For a short while, Robin dreamt that he was on a ship that was in the midst of a great storm. He was standing all alone on the main deck. Every time he tried to call out for help, a gigantic wave would crash into the ship, sending him violently sprawling on the cold ground. Rain poured down hard like drops of bullets onto his drenched body. It soon became harder to get back on his feet. High above among the dark ominous clouds, flocks of sparrows hovered around the ship's torn sails, mocking Robin with their high-pitched cries.

A loud clap of thunder woke Robin up to the real danger he and the Pearl were in.

The Black Pearl really was in a storm; one as violent as the storm in his dream. Was his dream a vision of the future? Robin quickly looked up at the sails but didn't see any sparrows flying over him. Shaking his waterlogged head, Robin hurriedly got to his feet, ignoring the rising panic inside of him.

Though unsteady on his cramped legs, Robin carefully lowered himself onto the soaked rope ladder. He began to slowly descend. Almost a third of the way down, the Pearl began to suddenly teeter back and forth like a cradle. Robin cried out fearfully as the right side of his body flung away from the ladder. Had his left wrist not gotten tangled up with the rope, he would have plummeted to his death. But no, the searing pain pulsing through his left arm assured Robin that he was still alive and hanging on the ladder by a thread of luck. With fierce determination, Robin gritted his teeth and slowly swung his body securely back onto the soaked rope ladder before closing the huge gap between him and the main deck.

Just as he jumped off the rope ladder, a wave struck the right side of the ship and sent it careening off to the other side. Robin cried out again as he fell onto his back and rolled like a barrel until his left side hit a tied longboat, stopping his completely. Robin groaned and rapidly blinked away the white spots popping into his vision. His left wrist seemed to be the source that was pumping more pain throughout his body. Far off, Robin saw a ball of light bobbing to and fro like some naughty fairy. It seemed to be getting closer. He reached out to it with his right hand and smiled crookedly at it until the light was directly above him.

"Are you alrigh', Robin?"

Robin closed his eyes and stubbornly shook his head in the affirmative. "I'm okay captain," he said, but his voice sounded feeble against the howl of the wind.

Jack rolled his eyes and muttered a stream of curses that ended with "bloody hell." Whatever the boy denied, it showed clearly on his body. Jack hung his lantern off the nearest hook and bent low over Robin. With ease, Jack pulled his cabin boy to his feet and slung his left arm over his wide shoulder.

"My wrist!" Robin hissed as he felt Jack's rings cut into his injured wrist. He felt the pirate's grip lessen as Robin forced himself back into the right state of mind.

"Do you think you could walk?" Jack yelled over the din of the storm. A flash of thunder illuminated the boy's face, and it looked ghastly pale to him.

Robin shrugged off of Jack and stared determinedly up at him. "I said I was fine," he shouted.
Jack nodded as he retrieved his lantern. "Then go and wake up the rest of the bloody crew!" he ordered. "How they could sleep in this ruckus is beyond me!"

"Aye, captain!" Robin yelled before he turned away and ran towards the hatch. He stumbled down the winding stairs until he burst into the crew's quarters. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP!" Robin hollered. He ran to each man nearest to him and threw them off of their hammocks.

"What's the meaning of this, Mr. Rob-ahh!" Gibbs yelled as he too was thrown out of his hammock. Yet Gibbs' answer came in the form of a drum-like roll of thunder that seemed to shake the entire ship.

Chaos instantaneously began to wash over the men as everyone made a mad scramble to throw on their clothes and boots and then report to the main deck.

"All ye lazy, one-eyed sea slugs tie in yer bloody lifelines! We're in for a rough night!" Jack ordered.

"You heard the captain, boys! Tie in those lifelines!" Gibbs echoed as he ran up the stairs leading to the helm at the same time he himself was tying his lifeline around his thick waist.

"Robin!" Jack called from the helm as he caught sight of the boy emerging from the hatch. Once Jack attracted Robin's attention, he ordered the cabin boy to make sure all lifelines were secure.

