A/N: Woo, here we are with another chapter! I bought DMC on DVD on Monday but only got round to watching it today. Ah, sweet piratical bliss. I've watched a few of the extras too, though I am disappointed at the lack of deleted scenes (though I'm sure this is due to overlap with PotC 3...there must have been lots of scenes which they decided not to put in because they would give too much away).

I hope I haven't kept you guys waiting too long for this...

Chapter Thirteen: Samaritans

Every morning Janie walked along the beach, even when it was raining like it was this morning. She wrapped a scarf around her head, and pulled one of her husband's coats on, they were similar sizes but Henry always bought clothes that were two sizes too big for him. It was a habit that made Janie laugh, and occasionally get cross, but as she wrapped his coat around her she was glad of it. The hour was not yet six and the street was empty. Janie loved this time of day. Henry loved his mornings in bed, however rare, but not Janie, she liked to smell the fresh air and pretend that she was the first one in the world to do so. She liked to see the colour of the sky and the sea change from moment to moment. This was the hour of the birds, and when she listened to their calls she felt like she was listening to a private conversation. As she walked along the sand she looked back to see her footprints and then she looked up at her house and smiled. It was moments like this that she loved her life, and she thanked God for another morning.

There had been a storm during the night, quite a fierce one. The wind had woken Janie twice. Henry had slept straight through. The beach was littered with evidence of nature's ferocity. Flotsam and jetsam of every description was being picked over by inquisitive seagulls. Janie felt like a seagull herself, rummaging for treasures amongst the rubbish. A leathery mermaid's purse was half buried in the sand. Janie let it lie. She'd once found a necklace amongst a twisted pile of seaweed, it was a beautiful thing, a string of tiny white pearls that looked so delicate that she was sure they would shatter when she picked them up. It was the kind of thing she could imagine royalty owning, certainly not a baker's wife like herself. She had half thought about leaving it where it was in its nest of seaweed, but who was going to claim it if she did not? Only the sea, and what a waste that would have been. She had almost run home with the treasure in her pocket. She had burst into the bakery, too eager to show Henry to wait. He had laughed at her excitement and then once she had shown him he had made a great show of admiring the string of pearly beads.

"We could sell it," she remembered saying, though her grip had tightened on them as she spoke.

"Sell it?" Henry had said, "No, we couldn't do that." He had fastened the necklace round her neck and kissed her on the cheek. Janie still remembered that as one of the most beautiful moments of her life. She did not imagine that she would find another treasure like that necklace, which was currently lying in a homemade velvet bag in the bottom of a drawer in the bedroom, but she kept her eyes open just in case. The beach was a long one, a vast stretch of grey on a morning such as this. Janie stopped walking and looked along it appreciating the vastness of the world. That was when she saw it, a black shape that was somehow different from the lumps of driftwood that surrounded it. Janie began to walk towards it, then she began to run, the damp sand sucking at her feet, because she was sure that this was no piece of driftwood…she was looking at a body.

♠♥♣

"Who is Tia Dalma?" Sylvia asked looking from Jack to Will. Her name had been mentioned and the atmosphere had changed completely. Norrington, sitting in the corner, had not said a word, which was definitely wise.

"You want t' see Tia?" Jack asked hollowly, "Why?"

"Because she knew," said Will passionately, "She knew this would happen. Don't you remember?"

"She may have said something…"

"Jack, who's…?"

"She knew, Jack. She might know something else. Anything else. I'm not giving up." Will looked like he was ready to collapse, he was so tense.

"If you hadn't broken me compass…"

"The bloody thing doesn't work!" roared Will, "I did you a favour!"

"Enough!" Sylvia stood up and physically put herself between Jack and Will. "This isn't helping anyone." Will raised one shaky hand to his face and wiped his eyes. He was losing it, and despite his talk he was losing hope.

"Who is this Tia Dalma, Jack?" Jack, to her displeasure, looked immensely uncomfortable. Norrington's eyebrows rose several centimetres.

"She's an old friend…an acquaintance, tha's all. Some say she's got a gift, of sorts."

"A gift?" Sylvia wasn't at all sure she liked the sound of that.

"She's psychic," said Will, "She knew that leaving Elizabeth was a mistake, she knew they would be taken from me…she said…she said I might lose one of them." He covered his face with his hands, Sylvia looked away to try and preserve some semblance of privacy.

"Jack," she said quietly, "If it'll help Will…"

"Sylvia, ye don' understand what yer asking."

"Maybe not, but it's what Will wants. We owe him that, at least." Jack sighed.

"Alright," he said heavily, "We'll go and see her, but do we have to bring him?" Jack jerked his head in the direction of Norrington.

"Yes," said Will. And that was the end of the discussion.

