Thank you all my wonderful reviewers, Captain Meghan, Cabbage_Merchent, Stutley Constable and Lizzyluv4ever. Thank you also to those who have favourited this or put it on alerts and to those reading this far.

So this chapter may be a little wierd, but it's a bit of a filler. Still necessary though, I coudn't leave it out. That aside, enjoy!

Chapter Ten ~ Silk

"Because you're unhappy my pretty."

His voice laughs, but he's not there. It echoes around this room inside of my head. But I can't move.

"Of course he doesn't care!" Another laugh, coming at me from all angles. It fades into the distance.

"You're a bloody mess," another voice says, vibrating in a low treble through the swirl of grays and blacks before me, around me, inside my head. Curtains and folds of silk and smoke fill up the whole space. I reach for the voice with invisible arms, trying to find him, hold onto him. Searching for something to grab hold of and drag myself out of this void. Looking for Jack, for solidity.

"She's prettier, that's why," Jack's voice says and Dorian's laughs. Their breaths cut out a swirl of the smokiness in front me. I take back the strands of thought reaching for him; snap them back in a coil of hurt.

"Better!" Dorian shouts from farther away, sounding like he's announcing a theatre production, a circus act.

"Where you going luv? Come back!" Finn calls, his voice even further away. Three laughs fill the space of words as they fade.

My eyes open. Blurry lines of light and dark streak my view of the empty cabin. They shift and vibrate, leaving gaps to see through, then covering the gaps and opening new ones. The gray shade turns to blue when my eyes land on a painting, the face appearing to smile at me for several seconds before returning to the normal straight lips. The blue paint of the man's coat swirls into my eyes, staining the separation of light and dark and turning it all shades of blue.

I close my eyes. The blue dissolves into black. I blink them open again and the black follows me, engulfing any cracks and holes. I can't see anything at all.

My head pounds, the sound of my heartbeat blocking all other sound. The heavy beats hit my temples, seeming to crush them over and over.

The black solidifies.

"Stay here luv. It's safer here," Jack whispers, his breath on my cheek. But there is no cheek; I'm only here in thought, vision.

"I'm sorry Lizzie. I wasn't planning this. You're just too valuable," Dorian explains, and I can see him standing in front of me. The first face I've seen. But it's contorted, blurry, shifting. He smiles. His image seems to jolt and he starts again.

"You're just too valuable. You're just too valuable. You're just too valuable. You're just too valuable. You're just too valuable. You're just too valuable."

But it's not an echo. Every time he hits the word 'valuable' he cracks the same smile. It's broken. He repeats it until another voice overrides it, making it fade but not disappear.

"You're not too valuable at all!" Jack laughs into my ear.

"Valuable to me Sugar," Finn growls from somewhere in the air.

"You're just too valuable!" Dorian repeats, smiling once again.

"Come home," Jack whispers.

"Jackie dear!" Giselle breaks in, her shrill voice drowning out every other.

I think my eyes open. The room is still blurry, but with no lines of colour. But I can't feel the chair under me, only see the leather. The same chair I was in before. I can move my head but not feel the motion. I still can't hear. The sick feeling in my stomach rises up. I seem to sink into the leather I'm looking at, slipping through it like water through a crack in the floorboards.

"Elizabeth," Jack says with no emotion, no disappointment or friendliness, no laugh, no joke, no harshness. Just my name cut out and handed to me with no background.

The grays and blacks continue to swirl in folds around me. Nothing else moves. There is no sound, but the faint whisper of the smoky threads brushing against each other.

"And... she's awake!"

It takes me several seconds to focus, but when I do, I see Dorian crouching in front of me, a cheery smile plastered on his face. My first instinct is to move away, as far away as I can get. But when I realize just how much effort that will take, I give up. Although I can hear and see fine now, my strength is completely drained.

"What have you done to me?" I say almost silently, my voice cracking and dry.

"Sorry dear, you'll have to say that just a bit louder," Dorian says and leans closer, turning his head as if to listen.

"What have you done to me?" I repeat, in the same voice. He seems to get it this time though.

"You'll be down for a while with that dose. Off and on. Trouble with that stuff is you never see the blackouts coming. Or so I'm told. They just come and go. Sickness is a bit of a trouble though. Nausea lasts for a long time after the rest goes away. Come to think of it, this is probably near its finish. Blackouts will be fewer I suppose. Which is why I'm sorry to have to tell you, but this isn't the last of it. I'll have to keep you subdued until we arrive safely at our destination. Wouldn't want anyone running off on us, would we?"

"Why don't you just lock me up somewhere?" I ask, not wanting to be sent back to the swirling mass of black and gray.

"I can't do that. One, the brig is full. Two, you'd probably get out and spring the lot of 'em. I'm not trying to make this any harder for you than it has to be. This is easier and ensures you won't be making any grand escape. This stuff goes directly to your blood stream and that way I have a guarantee that you won't be making any trouble. Besides, I don't trust Jack not to come looking for you. If he does, I want to be able to hide you without you calling any attention."

"Let me go," I whine.

"Where? There's nothing but open water for weeks."

"Weeks? How long have I been here?" I ask in disbelief, finally managing to shift to a more comfortable position but the strain is almost unbearable.

"Seven days."

"Seven days?"

"That's what I said."

"Why?"

"Because, it's been seven days."

"Seven days."

"Yes, seven days. It's not going to change no matter how many times you or I say 'seven days'. So it's been seven days. Unless you want to talk about tomorrow, in which case it would then be eight days. No matter how many times I say tomorrow will have been eight days it won't change the fact that tomorrow will have been eight days. So, let's leave it at seven days shall we?"

