Disclaimer: 'Ello, ello. It is now…..very ate at night and I am very tired yet I flet the urge to write. So here we are, I'm a sleep deprived fan girl with way too much going on in her head to think straight right about now. Another chapter, more intrigue and a cameo by our favorite swamp witch- oopps- I mean very nice scary lady Tia Dalma. Hope this goes well, please R&R and I'll be back with another chapter as soon as I get some rest and return home from the heaven known as Wolverine which I'm seeing first showing in the morn! Love y'all -- PG1017

India

Two and a half miserable months had come and gone, but still not one escape attempt had come close to working for one very, very unhappy blonde, English girl. Emma Catherine Collins sat at a long table stirring what could only be called mush about on an antique plate, her host sat at the opposite end eating happily.

"If you do not eat now your curry will grow cold," he said in his practiced accent.

"My sister gets better food then this swill on the Black Pearl in the middle of the bleedin' winter," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear. While the taste of good Indian curry was quite the delicacy in normal circumstances, this curry was made by the cook Daniel had brought with him from his ship. From the taste of the dish it didn't seem like the man had much experience, for which the Captain was always saying that once he had gotten his inheritance one of his first actions was to hire a decent chef.

Emma scoffed, there was no way in all seven layers of hell that his brothers were going to just hand over the family stash to some one they had disowned some time ago…especially one this snarky. And there was even less of a chance that he was going to get the coordinates to the island most of it was held on as there was a better chance of Will Turner giving up Elizabeth for a life of pious prayer in an Italian monastery.

"Brandy, dear, would you find our guest some fare to her liking," he ordered the girl who stood at the back of the room with out even looking out up from his own dinner. In a way Emma felt sorry for her as it was obvious by now the first mate had a soft spot for him, not that she could ever figure out why, and he all but treated her like the hired help. Not only that but with him pushing her to be a damn near personal maid to one very disgruntled prisoner, who she could not even stand, there was no doubt a cat fight was bound to happen sooner then later.

"Aye, Captain," the young woman gritted out through clenched teeth and took the plate in hand and leaving the room as fast as her feet could take her.

"She's gonna turn on you one day."

"I highly doubt that, she owes me her life," only now did the fop lift his eyes.

"If you think that'll keep her from wantin' to wring my neck in my sleep then you're more stupid then I thought," she stood and paced so she wouldn't take her feelings out on the dinner ware. A stray lock of hair fell in her face, it was still very short but the longer she keep the unusual style the more she liked it- twas easier to care for. Another reason could possibly be that every once in a while her captor would mention how he disliked it, but that was only a wild guess.

"You have quite the imagination, my dear," he took a sip of wine.

"And don't be calling me that, I'm not your 'dear'," this time she did use an object to take her anger out on. The poor fork never knew what had happened until it was embedded into a wall still shaking from the force with which she hurled it, shame that Emma had good force but very poor aim.

"Do that again and I'll have to lock your door again tonight."

"Heh, like you don't do it every night anyway," her backbone had truly begun to show itself in her time in captivity. She caused Daniel Sparrow so much trouble now, and she loved every moment that he would slip in his perfect English or nearly lost his temper.

"That is it," he stood and strode in loud stomps over to where she was glaring at him with fierce brown eyes. Taking one of her arms in hand he drug her out of the dinning room, rudely knocking into Brandy as he marched past and made her drop the tray she carried and made a bowl of hot soup stain her clothes and burn her skin. Emma looked behind her, she caught a look of utter hopelessness in the others girls eyes before the hardened and turned hatefully at herself. The pair came to the room in which she locked into every night, he flung her in making her stumble and almost fall then slammed the door shut. Keys jingled behind the wood and soon the lock clicked, and so here was again-when she finally got out she swore she would get home and remove the lock on her door and take so much joy in utterly destroying it.

But that would have to wait until she actually could return home, where ever that was now….the poor girl began to grow somber now as her temper faded. Looking about dejectedly at the peeling paint and cracked walls she sighed before taking a seat on the floor, crossing her legs and supporting her elbows on her knees. Home was not Jamaica anymore, no doubt the damage had been done after their fiasco with Admiral Ragan most likely all three Collins' were wanted on trumped up charges of piracy. Oh well, she'd deal with that problem once she was reunited with her sisters…that thought made their smirk she had been wearing fall flat.