♠♥♣

Norrington did not understand why Will had saved his life or why he had insisted that he accompany him on this trip to see the psychic, but he was prepared to do his bit to save Elizabeth, if only someone would tell him what had actually happened to her. Jack had gone to rally the crew and ready the Pearl. Will had, mercifully, fallen asleep and Sylvia had given them all strict orders not to disturb him. She was getting things ready too, packing. Only Norrington was sitting with nothing to do. The door was open to Sylvia's room but Norrington knocked anyway. She turned, with a radiant smile forming, but when she saw Norrington it was gone at once.

"What do you want?" she asked. She wasn't short with him, but there was no friendliness, he had not been expecting any.

"I want to know if I can help," said Norrington.

"Well, Jack's the one who could probably need some help but I don't think that's a very good idea," she said going back to folding shirts, "Jack won't be forgiving you for a while."

"No," said Norrington, "I…I won't say I'm sorry, but I do want you to know…"

"You don't need to explain yourself," said Sylvia, "I've been around Jack long enough to know he makes more enemies than friends." She gifted him with a small smile before going back to her packing. "Were you going to kill him?"

"I don't know. I was angry."

"I can imagine," said Sylvia, "I'd be angry too. I won't let you hurt him again, Commodore."

"Call me James."

♠♥♣

Henry walked home from his bakery, there was flour on his hands and in his hair and on his tongue but there was a smile on his face as he turned the corner and saw the house he shared with his wife. They had never been blessed with children, something Janie felt particularly keenly, but in every other respect they were happy. They were as different as could be but somehow it worked, and they were happy. He opened the front door and waited for Janie's happy smile to greet him. Seconds passed and there were no smiles, there was no greeting.

"Janie? Janie, where are you?" A floorboard creaked above him. Henry found himself taking the stairs two at a time, his knees complaining at this unexpectedly harsh treatment.

"Janie?"

"Ssh!" Janie appeared from their bedroom, she shut the door behind her.

"What's going on?" Henry asked, "Is someone in our bedroom?" He was joking, of course. Janie, to his surprise and horror, began to blush.

"Please don't be cross, Henry," she said, "I couldn't leave her, not even to come and tell you."

"Her? Janie, what are you talking about?"

"Ssh," Janie said again shooting a look at the closed door behind her, "I was walking along the beach this morning when I found her, washed up on shore! I didn't know what to do, there was no one around and she didn't seem to be breathing. I managed to roll her onto her back and she began coughing…really coughing, like her lungs were going to burst. I tried to call for help but like I said there was no one around. Finally she comes round enough for me to help her to her feet and we just about made it back here. I had her downstairs all morning, shivering and pale as death she was, I managed to get her up here sometime this afternoon, I thought she could do with a proper bed. You've never seen someone so pale, Henry, and she hasn't spoken a single word. I didn't know what to do for the best but I couldn't very well have left her there, could I?" Janie was looking at him for confirmation but Henry wasn't sure he had followed the story correctly.

"You found a woman unconscious on the beach?" he said in an attempt to clarify the situation in his own mind, "And without knowing who she is or where she came from you brought her into our house and stayed with her all day…alone."

"What was I to do?" Janie asked, "Besides, you should see her. She couldn't threaten a tit mouse in her state. She's got a nasty cut on her head. I was going to get the doctor but I didn't want to leave her...I was hoping you'd…"

"Fine," grumbled Henry, "I'll get the doctor while my dinner goes cold…"

"Oh," said Janie blushing a little more, "I'm afraid with all that happened today I didn't get round to making any dinner. I was hoping leftovers would be alright." Henry thought he had better fetch the doctor before the bitter disappointment made him cry.

♠♥♣

All land had disappeared some time ago, and that usually meant Jack would come down from the helm, but Sylvia had been waiting almost an hour and still she was alone in the cabin. She kept telling herself she was being stupid but she could not shake the feeling that Jack was avoiding her. Instead of getting angry or upset, which were the two things that came to her most naturally in situations such as this, she decided to think about why this might be. Sitting down on the bed she ran over the mornings events. Will's arrival, Norrington's appearance, the strange request by Will to visit this Tia Dalma…that was it! Something about where they were going was making Jack uneasy, especially when it came to talking about it with the one person to whom he owed an explanation. Typical Jack. Sylvia stood up. If she couldn't get the answers from Jack himself, she would do the next best thing.

It took her next to no time to find Gibbs who was in his element, ordering the crew around and taking periodic swigs from his hip flask. His face broke into a dogged grin upon seeing her.

"A fine day fer sailing," he pronounced, filling his lungs with salty air, "A pirate's life, eh?" He certainly was in a good mood, he was always the same on the first day of a voyage, that first stretch of his sea legs seemed particularly sweet even after the shortest of stops.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you about something," Sylvia said keeping her voice casual so as not to arouse suspicion.

"O' course," said Gibbs, sounding flattered, "What's on yer mind?"

"Er…well, I wondered if you could tell me about this Tia Dalma we're visiting." Gibbs' smile faded a little.

"Has Jack…? No, I don't suppose he has." He took a long draft from his flask. "Tia Dalma 'n Jack go way back."

"Is she a pirate?" Sylvia asked, she was beginning to get the message already.