"Why do you need me?" I move on, frustrated with my state of not being able to reach out and smack him. Or strangle him.

"As I said, you're too valuable. He smiles. That same smile I've seen him crack over ten times repeatedly. I shudder. This seems to wake me up a little more.

He seems to notice I can move better, because he grimaces.

"Sorry luv. This might hurt a bit."

And before I can look down, a sharp point breaks the skin of my arm.

"How long?"

"A few days."

"I can't. I don't want to see things anymore," I whimper, feeling the effect of the substance spreading through my veins.

"You see what you make."

The swirling body before me is the same as before. Only visions can penetrate the writhing mass of this unconscious state. But I am conscious, in my head. It's different than a dream. I can tell what is normal, what is right. I can think for myself reasonably. But the things I'm seeing aren't normal, nor are they reasonable.

A plain wooden chair is set before me. Dorian sits watching me with those dark eyes, his lips drawn into a smirk.

"Knew you'd come back," he says, the smirk unmoving and his lips not parting. What is this poison? "I knew you couldn't resist. I'm just too valuable. We're seven days in luv. Seven says and where is Jack?"

"I'm right here luv," Jack whispers, his breath on my neck. He walks forward, towards Dorian who stands up.

"Too slow Captain," Dorian says and pulls out a pistol. The shot rings through ribbons of gray and black, giving them a pulse, a heartbeat. The curtains maintain a rhythm, beating with the sound of any heart. Jack falls down with a thud and the mass closes down on him. He vanishes into the gray. Dorian laughs.

"This is yours!" the high voice calls from above. A blue dress falls to the floor. Once it touches the b;acl base, the fabric seems to wilt like a flower, shrivelling into a small heap. A red trail runs from under it and the dress turns dark, stained with blood. The dress continues to shrink, until it's a puddle before me.

"Isn't she charming?" Dorian asks, stepping closer.

"Afraid of women?" Ragetti asks, stepping out from behind Dorian.

"Yes, she is," Dorian smirks.

"Are you afraid darling?" Giselle asks, stepping from the folds of dark and coming right up to me, her face inches from the essence of mine. Because once again, I'm not here. I want to shrink away, but I can't. She smiles.

Then she disappears. When I look forward, Dorian and Ragetti have both moved off. Instead of seeing them I see the child. Marissa sits with her legs crossed in Dorian's chair, her hair in tidy curls, her pink dress fluttering in an invisible wind. The curtains have disappeared and everything is white. There is only a long stretch of white rock before me, a never ending sea of snow. The child stares at me.

"Where's my mother gone?" she asks with no smile. I'm tired of the smiles. "What have you done to my mother?" She frowns, her eyes narrowing accusingly.

My eyes snap open. I feel heavy, leaden. When I feel the invisible restraints of the poison I panic, feeling too trapped for comfort. My breath comes quicker as I struggle to break free. When I hear voices I freeze.

"That wasn't what I asked of you."

"It's what ye got. I wasn't bein' paid to take a shot in the leg."

"It was the only way to ensure you stayed on my side. After what you said, I wasn't sure I could trust you."

I find the source of the voices with my eyes. Dorian and...Finn? They're standing by the cabin door, voices low but not low enough for me not to hear. I close my eyes and listen.

"Yer lucky I went along with it."

"I paid you extra."

"But she owes me."

"No."

"Ye may be Captain 'ere but this is my fair pay I'm talkin' 'bout."

"I shot you for a reason. It was a warning. Now, if you want me to shoot you dead, by all means continue."

"You owe me. I could have stopped there. I could 'ave stood up and left. But I played along. I lay there for all the time it took ye to do some convincing. And when I could 'ave given ye away, I still lay there. An' the whole while, I was bleeding from this bullet hole in me leg."

I open my eyes when I hear movement. Dorian steps right up to Finn and grabs him by the collar of his worn jacket.

"You ask me for any more money than you get and I'll give you something else to bleed about. If you lay a finger on what is mine, I swear I will shoot you before you turn around.

"Aye captain," Finn growls and Dorian lets go.

"Get out."

Finn jerks open the door and storms out, slamming it behind him.

I shut my eyes against my headache. I just want to sleep. No more of this empty room in my head, no more of this unfamiliar cabin. I just want to close my eyes let go. But when I want it most, it won't come. Not even the next blackout is here yet.

"Elizabeth?" Dorian asks and he's closer now, a few steps away from the sound of it. I open my eyes to check.

"I feel sick."

"Take this," he grimaces, setting a clay pot down in front of the chair. "You'll be like this for another week or so."

"How long have I been out?"

"Another fortnight. I'm surprised you woke up so late actually. It seems to work well on you."

"Please, take me back," I try again.

"Sorry," he says and turns away, walking to the door and leaving me alone in the cabin.

I strain my muscles as I try to make them work. It's painful to do, but eventually something snaps and they wake up, moving my arms forward to drag the pot closer. But I soon realize I don't need it.

As sick as I feel, as much as I want the poison cleared out of me, I can't do it. Because it's in my blood, not my stomach. But I feel I need something out. The wine? My stomach twists in tight excruciating knots but I can't do anything about it except curl up in a ball in the chair, every part of me aching. My arms are stiff, my legs stiffer. My head pounds unrelentingly. My eyes are dry and they sting uncomfortably. But my stomach pain is almost unbearable as I clutch it. Sweat beads on my forehead and I close my eyes again, embracing the poison.

My thoughts disappear. No colour, no shades. Nothing meets me on the other side of my eyelids.

Thanks for reading, please review! Tell me what you like and what you don't. Every extra detail you put in helps!