NB: The very last chapter. The story is now complete! Thanks for everyone who reviewed, etc. I think I may just make a sequel. And I had to add a bit of romance to it... you knew I did. Heh. Soooo... thank you very much, everyone! And hooooray!

26) Rememberance

And now, my memoirs pretty much comes to a conclusion. I am now the captain of my own ship; Russell's Confederacy. Who was Russell? And what was up with his confederacy? I don't really know. But she's a lovely old ship; billowing sails and all. It's ten years since I joined the navy – and that makes me (nearly) twenty-seven. Old habits die hard. I'm different now. I'm not the silly, ditzy girl I used to be, not so naive, not so stupid. I'm older now; that makes me more experienced, hopefully wiser in so many ways. I'm calmed down a bit since my hyped-up teenhood, though my, uh, 'unconventional' methods got me quite a name in the navy.

Those were good times, with the crew. Writing this has made me think back to all of them. I've skipped out on an awful lot of it – like during the thirteen years that I fast-forwarded over. I would have liked to recall lots of good times I'd had, back then. Everything was so simple on the Dutchman, everything was so... perfect. It didn't matter about the arguments and the punishments and the mistakes and the learning. It had all been fun. Ish.

And as for Davy Jones. He'd been... a good captain. I never really gave him enough credit, when I think back. I'd been so young back then, so mentally challenged. He never really had anyone tell him that he was one of the best seamen in this entire world, undoubtedly. Sometimes, I think all he needed may have been a hug, or something. Despite the sarcasm and the sadistic tendencies he had, I'd grown fond of him. I think we all had. And that is... weird, above all else.

Nowhere else, not in the navy, not on any other pirate ship, did I see a bond like we'd had on the Dutchman. You might think I'm babbling on now; and that may be true – but I feel that it's important that I have to say this. We'd all been close as anything, on board our ship. We'd gone through brilliant times and terrible times, and we'd all fought and we'd all laughed until we were nearly crying; and all of it made me smile to look back on.

I missed those guys on the Dutchman. I wondered if they ever thought about me. I would never, ever forget my life on board. There had been hard work, there had been boredom, there had been tears and blood spilt. But they were all part of life's rich tapestry; and each experience brought me closer to being the person I was today.

My mental illness issues? They did... calm down a little. And I should hope that they are all long gone by now, though sometimes, I still tend to focus more on having fun in life, which distracts me from the bigger picture. I was always thought of as the wacky one, even in the navy. I was just one of those hyper people; I found it hard to stay still, hard to shut up and listen, and hard to control what came out of my mouth.

I think that may have been why I rose ranks in the navy quite quickly. I wasn't afraid of anything – again, the whole serving in Davy's crew can do that to you. Some of the risks I took were frowned upon, but all in all, my career as an officer in the royal navy was pretty much a good one. I managed to pull some strings to get me sailing in the Caribbean again; the war against pirates raged on, and I'm pretty sure it's going to end, very soon.

Now, here I am. I've been writing long into the night; soon, the sun's going to be rising. And I've been counting the days. I know exactly what's going to happen when the sun comes up. Can you guess? My hand is all sore from writing this. It's times like these I miss things from the future like a laptop computer. But there's nothing I can do about it now; I've faced it. I don't even try to go home anymore. I've let it go – the life I had is one I have no way of getting back to. I guess I can live with that.

"Captain Hood?" There was a rapping on the door. I told whoever it was, to enter... the first mate walked in, Edmond Rollins, looking a little apprehensive. "May I ask why we have put down anchor in the middle of the ocean?"

"I have cleared today of any duties or patrols, Rollins," I said, tilting my head at him, "Today is a day off for all of you. You and the other crewmembers can take a dinghy or two back to land if you wish." He smiled, gratefully.

"Thank you sir," He said, "Do you mind me asking why?"