Saluting, Robin first moved towards Zanka who seemed to be trembling so much that the end of his lifeline that he was trying to tie around his waist kept slipping from his hands. "Come one, Zanka! It's just like tying down a bloody boat back in Bridgetown's harbor!" Robin coaxed as he tied the rope securely around Zanka's waist

"Which I never did, bradda!" Zanka yelled before Robin ran to all three masts were the other ends of the lifelines were being tied to. With deft speed that moments of danger and panic could only provide, Robin moved methodically to each rope, pulling at or retying any that were too loose. As he was halfway finished with the knots on the main mast, he felt a presence behind him.

"Get outta me way, runt!" Adder's voice ominously shouted down at him.

Before Robin had the chance to get out of the pirate's way, he was taken by the arms and bodily flung into the side of a longboat. Robin felt the longboat crack from beneath him as his body connected with the hard wood. His very breath slammed out of his lungs. Hot liquid slowly tickled down the side of his face. Robin began to cough uncontrollably as he slid down the side of the boat.

And then, the ship careened once more to the side. Down below, the cords holding down the heavy cannons strained mightily under the weight until one by one, they all snapped, sending the cannons rolling to the leaning side of the ship.

Robin was only vaguely aware of the cries and shouts of alarm from the crewmen as the Pearl tilted so hazardously on the side opposite of which Robin lay at. The Pearl was in danger of completely turning over. Robin barely registered his father ordering all the crewmen to run to the side of the ship where Robin laid to counter the weight of the cannons.

"Bradda, wot be ya doin' down dere?!" Zanka screamed as he grabbed onto his best friend's collar before he could slip away. With his other hand, Zanka grabbed onto the railing. His eyes widened in horror as he beheld the thick line of blood running down the side of Robin's head.

"Zanka?" Robin said groggily.

"Hold on, bradda. We'll get ya outta here!" Zanka promised as he tightened his grip on Robin's collar. "Just stay awake!" The blood was coming from a gash just below his temple, and if Robin were to fall asleep, he might never wake up again.

"Wake me up in five minutes," Robin slurred as his eyelids began to droop despite Zanka's protests.

Just then, another great wave hit the ship. Robin was dislodged from Zanka's grip. Amidst Zanka's yells, Robin slid across the deck and then tumbled into the tumultuous waters.

"MAN OVERBOARD!!" Gibbs howled as the ship finally righted itself.

Jack's hand dove into his coat and extracted his telescope. He pointed it towards the spot where Gibbs was pointing towards. Jack's heart leaped with surprise as he barely caught sight of Robin's head bobbing up and down amongst the waves. "What are ye all stupidly lookin' at?" Jack yelled at the men watching in amazement along the railing. "Haul 'im back on board, ye bilge-sucking fiends!"

"Heave to, men!" Gibbs shouted harshly. He started towards the stairs but was pushed back as Jack zoomed past him, arms flailing.

Robin was caught between wanting to struggle for his life and wanting to just close his eyes and sleep between the waves. Yet the latter seemed impossible as wave after wave crashed over his head and sent him tumbling further from the Pearl. Robin opened his mouth to call for help but only succeeded in partly filling his lungs with salty seawater. Suddenly, he was dunked entirely into the icy water. The only thing he could see now were many bubbles caused by his vain attempts to reach back to the top. It was then, between his fight for survival and his half-delirium, that he saw her.

Not knowing whether this was a hallucination or not, but still shocked at what his eyes were looking upon, Robin stopped moving his limbs and merely watched as she swam around him. As the bubbles disappeared, his vision of her became clearer. She had a long, scaly blue tail that made the water around him pulse with each careless flick. A mermaid! As she drew nearer to him with no sign of fear on her face, Robin could now discern her seaweed-green eyes amid long, dark eyelashes. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the water despite a raging storm above them. Now Robin was sure this was a hallucination. Or was she here to take him to Davy Jones' locker? This last thought panicked Robin and he began to thrash away from her.

Then, all of a sudden, the rope still tied around his mid-riff jerked him back, away from the mermaid even as she smiled coyly at him and waved goodbye with her tail. The next thing Robin knew, he was lying on the deck of the Black Pearl, coughing up both water and blood. He felt as if he was a newborn, weak and frail as he stared up at two familiar faces. "Zanka? G-Gibbs?" he croaked.