For all the hellfire she caused to Daniel's face once she was alone she turned a little bit back into her old self again-and honestly she was afraid. She missed her sisters, she missed playing with them and talking the non sense that only females understand and leaving the men in the dust of confusion. Did they realize she still lived? If they did were they coming for her or was she totally on her own?

Another thought came to her, one that comforted her in the night when she lay awake and staring at the ceiling, she thought of Zachariah and it made her cheeks grow warm. Fantasies like out of a fairy story came every so often, of him coming in sword in hand to save her from the wicked villain, those made her grin like an idiot and giggle to herself. Then she would have other imaginings, where she could finally discover a way to escape on her own, commandeer her own vessel just like certain others she knew and find the object of her affections on her own.

Footsteps out in the hallway caught her attention; she nearly stopped breathing to listen in, a trick she had learned very quickly. The steps came to a halt just on the other side of her door, a piece of paper slid beneath the crack above the floor and the foot falls retreated from whence they came. Just as quiet as the steps had been so was Emma as she slowly made her way across the floor to pick up the yellowed scrap of parchment, it was plain and not even folded. A few words were scrawled in a messy hand not so much worse then her own in black ink upon it.

'I'd Watch Myself if I were You - Brandy'

Emma scoffed, crumbling the note to a little ball and chucking it to the opposite side of the room. The bratty wench could make all the threats she wanted, but now that she had finally made a challenge her intended victim could at least know to truly be on the look out. For now, she decided that since she was locked in her room for the remainder of the night, it was a perfect time to go on to bed.

The Next Day

A cold feeling at her throat was the first thing Emma felt when she began to wake late the following morning, it did not take long to realize that chill was a very sharp blade being held to her flesh. Panic wanted to run high in her system, and it took all she had in her to force it down, on wrong move and she would have slit her own throat and making the glaring carrot-topped girl above her all the happier. So, in her best controlled voice which would obviously need practicing at if she lived long enough to do so, she spoke very carefully.

"Any reason for holding a knife to me neck?"

"How did ye get them notice so quick?" Brandy scowled even deeper. By now shouts and quite a bit of ruckus could be heard from all levels of the house, the men it seemed were in an uproar.

"I don't know what you-" the blade drew a few drops of blood, Emma winced as her breathing sped up slightly.

"Don't gimme that! Jack Sparrow and his damned brothers are on their merry way to our hideaway. Now why is that, bitch?"

"Maybe he wants to come for tea," the panic receded to the farthest part of her mind. Who the hell cared if they knew if she was here or not anymore, as long as they got here and sacked the crumbling hunk of mansion she would make damned sure she went with them when they left.

"Ye did somethin'! Got a message, set it up, I don't care which but I know ye did!"

"You're crazy!" How in blazes could she have gotten word out where she was, the place was better guarded then a prison? Besides, this girl was indeed missing a few bolts if she really believed that jumping off a ship during a storm just to follow them was something she would volunteer for.

"Enough!" Brandy was livid, there was something more to all this then just their enemies coming closer in, that much was obvious.

"Don't get too hasty," Emma could speak better when the blade was drawn back a bit. "Yer Captain won't like it if you go and kill me off now."

"Soon, you'll see, soon," the first mate tossed the knife away from her person and stalked out of the room with heavy steps, slamming the door behind her.

Emma however sat straight up in her lumpy bed, her hand going right for her neck, coming away with several drops of bright red blood. Fear began to creep back in, this time she did not stop it as it road over her in waves like those along the shore…her eyes closed as she breathed in broken breaths. Playing the part of the fearless hostage was not one to be taken up lightly it seemed, one best left to those who really did not fear all that much. One stroke, the girl thought, and Brandy would have cut her neck open and left her to bleed out upon the bed, empty threat though it was the idea of being so close to death again had her shaking.

Near drowning had been frightening enough as it was, having a blade held to one's flesh was even worse…or at least that was how she was thinking, holding a sheet to her wound. How did one ever get used to this feeling? Tear built up in her eyes, her weakness made her upset at herself, she had to be strong-strong enough to beat Brandy at her own game. She was on her own, for the first time in her life it wasn't just a feeling of being left behind by older siblings or even parents-this time it was real in every sense of the word.

