Author's Notes: And two weeks later, we have another. I can't wait to see the reviews this time around…

Disclaimer: Still don't own PotC. Nope.

Chapter 28: Recovery

As the sun rose, so did the call of the warning bell on the Confidence. They were only a few hours from Port Royal and the redcoats flooded the deck, some still struggling into their jackets and hats.

The first cannon ball collided with the Confidence and ripped into the hull near the gun deck, the ship groaning and swaying from the momentum. The warning bell continued to sound and the ship became a swarming mass of shouts, orders, curses, and moving bodies. Two ships were bearing down on it, the smaller of the two circling to the left and daring to come closer. The second was not as well equipped for the assault and while the first proudly bore a name – Dilettante – the second had whitewash spilling over the lettering and making it illegible.

A second cannon shot rang out and tore through the hull almost in line with the deck, escalating the chaos. The Confidence's crew finally was able to turn their cannons towards their two foes and the ship shuddered with the force of cannons firing from both sides of the gun deck. The tip of the Dilettante's prow was hit and through the smoke a shot was returned, the smaller ship moving out of the Confidence's range of fire. The larger ship was hit and took a moment longer to retaliate.

Lord Hallington had emerged from his cabin and he watched the booming echoes of the Confidence's return fire with a wary eye. He had known that more cannons were necessary in the Caribbean. Neither of the attackers suffered a blow, but whether it was a turn of the winds or a conscious action, they moved farther from the Confidence. He had made his way to the railing and watched the Dilettante turn away. Hallington let out a harsh laugh, looking to a handful of the closest soldiers and slapping a hand against the railing.

"Got them running already! Hah!"

"M'lord…" one of the men murmured. "They should not be retreating so easily." His unease was almost palpable.

"Why is that?" he scowled and narrowed his eyes.

The soldier looked to his comrades anxiously before replying. "We are outnumbered and outmaneuvered. The winds aren't in our favor, either. It doesn't make any sense, M'lord." He swallowed hard and then looked warily to the starboard, keeping his eyes out of the direct sunlight. There was a hazy blur in the bright morning sunlight and while he refused to blind himself, a thought came to him. East. Were they trying the same old trick?

He raised his hand and blocked out the sunlight with his thumb, squinting just enough to discern the least bit of what the sunlight was hiding.

Hallington followed his gaze and stiffened as the soldier began yelling that they were under attack again. He mimicked the soldier and froze as he could finally see the shape of an approaching ship with sails fully extended and too dark to be usual. The Confidence let out a horrified cry as they recognized the Black Pearl emerging from the glare of the rising sun. The Dilettante and the other assailant turned back in a wide maneuver to hedge in their prey.

The ship exploded into pandemonium. The men were screaming, torn between fleeing and redoubling their efforts. Hallington watched this and joined the latter. Here were his two biggest opponents. If he could hang both Sparrow and Kendra…

"Stand and fight!" he screeched. "A reward to the man who captures Sparrow alive! It's a-"

A disturbingly unified "Shut up!" cut him off. Hallington was left to stare in surprise.

The Dilettante had circled around and now turned their broadside to the Confidence, all of the cannons locked into position and waiting to fire. The Black Pearl advanced quickly, getting into range and taking aim. A chain shot brought down the main mast, the twin cannon balls twisting around and snapping the solid timber into splinters. The third attacker moved forward to cut it off, though it was hardly necessary with the crippled ship. The legendary vessel's presence seemed to be daring the Confidence to retaliate, the billowing black sails a stark reminder of just who they were facing.

Hallington had been watching the soldiers swarm here and there and thought it wise to retreat, but it was the falling mast that made him decide it was best to return to his cabin. But before he could turn, an ominous click sounded in his ears and he stiffened.

"Surrender."

He knew that voice and a stuttering gasp was all he could manage.

"Surrender, Hal, before I blow off your shoulder."

"Y-you wouldn't," he stammered, looking over his shoulder and gasping at Kendra's visage.

