Many thanks to Jennifer Lynn Weston, Starling Rising, and the-american-hockey-girl for your sweet reviews! I really appreciate them!

A/N: I apologize for the length of the chapter. I'll try to get the next one longer.

Chapter 10: Monsters and Storytime

Jack's cabin was scary in the dark.

The sun was all hidded 'cause it was time for bed. But I couldn't sleep. There were scary shaped things all over and Mum hadn't checked under the bed for monsters yet.

Mum…I scooted up on the bed, wrapped my arms around my knees, and started to cry. I wanted this 'dventure to be over. I wanted my nice, fluffy bed. I wanted Bettie. I wanted Mum.

I hugged myself real tight and tried to 'magine Mum telling me a bedtime story. She was a good story teller, the best probably. She'd hold me so I was leaning back close enough to hear her heartbeat.

Then she'd start to talk. Her voice was even-like and went up and down in all the right parts. She always talked about my father. She told me all about how brave he was and how he loved us both very much.

I asked her if he'd seen me before since I'd never seen him before. She always looked sad at that and told me that it was time to sleep.

But I wouldn't mind if she said that now. 'cause at least she'd be here.

The door clicked open and I hid my face under the covers. I knew monsters would come to eat me, I just knew it. That's 'cause Mum and Bettie weren't here to keep them away.

I peeked up over the blanket and watched as the tall monster walked around the room. It was grumbling and muttering to itself.

It shoved at some things on the table, tinkering with different things. It must have been looking for something.

I got my fists ready. If that monster was going to come in here and eat me then I was at least going to be brave like my father.

There was a scratching sound and a little sparkle of light came from the monster's hands. I had to act then. I couldn't wait any longer. I had to use the 'lement of surprise, or something like that.

I jumped up from the bed and suddenly the monster was gone.

Instead, Jack was standing there with a lumpy candle in his hands.

"Mr. Jack! You scared it away1" I ran up and hugged his legs. Maybe he could keep the monsters under my bed away! "You scared the bad monsters away! It was gonna eat me!"

Jack looked down at me and frowned. I don't think he heard what I said. "Wot's this?" He pointed to my wet cheeks.

"I miss Mum." I said, feeling my throat go tight. "I tried to be brave, Mr. Jack, but I want my Mum back."

Jack was very quiet for a long time. "You miss your Mum, aye?"

I nodded.

"An'…what does she do when you can't…sleep?"

I sniffled. "She tells me about my father. Can you tell me about my father?"

"The whelp?" Jack's lips turned up a little. "I've a few stories…"

"Why do you call him that?"

"Who?"

"My father. Why do you call him the whelp?"

"D'you ever stop asking questions?"

I shook my head.

Jack ran his fingers over his head. "An' I thought your father was bad." He walked to another chest and pulled out a rum bottle.

I followed. "My father was bad? Mum said he was strong and brave."

"Your Mum married the whelp 'course she thinks he's strong and brave." He uncorked the bottle and drank a whole lot of it. Then, he wiped his mouth with his hand and sat down.

I waited for him to start talking. But he didn't. And I thought of something. Mum always took me in her lap when she told stories. Maybe that's what I needed to do with Jack. Maybe he was just waiting for me to sit down before he began.

So, I lifted myself up and settled down right in the middle of his lap. He was all rigid like. I don't think he had much practice holding people 'cause you're supposed to hold them nicely.

He must have been thinking like me 'cause he relaxed, but only after I patted his hand politely. He would start talking now, wouldn't he?

I waited as long as I could but Jack just drank from his bottle. "Mr. Jack, that stuff smells funny."

"You smell funny." Jack said back and took another drink.

I huffed. "Are you going to tell me about anything?"

"Wot?"

"A bedtime story. I can't sleep without one. Mum or sometimes Bettie tells me one."

"An' what do they tell you about?"

I gave him my best patient face. Hadn't he been listening? "My father."

"Ah…wouldn't you rather hear about ole Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"No."

He looked a little disappointed. "Oh…well, d'you ever hear of the time he was almost eaten by cannibals?"

"No." I settled back. Maybe Jack was a good story teller, too!

"Y'see, your father 'nd I were out near Pelegosto…" Jack's story was an 'xciting one but my father didn't do a lot in it. I didn't understand that…

TBC...