"Hang on, lad. We'll get you warm soon," Gibbs assured the shivering boy. What he failed to mention was the physical state Robin was in. Blood still poured from the gash on his head. He seemed to have also mangled his left wrist. Gibbs ordered Zanka to untie the rope from around Robin's waist.

"How is he, Mr. Gibbs?" Jack inquired as he drew nearer with a lantern in hand. All around this little group, the rest of the men were attending to the rest of the ship. Yet to these four, they seemed like the only ones on the ship. Seeing the blue around the edges of the boy's lips, Jack immediately shrugged off his coat and placed it around Robin's body. After a long pause, Jack also placed his hat on Robin's head, over the gash, for good measure.

Gibbs looked across the boy at his captain curiously at first but then it was replaced with a grave face. "There's a chance that he'll be all right. It's clear he's lost a lot o' blood, Jack. We have to get him out o' this filthy weather immediately and clean up that wound on his head 'fore it gets infected."

Jack nodded. He looked down at Robin and saw that the boy's pain-stricken dark brown eyes were already looking at him. For an unknown reason, Jack's heart went to the boy. "Yer gonna be fine, son," Jack assured him.

Robin cracked a very small smile for the first time since they were last face to face. "That's good to hear," he muttered before he passed out.

When Robin awoke, he was laying snuggly in a hammock that hung very close to a wall. Robin was no longer outside in the storm but in what looked like a cabin. His first instinct was to sit up, but when he tried, he found that pain shot through his body like electricity.

"I wouldn't try that again," a gruff voice called from somewhere behind him.

Robin watched as Jack Sparrow drew into his line of vision. In his hands was a full bottle of rum. "Whaz that for?" Robin's voice came out raspy and almost feeble.

Jack smiled wryly. "Well, it's clearly not to clean the multiple wounds you sustained out there," he said. "I'm merely going to drink it and watch you moan and groan until your cuts start to ooze over with pus."

Robin began to laugh but it quickly turned into a groan. "I feel as if a carriage just ran over me with full force from behind," he wheezed. He reached towards his head where a blinding headache was starting to form. His fingers brushed a bandage wound loosely around his head.

"We did find a giant bruise on yer back," Jack told him. "What happened there?"

Robin grimaced, wondering whether Jack was asking about his head or his back and how much he should actually say. "I fell," he ended up saying.

Jack raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You fell?" he repeated. "On your head?" Jack shook his head as he popped the cork. The wonders of falling, he thought sarcastically. He had no doubt that Robin did more than fall to receive a gash like that, but no matter. What did Jack care?

Robin eyed the bottle warily as its open top moved to Jack's lips. His mother had on multiple occasions used alcohol to clean his more serious wounds, but that fact still didn't help to mollify Robin from the pain the alcohol always created.

Jack picked up a clean piece of bandage off of his writing desk and soaked it with rum. When he turned to Robin, he noticed the look the young boy was trying to hide from him. The corner's of Jack's lips quirked slightly between disgust and amusement. "Don't be such a woman," he reprimanded. "We're starting with that gash on yer head."

So Robin gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes tightly shut as Jack bent over him and first unwound the bandage. Gibbs had done quite a good job in cleaning the blood that had caked over the gash, but as Jack observed after he threw away the soiled bandage, yellowish pus was starting to pour from the said wound. After wetting the cloth again, Jack took a large swig before he began to labor over Robin's wound. And labor Jack did. Robin fidgeted under the cloth so that Jack nearly had to hit him to keep him still.

"You are the worst patient ever," Jack muttered darkly as he threw the cloth away and then took another swig of rum. He passed it over to Robin who promptly took a drink. Jack quickly took the bottle away before he could drain it all. "We still need that."

Robin looked up at him with horror written all over his face. "For what?" he yelped.

Jack nodded over to Robin's left wrist, which was loosely bandaged as his head had been. "You managed to mangle yer wrist there, lad," Jack told him in a stern tone that clearly said to Robin that he wasn't going to convince Jack to not clean it. Jack reached over to the wrist, but Robin quickly moved it out of his reach. Jack rolled his eyes. "Stop being stubborn, ye yellow-bellied cur," he cursed. He tried again to grab Robin's wrist, but again Robin moved away from Jack.

