I actually finished this chapter! :'D I am SO proud of myself. It didn't want to be written at all =.='' (And it took me SO long T-T) I'm thinking it holds a grudge against me. But like, who wouldn't? Lol

I wanted to update as much as possible before I'm off to Finland and then Germany. I'm staying in Finland for 4 days at an anime con WITH a friend I met here on FF :D And I'll be a transfer student in a German school for a month - it's the same school ANOTHER friend of mine that I met here, on FF, attends! :D :D My dreams are finally coming true :'3

Anyway, I HONESTLY tried to NOT give you a cliffhanger this time, seeing how long it takes me to update and all, and I think I succeeded. Sort of. Yeah. I tried.

Hope you like it:

Chapter 11

"The difference between the pocket of an honest man and a cheater is that you might find a shilling in the first, but the second is full of guineas," Sasori said from the bed as he watched Deidara dig out their last bottle of rum from the casket and place it on the table. "Remember that, Deidara? You're not among British gentlemen anymore. This is a whole different deal. Remember."

(A/N: Shilling was a silver coin, guinea was golden.)

"I do remember," Deidara confirmed and pointed at the bottle. "Do not drink it up in one gulp. It's the last one. I do not know when I'll get back."

"Brat, do I look like I need you to teach me?" Sasori grunted and wrapped a hand around the blond's hips, as he was standing just by the bed, and pulled him down to him. Deidara landed with a plop that sent the bed into slight motion; Sasori winced at the sharp pain that pierced through his shoulder and his eyes clenched shut.

Deidara froze on his spot, and did not even dare to exhale before Sasori opened his eyes, giving him a wicked smirk. "Stop with that look. I'm a lot tougher than you make me out to be, brat."

Deidara sighed, devastating worry clouding his eyes. His figure shrunk visibly when his shoulders caved forward and he had the look close to what he'd been like last night. His eye was half-lidded – the other covered with a black patch and his blonde fringe as always – and fixed downwards, lips quivering slightly. He bit the lower one to halt them.

Now it was Sasori's turn to sigh. Oh, how much this brat still had to learn. He just wasn't sure a pirate ship was the best place for those lessons.

He pressed his lips against the blond's forehead, and the other slightly raised his head. A blue eye closed slowly. Sasori moved his lips down to the blond's and was welcomed gently. Deidara's lips moved in synchrony with his and parted as soon as they felt nibbling on the lower lip. Sasori slithered his tongue in.

Deidara felt weak, swayed by the overwhelming emotions, and wrapped his arms around the redhead. His head was swimming and became forgetful; for the moment he was able to forget all his problems and fears. The only thing that existed in his mind was what was there and then. It wasn't the first time that Sasori had overtaken all of the younger male's senses. It wasn't a good habit – definitely not – but at least it stopped Deidara from worrying for a while.

When Deidara finally left the compartment, he was as armed as he'd been last night. A knife tucked away in his boot, a smaller gun tucked away in the other; a sword in his sash and more pistols. Sasori wouldn't let him out of sight without this equipment.

He met up with Madara on the deck. This time, Deidara didn't recognize any remarkable signs of malice on his face or in his tone, but what he said next erased all the foolish hope he might've had for having him go easy on him.

"Clean up the room." Things were not improving.

Deidara did not need to ask which room. There was only one room Madara would've had him clean and that was the one the dead Iwaga servants were lying in. As soon as Madara had motioned for a sailor to bring him a rag and a bucket, and had turned away, Deidara squatted and puked into the bucket.

He had to clean it later, using the water from a nearby faucet. He felt faint now – there had not been much food in his belly to begin with – which made the task many times harder.

The door to the Room of Blood (as Deidara had dubbed it) was unlocked this time around. When he opened it, he was greeted by a stench as horrible and sickening as it had been the night before. Deidara was sure he would puke again eventually as he started off by heaving one servant onto his back and dragging him out of the room.

Imagine you don't know him. This is someone else's corpse, Deidara needed to tell himself as he arduously made his way down the hallway and towards the stairs that led to the deck, but the nauseous feeling in his stomach did not cease. As he heard something in the corpse snap behind him, sending another wave of nausea lurching through him, he became sure of his need for another strategy to use on himself.

There's no dead man on your back. It's only a bag of heavy rocks. Just a bag of heavy rocks, he started to continuously repeat in his head as his feet kept dragging him forwards, up the stairs to the deck. His shoulders and back hurt from the weight, he was sure to have more bruises later and Sasori would scold him, but he bore with it. He only had one priority, one goal, everything else was irrelevant. His well-being was irrelevant. It was not a part of his priority.

He rested the corpse on the wooden bulwark, closing his eyes to avoid looking at the body. He was panting so hard his head was reeling. He felt weak in the knees and his heart was pounding. But his head was the worst, his mind. The thoughts. The decision. Even though he didn't have a choice, throwing the - gulp - body off the deck was still a hard decision to make. He felt like he could not do it. Even though he was dead, even though there was no saving him, still...

