Part 2 of 3! And here's where the fun begins! And our poor girl has a breakdown...poor baby...Think a certain Spaniard is going to make it worse or better? ;)

Salazar/Pirates of the Caribbean = Disney, Isabeau = BluKoffee!

I decided to tune back in, listening to them talk, and realized that they weren't talking as much as I'd thought. Either that or my perception of time was all sorts of screwed.

Probably both. Who the fuck knew anymore. I pretty much didn't even know what time was anymore...

Still listening with only half an ear, I turned to stare out the windows dejectedly, wishing I could be outside where I could smell the brine, feel the breeze kicked up by this massive ship, but no, I was stuck in here, having to watch the wake behind the Mary through rippled glass.

This was all so alien, like I was trapped in an anxiety-ridden nightmare. Or maybe I was in a coma. I'd been in one when I'd gotten dumped here. Maybe this was all a dream.

But even as I wished that, I knew it wasn't a dream. For one, if I was going to get stuck in a time-travelling fantasy, it certainly wouldn't be the 18th century, for Pete sakes. And even if was some twisted imaginings, I knew there was no way in hell that my brain would have had half the shit needed to make this ship realistic stored in its databanks. What I'd gleaned from books and movies just wasn't enough. And it felt too...real, the smells, the sounds, the feel of everything. The sense of disconnection I had was my mental defense against overload, but even still, just the sheer amount of sensory input was too detailed for it not to be real. And if that was indeed true, then-

"Something troubles you?"

I jerked back to the present to see I was being watched carefully by both of my companions, the captain having been who gathered my attention. I smiled politely and shook my head. "Just da-...woolgathering." So dumb. Where the hell had that phrase originated? Daydreaming was much better.

His eyes flickered over my face for a second, then he rose, signaling that dinner was done. Which I was happy with. I was ready to get back to my cabin so I could ignore people. I grimaced as I moved stiffly out of my chair, the ache in my toes from kicking a certain captain's boot thankfully faded away, but the rest of my bruises and strained muscles were making themselves known. Hopefully, my brownie had been kind enough to leave me a bath, and if I was a lucky bug, it'd even be a warm one.

The Captain took Lady BeKatt's hand and began to lead her towards the door, leaving me to trail along behind. Even with my limited knowledge, I knew that was poor manners, but I really didn't mind. I didn't like people touching me, even before my stay on the pirate ship, but he disturbed me on a level of twenty on a scale of one to ten. I'd rather he didn't touch me. So I shoved the little voice of disappointment that wanted to feel his warm strength again into a little locked box and sat on it.

Due to my distractedness, I near about plowed into the Captain's back before I realized he had not only stopped, but was blocking me from leaving his quarters. I huffed in disbelief and tried to dodge around him as he bid Lady BeKatt good night, not wanting to be locked in here with him again.

He slipped his big body between me and the door before I could get by and clicked it shut, placing a hand firmly against it stop me from wrenching open and hightailing it down the corridor to safety. And then he locked it.

I danced backwards as he turned to level a discerning stare at me, swallowing as I felt the weight of his focus land squarely on top of me with nothing to distract him now. With broad shoulders, immaculate uniform, and dark, stern (and still handsome, dammit) features, he towered over me a good head and shoulders higher, as if he needed anything extra to add to his intimidation. His sheer attractiveness alone would have guaranteed that, even without everything else. My mouth went dry as I felt anxiety beginning build.

"I would like some more answers before you leave, Señorita Revanne," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and all but planting himself in front of the door.

Before I can escape, you mean. I fidgeted uneasily as I awaited Interrogation Part Two. Well, he had warned me beforehand at our first dinner, but Lady BeKatt must have distracted him enough last time that either he'd forgotten, or more likely, had decided it would be better to wait.

Before, I'd been really uncomfortable it being just him and me. Now, I was downright panicking. Being just the two of us meant I had no escape from his full attention and I had precious little to sidetrack me from my increasingly short breath and racing heartbeat, aside from ogling the man. I'd thought I'd have more self-control, but nope. It was all I could do not to blatantly stare at the masculine portrait he painted. I'd have thought that the freaking out would have distracted from that, but apparently not.

"You're not from here, are you?" he asked finally, watching me with those perceptive eyes. I vaguely wondered if they were actually black or very dark brown. It was so hard to tell..."Where do you call home?"

"I'm American-" I began, feeling my legs shaking in my pants.

"Sí, I know, but that is not what I meant." He suddenly pushed off the door and strode over to his desk, sitting down heavily with a sigh as he gazed at me with a pensive expression, one hand resting against his mouth.