"I have some friends to meet," I said, looking at him with a smile, "Friends I haven't seen in years. Today is a very special day." I leaned back in my chair. "Ever heard the legend of Davy Jones, and the Flying Dutchman...?"

My office on board my ship is lovely; rustic and wooden inside, with windows with the curtains wide open, and the furniture may not be the top of the range; but it's not slim pickings, either. And you may remember me, in the first chapter, commenting on a certain tank across from my desk? Yes, I keep my pet octopus in there, David Junior. He reminds me of a cross between the kraken, and Davy. Davy had to kill the kraken in case he used it against Beckett, and I knew it tore him to have to murder it.

The kraken was a much-loved pet of Davy. And now I have sort of living memorabilia to Davy Jones in my office! Though it recently laid a batch of eggs, which is worrying.

Also, I'd wisened up in life on a lot more things then how to command a vessel. I thought back to Palafico... smiled at how foolish I used to be. It had been so blindingly obvious, but all the time I'd been too young and stuck up my own arse to notice. But I knew now. Knew more about him, knew more about me. Knew, and wanted, more then anything, for it to be true.

I can hear water crashing outside. Looking out of my window, there's a mast coming out of the water, tattered sails waving in the wind, water streaming down the ship as it gracefully rose from the water, bubbles erupting all around it. I'm excited now – yet at the same time, almost scared. Would they remember me? Recognize me? Would they still think of me as a friend, or would they all the time talk about me as if I were the annoying little girl in the crew, who nobody really liked?

So, this is my story, Grover Hunter. I will put this in a bottle, and I will leave it in the cave in Weymouth, for you to hopefully find in the future. I guess you're going to have to learn a lot in a short amount of time! Don't worry, it's not that hard, swapping time ranges. I mean, it was alright for me, wasn't it? You might still be a little shaken, but don't worry. If you see a fortyish woman, red-hair, garish make-up, tell her Bibsy's doing ok, will you? Or maybe not. She might think you're the one who kidnapped me, or something.

I'm apprehensive about seeing them again. Especially Palafico... I want to run out there, and at the same time I want to hide. I left my window open specifically. Should I perhaps order my ship to turn about? But then, through the window, drifts the scent of salty sawdust, and I realize everything's going to be ok...

Epilogue

Grover put down the note, his brow wrinkling. That had been a whole lot of... well, mostly nonsense. He scanned the pages once more, especially the little note to him at the end. So this girl was in his place now. And as for him... he was in... the future. The year two-thousand and seven, to be precise. He felt the tiniest bit scared. but mostly apprehensive. What was going to happen to him now? Would it turn out as well for him as it had for this Bibsy person?

Well, sitting here wasn't going to help him find out. He didn't know what had made him look under the rock that he'd landed on, but there it had been – a bottle old and worn with time, and inside, parchment so old and yellowed that he'd been afraid it would crumble to dust at his touch. But it hadn't, and now he'd read it. He smiled to himself, thinking of the story Bibsy had told. It had been heart-warming, and it made him feel hopeful.

He stood up, and with a final glanced around the cave, pushed the bottle and the memoirs of a girl four hundred years in the past into his pocket, and began heading towards the light at the end of the tunnel, with no idea where he was going, but at the same time, a fair idea of what was happening. Thanks, Bibsy, he thought to himself, as he stepped out of the cave.

He breathed in the sea air... and heard a voice calling in the distance.

"Bibsy?! Bibsy, where are you? I know you're on this beach, young lady! You are in big trouble! Come out now! Excuse me, mister... have you seen a girl, about this height, sixteen years old...?"

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Bibsy scampered outside, leaning over the deck, excitement filling her up. She smiled as familiar faces turned to face her back, and one in particular made her heart leap. They did recognize her! They really, really did! They remembered, after ten long years... She yanked the gang-plank out, putting it down, a path from her ship to the Dutchman. She began walking across it, but when she looked up, she couldn't help but start to go faster, until she was running.

Palafico was at the other side, and his arms were open wide...

The end.