter of a farmer; there was that down-to-earth kind of look that most women get when they must learn to work to benefit their family. Not like the arrogant, frail upper class ladies who throw talcum powder on their faces to make themselves whiter than ghosts. Christine stood next to Toby's tall body, his arm draped over her waist. He looked so mighty compared to her, but he was a gentle giant, I knew him well enough to know that. I could see the uncertainty in his grey eyes as he surveyed my expression anxiously.

I smiled wryly, "Toby, I'm so proud of you! You've finally got yourself a girl!" I hid behind my rough edged exterior, "Let's sit down somewhere and you can tell me why you've been hiding your beauty for so long, huh?" I beckoned them to follow me over to one of the more respectable inns, which all kinda sucked but I didn't want to scare his girl before I knew if she was a bitch or not.

We pushed through the wooden doors, the bell clanging as we walked into the small, homey atmosphere. The bright sunlight glittered through the windows; it seemed the beautiful day was contrasting to the taught wires in my heart as I watched the two from across the table we were sitting at. They were stretched to the limit, I felt like my heart would snap any moment and I wouldn't be able to control myself. Toby glanced at me quickly, as if he worried about me exploding or something.

What a stupid idea, it's not like I was going to bust apart and become some blubbering fool. It was great that Toby had someone he cared for, even if I did feel like I was bumped out of that spot. But of course, nothing but friendship had ever been between us. It's not like I actually loved him or anything. Love is for losers. And I have complete faith in the bible.

"So, how come I never heard of Miss. Christine before?" I played with Toby, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh, you know… I was so busy, and I didn't think you would be so interested." He mustered.

Deep, slow breaths control your damn heart rate.

"So… you've got her father's permission and everything." I tried to create a normal conversation flow.

"Yes, Toby asked my father yesterday, like a true gentle man." Christine smiled, rubbing his back.

Gentle man! You were never there when we blew up the blacksmith's kiln! You were never there when Toby fought John Wassermann! You were never freakin there when Toby and I broke into the baker's shop and stole four frosted pastries (granted, there was no apparent reason beyond that but boredom…)! You never knew him!

"That's good." I responded, suppressing what I would have liked to say to her. Stupid little-

"The wedding's going to be held at Mother Mary's Church, probably in what? This July?" Toby added.

You ass, you never attended one sermon there. Hypocrite!

"Uh huh, where did you two love birds meet?" I questioned, curiously, wondering if I could find it and burn the whole thing down to the ground.

"Do you want to, or should I?" Christine asked in her light, uplifting voice.

Oh no, go ahead little miss perfect.

"Why don't you, sweet heart." Toby cooed.

Where's the puke bucket! Gack!

"Well, I was at the market, buying some bread for father. I was returning home down a deserted ally when a dirty man with long, straggly black hair approached me. His hair was about down to the middle of his neck and he was unshaven. I took one look at him and felt my blood chill. He looked at me with this hungry gaze and I ran as fast as I could. He was gaining on me," Her voice grew more exposed and Toby comforted her with a hand around her shoulder. He pressed his chin into her soft hair. ", and then I fell and he was on top of me. I tried to get him off, but he was too strong…"

"Thank God, I saw her and managed to get that flee bag off of her." Toby finished, "I can't even imagine what would have happened if I wasn't there."

Easy, she'd be screwed and I would be laughing hysterically at her misfortune. Stupid little whore.

"God, that's bad." I filled the emptiness, "Yeah, good thing Toby was there." He's always in the right place at the right time anyway.

"It was nice meeting you, Remy." Christine smiled.

"Hey, if you're a friend of Toby's you're a friend of mine." I'm a freakin liar! Oh, she's a huge friend, why don't we sit down for crumpets and tea later on and we can talk about how much we have in common.

That had all happened earlier that day, and now look where I was. Drowning my miseries with a bottle of rum in some lame-ass bar. Cuz that was going to do oodles for my liver! And make me feel oh-so-much better!

A/N: I was sitting next to Puff Daddy's kids, P-diddy mini, P-puffy bite size, and Puffa diddy diddy pun fun size!

"Keep em' comin." I spoke to the bartender. He nodded and refilled my glass. It was an off day that night. Only the depressed alcoholics were slouched in their seats, sipping brandy. How it came to this, I had no idea. How could I have let it get so out of hand? Toby was lucky, he loved someone, he would start a family and have a wonderful life. What did I have? A measly underpaid job working as a slave. Nobody noticed me, nobody cared. How the hell was I to acquire a ship? That was the one thing I wanted, to be a captain.

A cold wind blew at my back as the door opened and a man came in from the night. He sat down on a stool next to me.

"Yeah, one bottle of rum." He cited in a smooth, American voice.

What was it about him that seemed so familiar? He was about ten years older than me, tall and thin, but muscled. He wore a white shirt, partially opened, exposing his smooth chest. The man's black hair blocked most of his face from my view; it cut off sharply midway by his neck. He had rough stubble on his chin and a straight nose.

I bent my head lower, and looked at my drink as he glanced at me. From the corner of my eye, I could see him take a sip and then slam it on the counter.

"You know why Tortuga ain't on the map, sweetheart?" He drawled in an uninterested voice.

I blinked and looked up at him; I could feel the slight dizziness rolling around in my head.

"Cuz it's hell."

"Is that supposed to be a pick up line?" I muttered.