I twisted my head a little, not sure what to make of this sort of attitude from the infamous Captain, especially after he'd seemed practically immovable not two seconds prior. Instead of escaping through the door now that it was no longer blocked by his big self, I slunk over to the other side of his desk and curled up in the chair across from it, tucking my trembling legs underneath me, watching him warily as he stared at me in return.

"You are not ordinary," he stated bluntly, interlacing his fingers, still watching me like a cat waiting to pounce.

I tried not to twitch at the blatant observation, but his sharp eyes saw the movement anyway. The anxiety steadily grew worse. My heartbeat developed a slight pause every now and then as the stress triggered my palpitations.

"Yes and no," I hedged with a dry tongue. I was relatively ordinary from when I had come from, but here, I was practically life from another planet. And I knew nothing about this man who would control my fate.

"Explain." His tone brooked no evasion. His eyes held no reprieve.

I swallowed nervously and bit my lip, trying to think of how best to describe this insanity without appearing insane. There were so many ways this was going to go wrong…I hoped they'd at least feed me while I was enjoying my stay in the brig before the crazy house.

The nervous, uneven pounding of my heart and the painful twinge in my stomach, making me regret eating as much as I had, were not helping matters any. The familiar cramp kicked up in my left forearm and I anxiously rubbed at the pained muscle, wishing there was a way out of this that didn't involve getting thrown in with the fish. Welp, we'll just start with the craziest and work our way up from there. "I'm from the future. More specifically, the 21st century."

The captain stared at me blankly for a few beats, then his jaw flicked in irritation, his expression growing darker. "I do believe that I asked you not to take me for a fool-"

"It's the truth!" I insisted, wondering if it was more dangerous for him to believe me or think I was crazy. "The day before I woke up on the Bountiful, mysteriously appearing I'd like you to remember, just ask Lady BeKatt, I was at home, in Jacksonville, North Carolina, United States of America. The date was May 18th, 2018. I'm not lying to you. Why would I lie about something like that? Or at least try something a little more believable?"

He blew a heavy breath and fixed me with a disbelieving stare. "I cannot claim to know why you are lying to me, señorita, but it will gain you no favors. As for you being aboard the Bountiful, it is simply a clerical error-"

I groaned in frustration, jumping to my feet, pacing around my chair. How do I make him understand? I cleared my throat and leaned on the back of the chair, jittering my leg as I figured I'd try a little close to home. "Alrighty, let's try this. When you think of the future, how do you think technology will advance?"

He blinked in surprise and I knew I had caught him off guard with this tangent. But apparently he decided he'd play along a little while. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the big desk as he continued to watch me with a warning expression, as if to say that whatever I had planned wasn't going to work. "I attended a lecture once, somewhat recently, about..." he paused, glancing up at the ceiling as he searched for the right word. "Predicciones?"

"Predictions." I nodded in encouragement. This was good, I could work with this. Here's hoping he wouldn't toss me overboard when we were through, assuming of course, I could convince him of the truth. "What sort of things did they imagine?"

He narrowed his eyes at me and was silent for a long moment, most likely trying to figure out what game I was playing. Not a game, big guy. Just trying to get my life together.

While I waited, I found myself observing him, unable to look away as I noted his angular cheekbones and the high brow which gave him a noble flare. His black sideburns were tidily cut, his hair still in its neat bun with a few wisps escaping, and I scanned over his face, trying to see if I could find anything I could describe as "cute". Really, it was a little sad that he was so masculine, didn't an ounce of cute on him that I could see.

I bit down on my tongue to keep from thinking how he'd react if I called him cute, then laughing like an idiot.

The captain resumed talking, still eyeing me suspiciously. "Much of their imaginings were quite fantastical. People able to fly like birds, with wings no less, and underwater boats. There was one in particular I found very amusing. Horseless carriages." He huffed in incredulity and shook his head. "Como si tales cosas sucedieran…"

Here goes nothing. I interlaced my fingers and stretched out, cracking all of the joints in both hands. "Your theorists were a little…off in their predictions."

He leaned back into his chair and motioned for me to continue with a faintly mocking smirk.