She stared at him with cold eyes, her lips set in a sneer, face filthy, dried blood clinging to her hair, skin, and clothing. He had never seen anything more terrifying and began to tremble, taking a step to the side. She held the pistol steady and it took a few seconds of the metallic tinkling for Hallington to look higher and finally see an old man standing behind her, grinning and holding a set of keys to the brig.

"Surrender," she said, holding the weapon to him and keeping it firmly aimed at his head as he merely stepped backwards. "Call them to surrender, pig!"

He made a sound like a whimper and shook his head, too terrified to realize what he was really doing. Kendra knew she was baring her teeth and nearly growling, but when Hallington took another step back, she felt her restraints snap and her yell echoed over the ship.

"Nobody attacks my ship! Do you hear me?!"

The soldiers stopped where they were and stared at the two. Kendra held the pistol steady and seethed. Hallington stood there a moment longer and then fainted, hitting the deck with a dull thud. She kept her pistol trained on him, her gaze devoid of all humor. With Hallington very obviously unconscious, she lifted her eyes to the soldiers and kept the pistol on him.

"Surrender now."

From out of the redcoats' awkward silence, there emerged a single, meek voice: "Will you shoot him anyway?" The situation would have been funny, if not for the vein throbbing in Kendra's forehead.

It didn't take much for them to comply, running up the white flag and leaving Kendra to hold the pistol over Hallington's limp form. Alistair stood next to her, surveying the scene with a proud smile and gesturing to help direct the crew. She spared him a glance, too tired to find much reason to say anything at all. Her ship was largely uninjured, the outlaws would give Hallington his due punishment and she was nearly free.

The white flag fluttered in the breeze and Kendra felt herself finally breathe. She had the thought that she should smile at the refreshing sight of the Dilettante, the Black Pearl, and even the Fortune's Run. Had she been less strained, Kendra was sure she would find his masking of the ship's name humorous. Still a smuggler. But the overwhelming exhaustion and waning flood of adrenaline was wearing on her. She could smile later. And she could worry about Alex later.

"We can surely take back the house with three crews," Alistair said, setting a hand on Kendra's shoulder and squeezing. "T'will be a simple task."

"Wait until we've boarded, Alistair. Just wait a moment." Kendra lowered her gaze and tried not to think of the last sight of her family, trapped within their own home.

"Right, a'course." He slid his hand off her shoulder and scanned over the anxious redcoat crew.

The time before the Dilettante's crew boarded passed by quietly and Kendra was glad to have Henry standing by her side and Finnan personally tying up Hallington.

"Are you all right, Captain?" Henry lowered his voice and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. The blood staining her was still very visible and Henry was not the only crew member looking to her anxiously.

She didn't have the heart to tell him about the exhaustion she felt or the relief that was still washing over her. She gave him a tired smiled and nodded. "It's not my blood, Henry. Just a little bruised is all."

He settled for the answer and continued to hold her shoulder, as if afraid that she would disappear if he let go. Kendra allowed it, watching the proceedings with a forced front. Now that she was in safe hands, her body wanted to collapse and simply sleep for a few hours. She fought off the urge and kept up her alert gaze, knowing that she had to hold out just a little longer.

Just a little longer.

Finnan handed off Hallington to more of the crew and finally took the time to better examine his captain. He could see through her façade and he only hoped her exhaustion would be fixed with a bit of sleep.

"You're in need of a bath and Silvia'll be itchin' to give you a look over." Finnan smiled as if unaware of just how chaotic their circumstances were. "C'mon, let's get you back home."

Home. Kendra felt the smile return and nodded. "Aye, I'll agree to that."

Finnan sent Henry off with Kendra along with the old man that she tolerated – "Leave him be, let him follow". Sure that his captain was safe, he turned his attentions to the approaching Fortune's Run and frowned. He had been glad of the ship's assistance in the assault but there was no way he was letting that man – Captain Alexander Thompson – near Kendra.