"Oh no, she's no pirate, lass. Got gypsy blood in her veins, true enough, but she's not one t' take t' the sea 'less she has to. That's what got them in the end."

"Them?" Sylvia prompted. There was a strange burning sensation in her chest, and her mouth had suddenly gone very dry. Gibbs was beginning to look very uncomfortable but he knew he could not escape now.

"They've been over fer a long time now, lass. Jack makes a point of avoidin' her, as a matter of fact. He went t' see her fer help with Davy Jones but…"

"He went to see her while I was on the Dutchman?" Sylvia felt like someone had slapped her hard.

"Fer help, tha's all," insisted Gibbs, "She's somewhat associated with Jones." Strangely this bit of news was nowhere near as momentous to Sylvia as hearing that Jack had fled to the arms of another woman when she was in mortal peril, at least that's the scenario that had set itself up inside her mind and nothing Gibbs said was going to shift it. No wonder Jack had been reluctant to talk to her. Sylvia had experienced jealousy before, but never like this, she could feel herself rapidly losing a sense of proportion.

"Sylvia?" Gibbs was looking worried. "Sylvia, yer lookin' ill. I'm telling you, Jack's heart mended a long time ago…long before he met you! Tia Dalma's a useful acquaintance, that be all."

"Are you sure?" Sylvia asked, her eyes on the floor.

"Aye." Gibbs pulled her into a one armed hug. "Now, I think someone better check on Will."

"I'll go," said Sylvia, "Thank you, Gibbs." As she walked away she could still feel the burning inside her, but it was not as strong as it had been. At least she knew the truth. Maybe now she could talk to Jack about it.

♠♥♣

Janie stood by the door as the doctor carefully examined the poor girl. Worryingly, she did not react to being moved, poked and prodded. Even Henry, who really was fond of his daily routine, looked very concerned as the doctor continued to frown and mutter to himself in a way that Janie found most unnerving. She remembered the doctor doing the same thing to her after she had miscarried for the fourth time, back when he was new to the town, she had thought that it was the grief and shock that had made him seem unfeeling but Janie could see now that he really was that bleak. Finally, he placed the blanket back over the woman and turned to face them. Janie took half a step forwards, her hands clenched together at her chest.

"It doesn't look good," said Doctor Blake, "Her colour is very unhealthy, very unhealthy indeed, and her temperature is worse. Dear, dear…"

"But will she be alright?" said Henry, "Is there anything we can do?" Doctor Blake sniffed. He did not appreciate being interrupted.

"She needs a regular intake of broth, little and often. She must be kept warm, I recommend you start a fire in here which is to be kept going day and night. If she regains consciousness she will have little strength. You will have to encourage her to take eat more solid food and take short, assisted walks." He took one last look at the patient. "You have an uphill battle ahead of you, God be with you." God be with her, Janie corrected in her head before showing the doctor to the door. Henry paid him with his hard earned coins and he was soon on his way.

"I wish Doctor Leeson had not moved away," sighed Janie as she closed the door, "His advice was always so personal."

"We shan't be paying him again," said Henry irritably, "We'll find another doctor if she needs it." Janie blinked.

"So she can stay?" she said.

"Well, of course she can stay," blustered Henry, his ears growing red, "I'm not going to be known as the man who threw a young lady out on the street because he didn't get his dinner!" Janie laughed and threw her arms around her dear husband's neck. She kissed him, tasting flour.

"God chose us for this," she said seriously. Henry nodded.

"I believe He did," he said sombrely, "So we had better do the best job we can."

"As always," added Janie.

"Alright," said Henry rolling up his sleeves, "You get started on that broth and I'll see what I can do about getting a fire going."

♠♥♣

By the light of a roaring fire, Henry took his first good look at his house guest. Even illness could not hide her beauty. He was not one to guess at a lady's age but he would have put her far before thirty if he'd been pushed. A mere girl, in his eyes. If Janie had carried her first pregnancy to term that baby girl would have been about the same age. He wiped his eyes and scolded himself for being an old fool, but he knew Janie felt the same thing. Every night for over twenty years she had prayed for a child, and here they were, playing host to a waif washed up on their very shore. He didn't know if he believed that this was God's will, but he was certainly willing to go along with it for Janie's sake. In any case, it was their Christian duty to care for the girl until such time as she could be reunited with her rightful family. Henry was about to leave the sleeper in peace when her eyelids stirred and her lips parted. She murmured a word but Henry did not catch it. Hurriedly, he knelt down beside the bed. He wanted to talk to her, to tell her she was alright but the words got stuck in his throat. Janie was better at this kind of thing. He got to his feet again and rushed from the room but by the time his wife reached the stranger's bedside she was silent and still once more.

A/N: Thank you, as always, for your wonderful comments. I have finally formulated a plan for the rest of the story and, at the present moment, I am planning to write four more chapters. Not sure whether you'll consider this good or bad news but I thought I would let you know! Looking forward to hearing from you...