I winced and tasted blood as I bit too deeply into my lip, trying to quell the nervous trembling that was now infecting my entire body. If I'd been anywhere close to a railing, I'd have just jumped over by now, saved myself the hassle of my heart stopping from overstressing. "Wind, steam, gas, electric. Humanity advances by leaps and bound, untamed and unchecked by law or consequence. Where I'm from, this ship," I gestured to encompass the Silent Mary, "would be in a museum. It wouldn't be one of the most advanced warships of its time. That title would be held by destroyers or aircraft carriers. A single aircraft carrier is more than six times the length of the Mary, and more than capable of laying waste to an entire coast. And then some."

He didn't look even slightly convinced, but he was still listening. This man was dangerously intelligent, and didn't seem prone to superstitious nonsense. So how did I prove the truth to someone like this when all I had was superstitious nonsense?

I sat back down in the chair. "Those horseless carriages? We call them cars. Almost every individual owns a car in the United States, some people own more than one. You mentioned underwater boats. They're called submarines. They hold weapons of such destruction as to make your entire country uninhabitable if they fired just one."

Rubbing my face, I tried to think of something I could say that would make him believe me. If only I could have brought anything with me aside from the clothes on my back…

He suddenly surged to his feet in a powerful movement before I could think of anything and I shrank back into my chair. The expressions flickering rapidly over his face scared me before he strode over to stand in front of the bay windows.

I trembled with churning, bitter cramps of anxiousness and tried to focus on the map on the wall behind his chair. My breath had shortened into nervous pants. It seems he's entertaining the idea. And he's not happy about it.

And then I heard ominous boot heels behind me and felt heat not my own spread along my neck and scalp like a touch as he bent over me. I could feel faint breath tickling my ear and all the muscles along my spine clenched.

"Do you recall what I told you earlier?" he asked silkily, his shivering baritone holding a menacing note.

I shrank even further into the chair and managed a faint squeak. The controlled aggression building behind me was making my vision start to shrink. How badly will he hurt me?

He made a deep noise in anger, still looming over me. "I told you that I do not like being lied to, señorita, and if you think this is going to end well for you, I would suggest that you think this through again."

He grabbed my right upper arm, ignoring my yelp of pain as his fingers sank deep into that deep bruise, and hauled me up out of the chair. I was yanked uncomfortably close to him as he leaned down, ignoring my struggles to get free as his fingers twisted deeper into my bruise.

"I do not suffer liars lightly and I'm of a mind to return to you to a cell, at least until you're more willing to tell me the truth-"

The pain of his fingers digging into my bruise was too much and I smacked his hand, twisting wildly to escape the pain. "Let me go, you fucking bastard!" I yelled, wrenching myself free and skittering backwards out of his reach as he reared back, tucking my arm tight to try and ease the pain, the sharp ache fueling a growing anger, one that far outstripped the panic.

I glared at him through watery eyes as my arm throbbed sickeningly, watching his surprised expression morph into something that looked like remorse as he immediately realized he'd hurt me.

Salazar was not a man to be taken lightly, that I understood all too clearly, and vaguely wondered if this was the same man that had stolen my food and let me get away with kicking him in the shin. I bared my teeth and shied away from him when he reached out as if to grab me again.

"Don't you touch me," I hissed painfully through gritted teeth, my bruise still sharply pulsing in hot, nauseating waves as tears of pain started to trickle down my cheeks.

"Motherfucker!" I spat at the wall as I stumbled away, wanting anything to ease the throbbing; painkillers, anesthesia, a bullet. God, it hurt! "If it's any consolation, I don't think you're an idiot, but I'm certainly not thinking anything charitable right now!"

I was standing on the far side of the table, Salazar moving closer, when I realized I had an exit route.

And he'd threatened to put me in a cell again.

I bolted for the door, hurriedly fumbling for the lock as I heard him quickly moving to cut off my escape. I don't think so! The lock clicked and I yanked the door open, almost smacking him in the face with it as I dashed down the corridor, ignoring his command to stop. Like fucking hell!

I ran blindly, dodging and darting around crew and corners, heading down deeper in the depths of the Silent Mary's belly where I could hopefully find a safe place to hide, where I could sort out the pain and fear and frustration.

A stitch seized up my side and I had to stop, panting for breath as I glanced around wildly. It seemed I was in a cargo hold, crates stacked neatly to the support rafters above. I eyed one particular stack and saw that I could climb up to the rafters to hide. Not my best hiding spot, but it was out of the way and out of reach. I wouldn't be in an immediate line of sight unless someone looked up.

