Disclaimer: see previous chapters

AN: So...we are getting close to the end, but there's a whole lot of awesome to come. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Also, if you haven't done so, check out my other story, Pirates and Pearls.

Chapter Twenty-Six: Bad News

"For a minute, I lost myself/I lost myself" (Radiohead)

"Jack?"

"What the hell do you…want?"

Jack's words were slurred more than usual; he had been drinking very heavily. He turned his bloodshot eyes up and saw Cat, standing above him, her mouth gaping open in shock. Jack stared. Cat gaped. There were several more minutes of staring and gaping. The sound of Jack dropping the empty bottle, and the glass smashing, brought Cat back to reality. She took a sharp breath and closed her mouth.

"Well? What is it, stupid wench?"

Cat nearly kicked the hell out of him, but resisted the urge. Jack looked like a good kick or two would finish him off. Instead she tried to remain the sane one in the conversation.

"What's going on here?" she asked.

"What does it bloody look like?"

"It looks like one of the Caribbean's best pirates is sitting dead drunk in a filthy alley," Cat snapped. "Now tell me what you're doing here."

The harsh glare left Jack's eyes. "The Pearl is gone. And the Moon too luv."

Cat was silent. The Pearl and the Moon? Gone? She pulled Jack up from the dirty cobbles. "Come on, I need to hear about this, but not out in the middle of the street."

She had seen Jack really drunk, and even then he could walk competently. But as they began, he stumbled into Cat, nearly knocking her into the gutter. She pushed him back up onto the sidewalk, but he promptly tipped over again. Cat looked down at his left leg. His pants were stained with a huge splotch of blood that ran from mid-thigh down past his knee. He seemed unable to put any kind of weight on the leg. Cat winced, it looked terribly painful.

"Oh no," she said under her breath. Jack heard her anyway.

"What?"

"Jack, look at your leg!"

Jack peered shortsightedly downward, nearly falling over again in the process. "Oh, that? Hardly hurts. Don't worry 'bout me."

"It doesn't hurt because you've had about eight bottles of rum. Come on, let me help you."

"I'm fine lass." Jack took another staggering step and almost fell. Cat managed to keep him up, propping his arm around her shoulders. The smell of rum from his breath and clothes was so strong it was almost intoxicating. They managed to make their way slowly back to Cat's room. She was practically dragging him up the stairs by the end. A maid at the far end of the hall gave Cat a worried glance and began to scurry away nervously.

"You!" Cat said quickly. "Have a bath drawn. And not a word about him." She tossed the girl a generous gold coin. "Hurry up."

Cat opened the door to the room and half carried Jack inside. He looked even worse in the light. She couldn't put him on the bed, he was covered in dirt and blood. Glancing around, she settled for a wooden chair in the corner and propped him there. The girl from the hall returned shortly, bringing up hot water for the bathtub in the corner. It took her a few trips, and when she finally left Cat locked the door tightly.

"We've got to get you cleaned up first of all." Cat sounded rather stern, even to herself. "What happened to your leg?"

"Navy finally caught up to us-the Pearl and the Moon. One captain can't defend both ships. Some little wanker of a sailor caught me with a sword. And they captured the ships."

"The crews?" Cat asked, horrified.

"All right. Calm down. Left us for dead in the boats. We got to shore. Sounds like you, eh?"

Cat smiled a little at him. "Do you know where the ships are?"

"I heard they're going to auction in Port Royal soon."

The smile faded. "Well, oh." There was nothing to say to that sort of news. "In any case, we've got to fix your leg." Cat began pulling off Jack's dirty coat. "Help me out a bit?" she prompted.

"Oh, sorry."

Jack shrugged awkwardly out of the coat, but wasn't up to unbuttoning his shirt. Cat knelt in front of the chair and did it for him, then sat down and pulled his boots off as well. She piled everything carefully, and added his hat. His loosely tied sash and disgustingly bloody pants were left. Cat unwrapped the sash, a difficult task with Jack slumped over in the chair, and piled his pistol and sword with his clothes.

She studied the ruined pants; they were plastered to his left leg with blood, and she was terrified what she would find. A nasty infection, another cut requiring stitches. Cat winced inwardly at the prospect of having to give him stitches again.

"All right then," she said quietly, pulling him out of the chair. Jack swayed forward and nearly fell, but he seemed to be doing a little better. Cat sighed, realizing this would be really awkward, as well as possibly very painful for Jack. It would be better to have it over with.

Cat positioned Jack in a place where he would fall back into the bath, unbuckled his belt, and pulled off his pants. The bloody patch made an agonizing rip as it tore away from his skin, and he tripped backwards and landed in the water.

"Goddam it!" he slurred. A string of unintelligible cursing followed, and Cat threw down the filthy, now ragged pants.

"Would you people be quiet!?" a loud voice barked from the room below.

Cat was unimaginably annoyed. "Bugger off!" she yelled back, and stomped about for good measure. The voice's owner apparently thought better of saying anything else. "Let me see your leg," she said in a normal tone.

"This isn't exactly fair," Jack said suddenly. "You need a few less clothes, savvy?"

Cat felt suddenly tired. "Listen, I'm trying to help you before your bloody leg falls off. Now let me see it."

Jack managed to prop his foot on the end of the bathtub, giving her a view of his left leg. She breathed a sigh of relief. The cut was shallow, just a long narrow gash. It didn't seem infected, but she wanted to make sure it stayed that way. A piece of soap was sitting on the dresser in the room, and Cat pressed it into Jack's hand.

"Here, clean up a little. I'll be back soon."

"All right." Cat picked up his clothes, leaving the hat, boots and sword behind, and left Jack alone. In the hall she spotted the girl again. She shoved the coat, shirt and sash at her, added another coin, and said that they had better be washed and drying by the time she came back. Then she walked out into the night, pitching the ruined pants into the nearest alley.

Cat managed to find a replacement for the pants in a tiny corner shop, and returned briefly. She opened the door, uncertain what she would find, and smiled. The clothes were drying, laid out on the chair, and Jack had fallen asleep on the bed. He looked suitably clean, and very peaceful. Cat didn't want to wake him, so she left the pants on the floor, pulled off her boots, and climbed into bed as well. It would be harmless, Jack was probably half passed out, and dead asleep if he wasn't. She smiled again, glad to have a friend, and fell asleep.