A roaring voice shouted through the air, "Ship on the horizon!"

Deidara took a second to glance around.

In less than half a minute, the deck was packed with hustling pirates, in the middle of them standing Madara, shouting orders.

"Plunder the loot! No quarter! No loot, ya'll find Davy Jones locker waiting for ya!"

It took Deidara a moment to understand that A, a ship was about to be reaved, and B, if the pirates did not return with anything of value, they would be thrown off the ship into the depths of the ocean.

It took him another moment to realize that this applied to him, too.

"Bloody hell," he muttered.

Scattering the sailors, Madara stepped up to the blond, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the dead body lying on the ground.

"Oh for the love of," he muttered and picked the corpse up before Deidara's eyes and pushed it into the water. "I cannot imagine why Sasori has yet to put a bullet in yer tiny brain."

He rushed back into the crowd.

They neared the ship at a formidable speed, the wind tearing at the coal black flag flying above them. Deidara's hair was being tousled, blown out of his face to reveal his eye patch at one second and pushed into his face to blind him the next.

But Deidara did not take notice of this. His sweaty hands were clasping and unclasping the handles of his sword and pistol.

On the contrary to what he had expected himself to feel, he was neither shocked nor terrified. Pure excitement was running through his veins, joy for the chance to finally prove himself. He wanted both Sasori and Madara to know that he was worth much more than either of them gave him credit for. He was ready to launch into action, he so was!

At least that was what he kept telling himself. He couldn't still his slightly shaking hands completely.

"Prepare yourself, maties!"

They finally came side to side with the other ship. Deidara backed down from where he was standing towards the middle of the deck; he did not wish to be right at bulwark, should the enemies not hesitate to open fire at them.

He heard Madara yelling commands to hook their ship onto the enemies' and pirates shouting as they went to fulfill those commands (God forbid them from doing anything quietly). Deidara's thoughts momentarily flickered to Sasori. The redhead brought a smile to his face, helping to build his courage up. He was going to make Danna proud. He was sure he could do it. He could do anything for Danna.

Planks were fastened between the two ships and pirates rushed across them, swords slicing and pistols firing as they did so. Deidara swallowed and decided to follow. The only way for him to do it was to not think; he just had to jump into the chaos and let his reflexes guide him through it all.

So, after an oddly running crew member had climbed onto the nearest plank to him and left, Deidara followed suit, drawing out his sword. He did not wish to waste bullets when they were not absolutely necessary.

There was an eager and angry-looking seaman waiting to greet him with a sword of his own on the other side. That was the first duel Deidara had ever participated in. All his coaches and father's tips and instructions echoing in his head, he went head on to attack the guy. He could tell the other had not been expecting this, probably taking his youth for inexperience.

But Deidara was far from a weak opponent. He fought skillfully, finally making the other accidentally drop his sword. Moving faster than lightning, he stepped on it, breaking it to bits. He glanced up at the seaman, a victorious smile on his face. His first duel and his first win.

The seaman looked scared now. Deidara quickly came to the realization that he was expecting him to kill him. Deidara hesitated. He'd never killed anyone by sword. It was completely different from just shooting someone. A lot messier and seeming more cruel, more barbaric.

This was what Deidara's hesitation cost him - the guy ran away. The boy cussed under his breath, but decided to cut his losses. The number of deaths by his hands wasn't what mattered either way - it was the weight of something shiny that did.

Trying to avoid any further encounters, Deidara snuck through a door into a more peaceful corridor, away from the clash. He moved swiftly down the stairs and found himself in a carpeted corridor. All the doors were closed and Deidara, knowing the interiors of the ships made back then well, suspected them to be bedrooms.

He touched the knobs on the first few doors until he found one that was unlocked. He pushed it open, hoping to find something valuable inside, so he could get off this ship as soon as possible. It turned out to be, as suspected, a well-decorated bedroom.

Deidara looked around a bit. It had been long since he'd been in an environment like this; the life of dirty pirates had completely worn off on him and he had trouble trying to imagine living some place like that again.

A quiet sob sounded from the bed and Deidara whirled around hastily. Pistol drawn out and finger placed on the trigger, he paced cautiously towards the bed. Hand reached out, he grabbed the sheet and jerked it off in one quick motion.

His eye widened at what was revealed.

A youthful girl, no older than 15, was crouched on the bed, pointing the gun muzzle straight at the blond pirate. Yes, Deidara considered himself a pirate now. He was a pirate and this was his test to become accepted as one. He was going to make it and make Sasori proud.

"I-I will shoot!" the girl stuttered in fear, her hands shaking like an earthquake.