I crept along the beams until I managed to squeeze myself into a small nook that had been built to house the support. I was practically invisible here, and took the opportunity to try and straighten my rampant thoughts and emotions. Violent shudders wracked my body as pain still pulsed in ugly waves along my arm and I wondered belatedly if he'd broken it. I moved it gently and hissed at the hot branding iron under my skin, but it was still mobile, so I felt safe in assuming it was still in one piece. The bruises continued to hurt like a bitch, though, and they weren't stopping. I wasn't sure how'd I gotten that particular one on my arm, if I'd inadvertently smacked it hard against something or if it was where that garbage had grabbed me in the prison cell, but it wasn't healing as well as it should have been. Or maybe it was just taking a really long time, I didn't know. Then I remembered I'd only been rescued a few days ago. It felt almost like a lifetime ago...

Resting my forehead against my knees, I felt like I didn't know anything anymore. I wasn't even sure which was up. I started regulating my breathing, inhaling slowly in deep, rattling breaths, and tried to calm my adrenaline high, but my heart kept racing at its fast, ragged clip, not slowing down in the slightest.

Trembling, I could feel drops trailing down my cheeks and I couldn't even be surprised that I was crying. I was scared, I was upset, my arm still hurt, I was trapped on a ship in the middle of an ocean with nowhere to go, and I was suffering from culture shock. When people fantasized about time traveling, say to meet their favorite character or whatnot, they never thought about culture shock, especially if it was without any warning beforehand. And I could personally say, it was a bitch. Though, I had to grudgingly admit, at least the company made for good eye candy. I huffed a wry laugh.

Boot heels clicking heavily on wood jolted me out of my meditation and I jerked my head up to see Capitán Salazar stride through the doorway into the hold.

How in the flying fuck did he know where I was!? Sure, I might have knocked a couple of crew into the walls, but there hadn't been anyone down the last couple of corridors. Unless this was purely a coincidence.

He stopped a few feet away from the doorway and stood still, not moving, and somehow I knew that he recognized I was in this room. How the hell he knew that, I couldn't say, unless this was the only place to hide down here, but the Mary was a big ship, I was positive there were more places to hide.

But those fucking little tingles that tickled across my skin as soon as he entered a room might have given it away if he felt them, something I sincerely doubted.

The scared little girl was rapidly being replaced by a boiling, red-hazed anger, a rage built from frustration and fear, two very potent emotions if shaken, not stirred. The tremors wracking my body now were from this new roiling tempest, rather than trembles of fear, but even with the angry tears streaking down my face, I welcomed the change of emotions. I glared at him from the safety of the shadows, baring my teeth and wishing I could attack him, vent my anger on him the way he'd vented his frustrations on me, but it wouldn't do me any good. He was much bigger and the strength of his frame quite evident, even if I hadn't felt it. He wouldn't get taken out by a drowned little rat sinking her teeth into his neck and ripping out an artery.

I bit the meaty flesh of my hand between my thumb and forefinger, the stinging pain helping to relieve the angry frustration that had nowhere to go. I knew I was leaving deep teeth marks, but I didn't care. It was a little bit of a release, and it stopped me from doing something stupid, like attacking a certain Spanish captain.

"You cannot hide down here forever." His voice seized my attention and I narrowed my eyes, snarling silently over my hand. I don't have to hide forever. Just until you leave, asshole!

"And I'm not leaving until you come out."

Of course the fucker's a mind reader. I angrily rolled my eyes so hard it was a little surprising they didn't get stuck, the rage fanning higher. I bit deeper into my hand, trying to stave it off some.

Salazar abruptly moved, stepping further through the hold, directly past my hiding spot. The flare of triumph at having successfully thwarted the asshat, no matter how small, doused my rage just enough that I was able to let go of my hand, wrinkling my nose at the drool coating my palm. Eugh…gross. I wiped it off on my shirt, noting the purple, well-defined teeth marks in my skin that would probably take a while to fade. But the action had done its purpose. I hadn't tried to break his nose-

"Come down, Señorita Isabeau. Por favor."

Translations (Courtesy of Google Translate)

Como si tales cosas sucedieran - As if such things would come to pass.

Okay, so first things first; here's where I feel the liberties really come into play. The "predictions" that Salazar talks about, near as I can tell, haven't been imagined until the 19th century, but I felt it would be better for Isabeau to have some basis to build on. I apologize for that. I also apologize for any facts Isabeau got wrong, I don't always have time to fact-check.

Secondly, I did some revising in this from the original draft and I have to say, I am a lot more pleased with how it rolled out. And just so you can look forward to clicking that "next chapter" button even more (cuz you know I ain't gonna leave you hangin'), he makes up for being a butt in the next one.

And so, tallyho!