"Damn it all," she wiped the water from her eyes.

Then and there Emma made a promise to herself, her final days of being the weakling crybaby she always believed herself to be were long gone and not missed in the least. To even survive the time until her sisters and the pirates they ran with she had to hold her own and by god she had every intention to hold up to it.

The Black Pearl

The dreams kept coming, waking her in the middle of the night or coming to her during the most inopportune moments in her waking hours. When she was about her chores or in busy talking to a fellow crew mate, it mattered not. Worst of all was how her body was reacting to the visions, making her ill at times. They had never done so before, had only come in regards to her relatives and it confounded the young woman to no end that they seemed to come from nowhere. Ever since her meeting with the swamp priestess, Tia Dalma, the young woman had been racked with more of her 'gift' then even she thought was ever possible and quite frankly it scared her. While she told those closest to her about the nightmares she never said aloud what she truly feared the most, how the images confused her as to whether or not they were true predictions. Only when the night terror Lucy experienced whilst searching for a grieving Jack, where he had hung from a rotted rope by the neck, had she been as frightened as she was now.

She did not want to worry those around her so much and kept those thoughts to herself.

One of the most vivid of these visions came at night, late, late into the night while the eldest Collins girl lay sleeping with her lover wrapped around her.

It seemed that not even that comfort could keep the demons at bay any longer.

In her mind's eye she saw herself as though looking in from the side, though no one around her even took the slightest notice. Everything she saw before her was foggy, thick and dense so much so that it would have taken a cutlass to open even an inch of the stuff. People were in that fog but seemed not to take any notice of it, yelling and moving abut not seeing her or what she did, Lucinda moved forward to see if in some way she could make some sense of it all.

A man fell down, crashing into the floor at her feet but not before actually falling through her, shocking her into standing completely still. Blood leaked over whatever surface she stood on and would have stained her bare feet but the liquid also passed right through her as though she were a ghost. She looked carefully at the man, trying to recall where she had seen his face…..just as she thought he might have been one of Daniel's mates he began to fade away….becoming the mist that surrounded her.

The battle around her became cleared in the sense of hearing all that happened about her, and as more men fell their bodies became more of the lingering fog that encompassed the bloody ground.

More and more she walked, at some times she could make out some scenery of foliage like a bush or very tall trees the likes of which she had never seen in the waking world. It seemed she was outside, on the outskirts of some great estate which she only now was seeing. The house was only before her for a moment when suddenly she was no longer in nature but the great house itself, it made her dizzy and nearly fell right over. More of the battle surrounded her here, guns went off around her adding their rotten smell and mist to the fog which penetrated even here within the walls of the dream mansion. The fight itself didn't as much as make her bat an eyelash, so used to it as she had become in the time living on the most dreaded and famous pirate vessel on the seven seas. What did make her squirm was when those unknown men would fall through her body, when their spilled blood was not so much as wet her toes…they were as much spirits to her as she was to them.

An image, as though she could see right through the wall came to her, another female, tall and slender, was running alongside a group of men towards the shore. This time she could at least make out something, the figure had blond hair, and then her sight returned to normal.

From the corner of her eye she spotted several figures that were decidedly not male, their skirts trailed and caught behind them as they ran down a stair case. Closer and closer she crept, but never did she reach those women or for that matter truly gain any ground though she knew her feet were moving.

"One cannot catch oneself," a thick accented voice made her jump.

In all her macabre glory stood Tia Dalma, arms folded across her chest, one hip popped out to the side. Her dark eyes, lined in black and skirted by tattoos stayed focused on the female figures that so interested the pirate dreaming them.

"What do you mean?" never had she dreamed something like this.

"Learn from all dis, Lucinda Collins, save yer family, save yer life an' end the madman's reign," Tia began to walk off.

"Wait! Is this real, will it happen?" she held her hand up in desperation though her feet would not move an inch.

"Only if ye cannot head my words," and the swamp woman disappeared in the fog that so plagued the dreamer's mind.