"No way!" Robin protested loudly. "My head burns as if it were on fire because of you cleaning it! I'd be as mad you if I'd let you pour the rest of the bottle over my wrist!" The hammock shook precariously from beneath him as he turned and twisted his body away from Jack in vain attempts to avoid the inevitable pain.

Finally, Jack threw up his hands in defeat and stepped back. "Alrigh'! If ye want to die of an infected wound, then fine by me!" he exclaimed angrily. Jack turned his back on Robin, and the latter sighed in relief despite the dire warning. Yet relief swiftly turned to alarm as Jack spun back around and made a wild grab at Robin's wrist.

"No!" Robin yelled in Jack's ear as they struggled on top of the hammock. "Oww!" Robin shouted as Jack decided to pour the rest of the rum all over Robin's torso, including his left arm. His wrist burned as the spiced alcohol seeped through the bandage and drenched the wound.

Jack jumped off of Robin and smirked triumphantly down at him. But before Jack could get in a few choice words, something caught his eye. It was a golden glint coming from the boy's chest, underneath the open soaked shirt he wore. Robin watched with growing alarm as Jack used his free hand and lifted the golden pendant of the soaring bird perfectly into view.

A flurry of emotions washed over Jack's face. Confusion and shock were two that were the most transparent in Jack's eyes. It was these two emotions that Jack pierced Robin with after a moment. "Where did you get this?" Jack demanded as his eyes continually traveled from the pendant to Robin and back again. Jack couldn't believe his eyes. This couldn't be the same necklace. However, his thumb rubbed against the little silver bell the soaring bird held in its beak and no sound came from it.

Robin took the necklace from his father's hand and took a deep breath before he forced himself to sit upright. "I got this from my mother," he said slowly. He looked up at Jack and saw the shock written all over his father's handsome features.

"You can't have," Jack said softly, disbelievingly. He shook his head and took a step away from the boy. "I haven't heard from her in years." What was he saying? Did he actually acknowledge that Emelia Kraven was this boy's mother, or did Jack's rum-muddled mind just jump to that conclusion because it seemed convenient?

"Thirteen, to be exact," Robin added carefully. He could see that Jack was having a lot of trouble trying to discern whether he was telling the truth or not.

Jack shook his head stubbornly. A guarded look masked his shock now. "Ye can't have known that. Who are you?" he demanded. He smashed the end of the empty rum bottle against the side of his writing desk and then held out the jagged end threateningly at Robin, whose mouth was now slightly hung open with his own shock.

Robin slid off the hammock and swayed unsteadily on his feet for a moment. He stumbled over to the deck and leaned heavily upon it for support. With as much dignity as he could muster, Robin stood up as high as his height would allow and lifted his chin challengingly that painfully reminded Jack of Emelia Kraven.

"I am Robert Jacob Kraven," he said fiercely. "My mother is Emelia Kraven, and I am your son."

Jack shook his head slowly. "Mr. Robin, you are a bloody liar! I do not have a son, and if I had, it wouldn't be to a weak child like you," he yelled, hardening his heart against the look of immense hurt on the young boy's face. "I don't tolerate liars well! When we make port in Tortuga, you will be promptly left there along with your nuisance of a companion, Zanka Coffei - unless you claim that he is also my son!"

"How can you say that?!" Robin shouted back. "I am your son! I can tell that you've felt some sort of feeling that this is true! You can tell that I'm your-"

"Get out! Get out of my sight!" Jack roared. He pointed to the double doors.

Robin looked beseechingly at Jack Sparrow. "Please, father-"

"NOW!" Jack shouted. Jack couldn't bear to hear that name.

He waited until Robin staggered hazardously out of his quarters. Once the double doors slammed shut behind the hurt and shocked boy, Jack turned around and blindly threw the broken bottle against the wall where it shattered loudly. Jack strode over to his chair and threw himself upon it. He closed his eyes and pulled his tricorn hat tightly over his face so that only his frown could be seen. His mind was a great torrent of confusion, shock, and anger. Jack couldn't even begin to discern any reason in his thoughts, but one thing he was most certain was that boy who had watched him make a raving lunatic of himself with sad, dark brown eyes truly was the son of Emelia Kraven and Jack Sparrow.

And all he could ask was, "Why didn't she tell me?"