Deidara's eyes narrowed slyly. The girl spoke English, which pleased him as it made things easier for him. "So will I," he replied. "Guess who, out of the two of us, won't miss? You ,with those weak, shaking hands, or me?"

"I'm not weak!" the girl burst out, but there was only so much she could do to sound brave. Her face was pale as a sheet and Deidara suspected she was close to fainting.

"I'll cut you a deal," he said, only half-aware of how many pirate codes he was going against. The right pirate way would have been to just shoot her, God knew he was faster than her with her limp hands, but Deidara hadn't grown a heart that cold to do that yet. "You don't shoot, I don't shoot. I'll get some valuables - such as that pretty necklace you've got around your neck" - Deidara pointed at the blue diamond necklace hanging out from the girl's nightgown - "and I'll be on my way. Savvy?"

The girl gulped, but didn't answer. Her hands were shaking violently, like they couldn't bear the weight of a gun upon them.

Deidara sighed impatiently, reminding himself of Sasori just for a moment. He did not have time for this. He pulled out his sword and in a swift movement swung it against the pistol hard, making it jump out of the girl's hands and clash onto the floor. Deidara kicked it with his foot away from the bed.

"Now stay still," he snarled, "until I get my work done."

The female gazed at him with wide teary eyes, but Deidara didn't let them move him. He needed to get back to Danna and no puppy-faced fille was going to waste more of his time. He hadn't even done anything to her yet and she was already crying! It pissed the blond off. He sure hadn't been this pathetic when his ship had got looted.

He reached out, paying no mind to the girl flinching when his hand brushed against her skin, and jerked the necklace off. It was a piece of beauty and he shoved it into his pocket. He moved to the nightstand by the bed and pulled open the upper drawer. He shoveled the pearls, earrings, necklaces, rings onto the sheet he'd got from the bed and repeated the action on the second and third drawer.

The girl's quiet sobs were driving him nuts and it took great patience to not slap him. Despite being a pirate in training as he was, he had not quite been raised by the wolves and did not wish to raise his hand against the weaker sex when he had the chance to avoid it. He knew Madara would have disapproved - and probably Sasori, too ("You're not among the British gentlemen anymore, brat!") - but... he wasn't them. He had his own ways. And he was going to complete this mission without having to worry about one more dead person appearing in his nightmares.

He'd just finished emptying the bottom drawer when he heard marching footsteps in the hallway outside. They didn't alarm him at first, he assumed them to be pirates and therefore calmly proceeded to tie the sheet into a Santa Clause style bag, but it was when he heard them speak that he realized something wasn't quite right.

He listened intently and sensed that the girl was listening, too.

"Do not let 'em in here! Protect thy daughters and wives!"

It wasn't so much the words he'd heard than the words he had not heard that got him alert and made his blood run cold. He had not heard a single cuss word. These were not the men he shared the ship with on a daily basis.

A sudden realization hit him and the following happened in a total of two seconds: his eyes darted to the girl and saw her open her mouth. His hand snapped up his pistol from the floor and pointed it at her, but not before she could utter a loud, high-pitched cry. Deidara's finger pulled the trigger.

A loud bang thundered through the air and everything went quiet. The girl lay down motionless.

A second later the door flung open and a group of four seamen burst in, swords ready in hands. Deidara did not have time for hesitation now; his body moved faster than his brain could grasp what was happening.

With two shots he killed off the first two men in the room and watched them fall down on the floor. That was when his luck ran out, though. One of the men flung himself at him and before he could pull the trigger again, his gun was grabbed out of his hand and a sharp punch caught in his face.

Deidara's hand searched for his sword. Propped on his elbow on the floor, he swung it at the attacker, slicing the front of his blouse and apparently some flesh, too, as the white fabric was quickly soaked in red. He jumped up, sword fixed in front of him when it clashed with another blade and he was flung into an unrestrained sword duel. He attacked and defended the best he could, but there was only so much he could do with killer pain throbbing in his arm and head. To his relief, neither the man he was fighting nor the man lying on the floor seemed to have any guns on them.

Unfortunately, neither did he. His own pistol was nowhere in sight and the girl's was lying at his opponent's feet. All he could do was to not give the other a chance to grab it.

Just like in his previous battle, Deidara managed to bat the sword out of the other's hand - a move he'd already begun to pride himself on. Unlike last time, he did not let it end there, though. He was so caught in the fight, almost like lost in frenzy, that his brain failed to register his actions before they were done. Moving on its own with such determination Deidara had no means to stop it, his sword moved back to his opponent after batting the other sword away and struck forward.

The metallic blade caught in the man's chest.

The incident shocked Deidara so greatly once he finally understood what had happened as the man collapsed on the floor that he let go of the sword handle, leaving the blade inside the man.

For an unmeasured time he stared at the five bodies lying in the room, all slaughtered by him. He was shocked to a numb state, standing there completely frozen, no part of his body moving.

