Author's Note: I've gone back to school (boo) so until I come up with a proper writing timetable, updates might be a little random for this. I'm still working on planning the sequel, and some of the plot points in it are brought up in this chapter. Anyway, thanks for the reviews, please do keep them coming!
EDIT: This chapter wasn't showing up before so I'm reposting it... hopefully it will work...

Chapter Twenty One: Wounded

"Carmen? Carmen, darling?"

"James?" Carmen felt herself coming around slowly, aware of a headache and a sick feeling in her throat. She was lying in his bed, though she found she simply could not remember getting into it.

She felt his cool fingers cover her own. "Yes, darling. How are you feeling?"

She opened her eyes, blinking and reaching up to rub them. Everything was blurred for a moment before returning to usual. James was standing by the bed, caught in a beam of afternoon sunlight. He looked deeply troubled. "Confused," she replied, sitting up. "What happened, James?"

He pointed wordlessly at the Heartstone, which was on the bedside table. She raised her eyebrows in question, but he cleared his throat. "It controlled you."

"Controlled?" She felt horror flood her. Aron Chiltingham had been in control of her? She felt so helpless, so weak. Then she thought a little harder. What had she done? Dear God- what if she had hurt Jack? For a moment she didn't care if James saw the fear on her face. "James, what did I-?"

"You attacked him," James said quietly.

Him? Him had to be Jack. Deep down, James knew what she had been thinking. But she didn't have time to dwell on it. "James, is he alright?"

James was wearing an unreadable expression. "He's lost a lot of blood. But he should be fine." He paused, shifting his weight, moving his fingers from Carmen's. "Mr Turner wanted you to take care of him, nurse him."

Carmen looked away, her long hair falling into her face. She felt so guilty. She had hurt poor Jack. The knowledge that she couldn't face him hit her hard. Tugging on the sleeve of her dress, she replied, "I can't."

She had known the reply would please James, who nodded. "I don't advise it. You're quite ill yourself. You should rest."

"Yes, James," she replied bleakly. She settled back against the pillows, tired and guilty. How could she? Surely, surely she should have been able to stop herself? She knew she had to avoid Jack. Maybe she would fall for James instead. Maybe they would be happy together, and they would rule Evaneta together well. A tear ran down her cheek, and she wondered if she was crying for herself or for Jack.

There was shouting outside. Not more fighting; Carmen sighed bitterly, and looked at James. "The Martyr must have caught up with us," he said, looking worried for a moment. "Promise me you'll stay in here."

"I shall," she replied, wiping away the tear.

His hands cupped her cheeks. "No, promise me, Carmen."

She looked back into those grey-green eyes, so deep and thoughtful, and felt nothing. "I promise, James." He hesitated a moment, pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, then turned and left. She heard the door close and closed her eyes. She was too tired to fight, too numb with shock and horror at what she had done. She didn't want to see Jack, and she definately didn't want to see Aron Chiltingham.

She tried to remember. She wanted to know exactly what she had done. But it was just a blank. "Think, Lainey, think," she muttered, then realised what she had said. When she was much younger, she had said that quite often.

Something was coming back to her. She forgot her own surprise at calling herself Lainey again as she saw, in her head, Jack kneeling in a growing pool of blood. It was so... red. And it was coming out of his stomach.

It was the most disturbing thing that had ever entered her head. Her shoulders trembled.

But still, there was more. Her eyes were distant as she remembered, remembering as she had done so long ago on Chalpa.

"Do you love Carmen Regalia, dear Jack?" Those words had left her mouth, but in a harsh voice she didn't know. Jack had looked back up at her, and a tear had leaked down his cheek. It was strange to see a tear on that golden skin.

"God, yes."

She gasped. "Oh my God..."

Captain Jack Sparrow was in love with her.

She didn't know whether to scream in joy or anguish. How was she supposed to move on now? Joy won out, though. It leaked through her, out of her eyes and down her cheeks in the form of tears of happiness. He loved her back.

He loved her back.

She felt suddenly awake, suddenly brighter. The guilt was still there, but it was joined by something glowing, something wonderful. She was suddenly unable to keep still, and despite her promise to James, she was considering going to Jack. She stood up, feeling shaky on her feet, but still certain of what she wanted to do. She knew she ought to arm herself if she was going out of the cabin, though. Sadly, this was not Jack's cabin, and there were no random weapons lying around. Damn James for thinking of everything.

She was bent over a cabinet hopefully when she heard the door open behind her. She froze. "James, I'm sorry."

There was no reply. She cursed herself under her breath. Then she heard footsteps, heavy footsteps. They sounded as though they belonged to boots, not shoes, and she realised that it couldn't possibly be James. Tensing in fear, she spun around, her hair whipping around her face, to see...

"Jack!" she exclaimed. Her amber eyes looked at his dark, shadowed face. There was something wrong with him. She raised an eyebrow. "Jack, what is it?"