Now she could move, and move she did to run clear across the room only to find herself in yet another part of the house altogether. A man held her roughly by the arm, he had pinned it painfully behind her back, but what she felt most was the cold barrel of a pistol being held to her breast. The man who held her was talking, yet his voice sounded miles away, she struggled but the wretch had her held fast, finally she looked to whom he was apparently speaking to.

Her blood ran cold.

"Jack..?" she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

No one seemed to hear her though, she spoke louder but to no avail and resulted in screaming but no one even turned to look at her. By now she had devised that it was the bastard they were so determined to put an end to that held her hostage against her lover and she felt weak for not being able to do a damn thing.

Jack seemed ready to put his weapons aside, she screamed at him to not do so, Daniel would only trick him and still neither even acknowledged her. It was as if she were not even there, but still they all reacted to her presence, damn magic and all that went with it. Her time to think was up, her lover had not only put down his arms but kicked them to the side as well, leaving him defenseless and them both at his brother's mercy.

"Now let 'er go, Danny," Jack barely held back his angry growl.

"Back up a few paces and I'll let you have her, I can't have you pulling a fast one on me, dear brother," the man behind her said in a low tone. And yet Jack did as asked, the barrel backed off a little from her but not much.

"Now give her back to me."

"Of course," he had a smirk on his face, she knew it simply from the way the villain said those words. "Only fools fall in love."

The barrel of the pistol was jammed back beneath her breast, right over her heart, Jack's eyes went wide as he moved forward quickly as he could but it was no use. Daniel pulled the trigger and the pain that exploded in her chest was like nothing she had ever felt in her life. Blood sprayed across her whole body as she was let go and fell to her knees, Jack caught her in his arms…she coughed up red, it was choking her no doubt the bullet had hit a lung too. The last sight her eyes saw was the red coated pistol taking aim again, right between her eyes.

She woke screaming, her chemise clung to all of her sweat drenched body, her hair in wild disarray. Flinging the covers from herself, she checked her body for blood or injury, especially her breast for what she sure had to be a gaping hole from a bullet at point blank range but none was there. Breathing was difficult and came from her lips in shuddering breaths until she was near heaving and ready to collapse from shock.

Jack had woken up instantly, hearing a blood-curdling scream from directly next to him had the captain shooting straight up in bed looking every which way for trouble. The cabin was still dark, the moon still full and high in the sky its light illuminating the shaking form that sat curled up at his side.

"Darlin'," he placed a hand on her shoulder and she near jumped out of her skin, "what's the matter, luv? Ye're shakin' like a leaf." Large, terrified eyes turned to look at him, though they held no tears it was obvious that they held fear within them. It was then that he could clearly see the state she was in, shivering, slick with a cold sweat and scared out of her mind as she clutched at her chest. "Bloody hell," he breathed as he took in the sight.

"No, no blood, please don't say blood," the hands at her front gripped her silk chemise tight enough to tear the thing to shreds.

"What happened, luv," he asked, carefully he pried her fingers loose and began to untie the laces at her collar.

"The fog, it was everywhere…an' Tia she came to me an' said strange things," she hiccupped on her words. By now he was slipping her out of the wet gown and threw it unceremoniously to the floor. Luckily an extra cloth had been thrown over the bed post from the last bath, it was dry and he used it to gently take the moisture from her cold flesh.

"Tia Dalma was 'ere?"

"No in my dream…then he was there with his gun…." she trailed off as she shivered with chill. Jack had dried her front and torso, now drying her long, white legs but pulled her gently to his side of the bed where the sheets were still warm and dry.

"Ye don't 'ave to go on," this talk was making things worse, he could tell by the pained expression on her face. If this was another vision of death no wonder she was so terrified, last he heard she had dreamed such a thing she had seen himself as a corpse, and if she had seen that again….well quite frankly he was unsure of how to deal with such raw emotions.

"No, please let me go on," she took a few breaths as she tried to regain some form of composure. "It…he shot me through the heart….right in front of you. I-I can still feel it burning inside me…….I still see the blood everywhere!" Still no tears fell, she wouldn't let them, yet both knew the pain and fear that must have been running rampant through her mind at that moment.