"Nope." He replied taking another swig of his rum, "What's a young lady like yourself doin in a sad place like this anyway?" He ventured slyly. He gazed at me with two orange brown eyes.

I scoffed, "You really wanna know?"

"Course"

"I'm here because I'm weak… I could easily fix all my problems by just telling someone exactly how I feel but- but I don't have the courage…" I intoned, thinking of that day, "I can't do it."

He paused, thinking, "Looks like you and me are here for the same reasons."

"So what's stopping you?" I asked.

He didn't respond, after a while, I thought he was just going to go back to minding his own business, but of course that was not the case.

"Love," He spoke up again, "It's a stupid emotion, but that's what's stopping me." The man reckoned, "It's getting in the way or at least making it harder."

I hesitated, "I never saw the point of it either."

"Then I guess we're just two empty souls hiding behind a mask, huh." He tapped his fingers on the wood, musing. "I'm called Shyam by the way." He spoke wily.

"Remy," I informed him.

"Remy, you're not like the girls I usually meet."

"I'm not like a lot of people."

"Neither am I." Shyam spoke, "I can tell you don't run with the pack. We're loners, and a lot of times we've got to always be looking over our shoulders because we're unprotected." His catlike eyes narrowed, "That's why us loners gotta look out for one another."

"It's really starting to get to me," I confided in him, "This God damn society is making me an outcast just because I'm different."

"Remy, don't give a shit about what they say. We don't need to live up to their expectations." Shyam insisted, he leaned in and put his lips to mine. I kissed him back as I felt his tongue slide into my mouth. I finally felt wanted; all thoughts of Toby left my mind. It happened quickly; I followed Shyam up the stairs. He pushed me up against the wall and slid his hands up my shirt. We entered a room in the upstairs inn and we fell onto the bed. Shyam was so vicious, so compelling. I barely knew what was happening. He pressed his body up to mine and kissed me fiercely.

I awoke the next morning with a hangover. My head felt like it was filled with rocks, I couldn't think. Shyam was gone; all that was left was the ruffled sheets. Part of me didn't even believe he actually existed. I felt like shit, my hair was a mess, I felt dirty.

What was that thudding sound? Someone was knocking on the door. "Who's there?" I called, scrambling to get some cloths on.

"It's me, Toby." Toby's muffled voice responded, "What's going on? Why aren't you down at the docks?"

"Holy shit! What time is it?" I panicked, throwing the door open.

Toby stood out there with an odd expression on his face, he looked at me confused, "Remy, what happened?"

"Nothing," I lied, "I just slept in." I tried to push past him, but he grabbed my arm, "Let go, I've gotta go."

"Rem, do you think I'm stupid?" He asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you, Remy look at me! Did you get drunk last night?" He persisted.

I looked up at his friendly grey eyes and knew I couldn't lie to him, "Why do you care, so I had a few drinks."

"I was worried about you last night. I couldn't find you." Toby spoke in a soft voice.

"Maybe I didn't want to be found." I broke out of his grasp and tripped down the stairs. I picked myself up and busted out of the bar's doors and into the town streets. I began to sprint through the ally, pushing past people. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, aiming for some vanishing point in the distance. Gasping for breath, I stopped, finding myself by the docks.

Maybe it was fate, I don't know. I saw a group of people crowded around two redcoats. They were hauling someone to their feet; he was clapped in iron manacles. I pressed foreword, trying to see over the heads of the people gathered there.

"Mr. Shyam Gale, you are under arrest by the British Royal Navy for the said crimes of murder on two counts, rape, robbery, and treason. You will be held by the British Royal courts and if found guilty, you will be executed. How do you plead?" One of the soldiers asked in a condescending tone.

Shyam's eyes shone with hatred. They looked almost red in the bright Caribbean sunshine. "You son of a bitch!" He growled, "You got another thing comin if you think you're gonna see me dead!" He twisted in their grasp. I stepped back, but not before he saw me, Shyam laughed as they dragged him past me. "Empty souls don't get redemption." He coughed.

"Shut up!" One of the guards smashed their rifle into his stomach and he doubled over. "This is a dangerous criminal, everyone back up!" The other one ordered.

There was a piercing scream as the soldier was knocked to the ground. I saw Shyam kick the Brit in the chest and he fell to the ground. Shyam burst through the crowd and started dashing down the street to get away. The guards managed to get up and begin firing their muskets at him, the bullets ricocheting off the stone street. Screams were heard all around in the mass chaos. I ran against the crowd that was fleeing the scene. Why was I running to him?

I remember, his body fell heavily, a bullet had pierced his chest, staining his white shirt. I slid to the ground at a run, there was already a pool of blood flowing around his body. Shyam's orange brown eyes looked up at me. His long, black hair sticky with blood. I bent down, his chest heaved in and out, fighting the mortal wound.

I didn't know what to say. What could I say?

He whispered something quietly, "You're not…" He struggled, "weak."

His breath hissed out of his mouth, rattling through his clenched teeth. I did not cry, I slowly stood up and saw Toby standing in the distance looking horrified at me.

I was back, sitting on the bench looking at Davy Jones, "Why did you show me this?" I asked quietly.

"Because…" He replied, sucking on his pipe, "I know. I know what's it's like to be a pariah."

"Then I guess we are a lot alike."

A/N: I don't know if this chapter made any sense. WF's gonna kill me. Where did the weekend go? She wanted a fling with Toby, but that's not what happened is it? Oh no, but there was indeed a fling as I promised.

TECT Out!