He didn't answer, but a hand shot out suddenly and grabbed her arm. His grip was tight, bruising, and she winced. She tried to shake him off automatically.

"Jack, let go, that hurts!" she cried. But he just gripped harder and with his spare hand grabbed the Heartstone. "No, Jack, no!" she said. "It'll control you!" She had no idea what was going on, but there was something chilling about the glazed over look in his eyes as he slid it into his pocket.

Then he grabbed her other arm with the same intense grip. Real fear took her then. This wasn't Jack Sparrow. She screamed, praying to God James would come rushing in and save her. But then Jack's hand was over her mouth firmly, his other arm gripping her against him. He was dragging her towards the door. Thrashing madly, Carmen caught a glance of his stomach. Of course, his shirt had been changed, but she could easily imagine the wound beneath. The thought brought tears to her eyes. She stopped struggling. There was no escaping this iron grip.

Jack dragged her out onto the deck, around the back of the fighting. Nobody noticed them. She saw the Martyr docked beside the Veran, looking more sinister than the first day she had laid eyes upon it. Jack was taking her towards it. She felt oddly calm. She felt excited at the idea of seeing Chiltingham again, telling him what she thought. But after that... there would only be death. The only person who could possibly save her was dragging her into danger.

She closed her eyes, trying to make her mind go blank again. She would not be afraid.

A door closed. It made her eyes open automatically, and her stomach turned over as she found herself in Chiltingham's cabin again. Jack released her suddenly and she wondered if she could make a run for it. Outside, she heard someone shout to raise the anchor. It was now or never. Sucking in air through her teeth, she ran, trying to duck under Jack's arm. It was a fool's errand; he lowered his arm quickly and caught her, dragging her back towards the bed, producing a long length of rope. She was screaming; she was sure the ship was moving.

He pushed her hard, without pity, and she hit the bed hard, still screaming, until he shoved a piece of fabric into her mouth. Her hands were bound above her head, tied to the bed, then her feet. She was helpless. She stared at Jack with wide, frightened eyes, wondering what was going to happen next.

He crumpled to the floor.

This was without doubt the worst part of this experience so far. Jack Sparrow, lying so still on the floor, tangled dark hair falling over his face, which was now soft and usual. It moved her once again to tears, and she was surprised there were any left.

The ship was definately moving. The door opened suddenly and Aron Chiltingham stepped in, every bit the handsome, dark pirate Captain. His smile was narrow, curved, revealing just a hint of his white teeth. His curly blonde hair was ruffled, his green eyes twinkling. He swept his hat from his head and bowed.

"My, my, your Highness, it is nice to see you again. Can hardly keep away, can you?" And then he laughed in a way that made her shiver.

She glared back at him, harsh words forming behind the gag, unable to escape. Her hair hung over one eye. She had never felt so helpless. Her eyes darted to Jack, willing him to wake up.

"I must admit, I was glad to see you in the cave," Chiltingham said, as though they were just talking about the weather. He closed the door with slender, gloved fingers. "I think it was then that I knew..."

Knew what? Carmen longed to be able to scream questions at him. She wriggled fruitlessly. This made Chiltingham laugh again, and he moved forward suddenly, his mouth at her ear, his lips brushing it softly as he spoke.

"Am I really so bad, Miss Regalia?" His fingers pulled the material from her mouth.

"You're evil!" she shrieked as soon as it was gone.

Chiltingham grinned. "Evil, sick, twisted..." His face was right in front of her own, just like the time they had shared that kiss. "You would be too! If damned Desperada had tried her tricks with you, you would be bloody evil too! Don't you see, Carmen, that it was never Desperada I loved?"

Carmen had no idea what he was talking about. She could only assume he had gone insane, for she certainly had no idea who this Desperada was. Her eyes fell on Jack again. He was the most important thing right now. "Jack- what have you done to him?"

"He touched the Heartstone when it was controlling you," Chiltingham replied quietly. "Clearly, some of me entered him; I found I could control him. Now he has the Heartstone on his person, he is helpless."

Carmen glared at him as he moved away from her, prodding Jack in the side with his toe. "And what are you going to do with us?"

"You and I are going to have a little... ceremony... at Morta," he said replied, without looking around. "As for darling Captain Jack, I'm quite afraid he's going to die a most horrible death... caused by himself."

"No!" Carmen screamed, horrified. Jack... dead. The thought sent hot tears trailing down her cheeks. There was nobody to help them now.

Chiltingham cast her a look, his eyes dark. "Good day, Carmen." He turned on his heel and left quickly, closing the door behind him. Carmen's eyes were fixed on Jack, whose chest was softly rising and falling. She watched it as she sobbed; sobbing for her dear Jack and also for herself. All she had doubted before seemed so clear now, though she found herself thinking hard, trying to think of the exact moment...

The exact moment she had fallen head-over-heels, fallen madly in love with Captain Jack Sparrow.