This cannot be real. This is a nightmare. I'm only in a nightmare.

It was only when the man whose blouse he'd sliced coughed up blood, being apparently not completely dead yet, that Deidara finally caught a grip and grabbed the self-made treasure bag from the floor. Jumping over the corpses, he ran out of the room and headed towards the stairs. No sooner did he realize he'd picked the wrong direction did he hit a dead end at the end of the corridor. Swearing under his breath, he turned on his heel and sprinted towards the other end, his legs feeling wobbly like jelly.

He got up to the deck, his gaze searching for the nearest plank connecting the two ships. Having found one, he headed towards it, trying to ignore his aching head. He caught sight of hostages being escorted to their ship on other planks and other pirates crossing the pieces of wood, carrying everything from silver plates to golden clocks in their hands. Deidara congratulated himself on his personal loot - he had yet to see anyone return with as much as he had in the sheet.

His luck was bound to be cut short-lived, however. Halfway across the plank, something heavy caught in his back, kicking him off balance for the sea to swallow. By a miracle he managed to catch a hold of the board just in the nick of time, feeling the wooden surface become wet and slippery beneath his fingers.

A pirate with shaggy red hair appeared above him and smiled down at him cruelly as Deidara hung onto his dear life for all it was worth. The blond knew better than to hope for help from him as he was convinced the pirate had thrown something at him to make him fall and get out of his way in the first place. The only question was, whether or not he would step on his fingers to make him fall to his death instantly.

Their eyes locked for an intense moment, Deidara feeling fear gripping inside him. It didn't let him worry about the loot he'd just lost, all he wished was for his hands to hold on just a little bit longer so he could pull himself up.

And please, do not let that bastard step on him!

I'm almost dead anyway, what else do you want from me?! he wanted to shout at the pirate, but held his tongue.

The man seemed to be thinking the same, though, and thought it to be more fun to let the blond struggle rather than give him a quick death. He turned and crossed the plank quickly to his home ship, leaving Deidara at God's mercy.

Deidara gathered up his strength and started to pull himself up.

Drops of rain fell down, the rain getting heavy in a matter of minutes, making Deidara wonder, whether he was getting punished for a sin, tortured just for entertainment or tested even more to find out if he was worth being alive.

This is not where I will die, Deidara swore to himself as he heaved his upper torso onto the plank. The effort took so much out of him, his muscles felt on fire, but Deidara had decided long ago to ignore them. He could not die, yet. He had too many things left to do, too many things left undone should he die.

He kicked his foot in the air and caught it on the other side of the plank. With his full torso on the plank, he tried to stand up, but it soon became clear that would have only resulted in him losing his balance and falling again.

In crawling motions he made his way to the pirate ship, the rain pouring down on him, as though the clouds had decided to empty a gardening bucket on him. His blond hair stuck to his head and neck like glue, making it difficult to see as it covered almost completely his open eye as well. He could only depend on his limbs that kept moving forward until he reached the bulwark and flung himself onto the deck.

He fell down, face first, his breathing so heavy he feared his lungs would burst and his whole body aching so bad he could've sworn a herd of elephants had marched over him. With his final effort he flipped himself onto his back. In spite of all this, he felt relieved. He had made it. He had escaped from death twice and had got a single limb cut off. This was more than he had dared to hope.

The content feeling inside him lasted only so long until a familiar voice over him bellowed in the characteristic tone laced with malice, "Thou scum dare to return without loot?"

Deidara's first reaction was to argue back and sneer at Madara, as he had got a whole lot of loot - jewelry of all kind worth God knew how many pounds of gold! He heaved up and was about to throw the stolen goods in the Captain's face when his groping of the ground around him turned out to be fruitless.

There was nothing there, no loot.

Where had it gone?! Deidara felt himself panic. He'd got loot! He'd emptied three drawers of a girl's nightstand of all the accessories there and brought them back with him! Where had it gone?!

Bushy red hair was what came to his mind first after a total blank out. Then the spiteful face of the pirate that had shoved him off the plank.

Off the plank...

Deidara felt his insides grow cold as realization struck him with full force. He finally remembered where his loot had gone.

Right to the depths of Davy Jones' locker.

"Well?!" Madara demanded, staring down at the blond youth impatiently. "If nothing is all ya have, how about ye go crawling back to where ye came from and return with something before it's too late?" His gaze averted to the looted ship and he gave a snicker, seeing the deck empty. "Although I've a feeling we'll be departing. But ye've more business there than-"

The Captain quieted, seeing the boy extend his clenched hand towards him. He stared at the fist, arching an eyebrow. "What be this?" he inquired. "Ye offering me thy hand?"

Deidara's fist turned over and opened, the fingers revealing a blue diamond necklace.

"Here's your loot."

To be continued...