"I won't let that happen, luv." He pulled her to him, his heated skin making her warm again, his arms that wrapped around her letting her relax if not only slightly made her feel safe from the horrible images that appeared in her vision. "Didn't I promise nothin' ain't ever gonna come between us again?"

She nodded as she buried her face into his chest, he laid his face into her now tangled and matted hair and kissed her forehead. He felt her head bob up and down in answer, his arms held tighter about her body feeling that she was only slightly warmer then before.

"And I intend on keepin' that promise, my word to ye is as good as gold," as he spoke he pulled a sheet close around them. "No one else on the sea or land can say they 'ave that, only ye, an' ye can be sure I'll never let anyone pull a trigger on my lady."

"It seemed so strange and unreal, Jack" her cool hands held fast around his middle as she curled up as close to him as she could. "But the pain felt so real…."

"Shhh…no need to talk 'bout it anymore, Lucy, I've got ye."

When she fell asleep again it was into a dreamless slumber, yet Captain Jack Sparrow stayed up longer. He stayed up thinking abut all his intended had spoken of, he regretted ever bringing her near the swamp woman, nothing but trouble had come from it. Now she was in danger of her own mind, something he could not defend her from and where he could not follow, the feeling made him both angry and afraid. He didn't know what this new dream had meant, but he would find a way to avoid it in any way possible should be prove to be one of her predictions.

The plan he had been formulating for weeks now was beginning to look all the more appealing since the nightmares had started. He would bring it to the table with his brothers the next time they met and put it into action soon after, pirate or no this was going to end. Even if his method of protection meant angering the sleeping treasure he held so close to his heart, this would end.

The Black Diamond

Amanda had been sitting on the main deck, clad in a pair of men's breeches and old cotton shirt, her feet were dangling through the posts in the rails over the blue water of the Atlantic. Such were her days aboard the ship that she was calling 'home' for the time being. Normally Alexander was tagging along behind her at any given moment, flirting unabashedly at the both the best and worst moments he could find. Although he was in a meeting with his brother's and those three had locked the door to the Captain's cabin. The red headed girl sighed, falling on her back to observe the clear blue sky, whatever it was the Sparrows were twittering about would become clear sooner or later, till then she could wait. Besides, it could be fun to extract the information from Alexander Sparrow, it would not only be a little fun but help brighten the mood she had been in lately…heaven's knew she needed a respite.

Meanwhile, in that very cabin a debate was going on as to what should be done about certain members of the ship's crew, namely the remaining Collins' sisters. Jack had described what Lucinda had went through a few nights prior, he believed that the vision could come to pass if they did not take on the correct precautions. Alex thought it could be just the stress being put on her as not only grieving sibling but knowing about the upcoming battle. Zack was not sure what to think about it all, in the end he decided that either one could be at fault and left it at that.

"We are already on course to see the ol' man, what if we left the girl's wit' him?" the eldest suggested, so low that the other two almost didn't hear him.

"And why would we do somethin' like that? He's more lecherous then you on yer worst day," Alexander poked his older brother.

"He won't touch the women if he knows that they are wit' us, and serious 'bout it, we all know that," Jack was halfway from being totally serious which meant the man meant business.

"And what do we do from there?" Zack asked from his perch on a table.

"We go after Danny, ensuring nothin' from that damn dream comes to pass."

"How ye suppose the girls gonna take that?" both younger men spoke in sync.

"I'll deal wit' that, you two just get 'em there and all will be well."

Thus this family meeting was the end of this family meeting, Jack left to catch a long boat back to his own ship, Zack descended into the mess hall and Alex found himself seated next to a very buxom red haired girl.

"Gonna tell me what happened in there?" she asked, her blue/green eyes looking straight into his.

"Not really," he toyed with a lock of her fire colored hair, watching how the sun played off it.

"You, sir, are no fun at all," Amanda lifted onto her forearms, looking down her nose at him. She was fully aware how moving to this position gave him a very nice, angled view of her very full figure, he seemed to notice too.

"An' you, wench, just luv to tease poor men like me," a dark eyebrow raised at her while his eyes wandered slowly. "Besides, even if I wanted to tell ye, it would make ye move from that spot and I just like the view too much."

"Silver tongued, jerk."