Alex had let Bruce handle the majority of dealing with the crew and hurried to the Dilettante. Even rushing as he was, he got there after Kendra had been hustled out of sight and to her cabin. A large tub of water, undoubtedly for a bath, was carried into her cabin and then moments afterwards the two crewmen exited, the door closing firmly behind them. Finnan had moved to accommodate the men, but resumed his previous position against the door immediately afterwards.

He was within sight of her cabin door and smiled at the sight of Kendra's first mate. The man was a welcome and familiar face. He was leaning on her door, arms crossed over his chest. But there was something in his expression that gave Alex reason to pause.

"Go back to your ship, Captain Thompson."

Alex stopped his approach at a comfortable distance and quickly recognized Finnan's seemingly casual stance for what it really was. Defensive. Protective. What kind of shape was she in?

"Is she really that bad?" he asked, watching Finnan closely.

The pirate held his position and resisted the urge to sneer. "She'll be just fine. Now I recommend you return to your ship."

Finnan's expression still failed to ease Alex's nerves and he took a step closer. "I really must insist, Finnan. If you'd only let me pass-"

"Come any closer and you'll regret it, Thompson." His gaze hardened.

Several of the crew had been hovering nearby, hoping to catch snippets of conversations or a glimpse of their captain. Finnan's darkening tone and stance was easy to read, which led to extra sets of eyes falling on Alex.

"It's in your best interest to listen to Finnan," Peter dared to come near Alex, his persona far more subdued than the last time they had seen each other. "Captain needs her rest."

Alex looked back at Peter and then looked to Finnan again. "I just want to see her. I'm just as concerned about Ke-"

Finnan spoke up before he finished and raised his voice enough for it to carry. "Gents, escort Captain Thompson back to the Fortune's Run."

"I only wanted to…" Alex trailed off as the pirates formed a tight circle around him. While their expressions were not harsh or leering, there was certainly an unspoken agitation within his barrier. He scanned over them with narrowing eyes and then straightened, recognizing the impossibility of seeing Kendra. "I see."

He turned around and headed for the longboat he had left moored to the Dilettante, resisting the urge to show his agitation. The remaining agitation was still broiling under the surface, but he was not foolish enough to act on it. To lash out now would land him with injuries, from simple bruises to perhaps a misfired pistol. The lingering adrenaline – from worry, anticipation, the battle, and then the glimpses he'd gotten of her – was rushing through his mind and it was with careful movements he returned to the longboat and let his men row him back to the Fortune's Run.

I'll see her soon. I know I will. Alex looked to the Dilettante and let out a shaking breath. He would.


The constant stream of Spanish chattering going on around her left Kendra drowsy, staring at the wall before her and trying to think of the things she was glad for. Like finally being free of the blood and the stained clothes. Being back on the Dilettante. Her crew coming to retrieve her. Being alive and in relatively good health. Perhaps if she was thinking of that and not how Silvia was poking and prodding her all would be well.

She raised her eyes as Sam directed another question at her. "Uh, Capitan? She wants to know eef you haff been regular."

"Regular?" Kendra narrowed her eyes. "Regular with what?"

The concentrated look on Sam's face only deepened. "Well, you know, with your… woman things." He continued, waving his hand as she still looked confused. "Ev'ry month?"

Kendra's conversation with Cat came back to mind and she straightened. "I've never been very regular. Can't say I recall it recently."

He nodded, looking a little more worried as he conveyed this to Silvia. She worked harder at her craft, paying particular attention to Kendra's abdomen, glancing up once as the smaller woman was watching Silvia in turn. Their eyes met for a moment and Kendra swallowed, following Silvia with her eyes as the Cuban woman rose and dusted off her hands. A flippant phrase to Sam and she began packing up her bag.

"What is it, Sam?" Kendra kept her voice low, dreading what she suspected. "What did Silvia say?"

"She, well," he shifted his weight uncomfortably, looking to Silvia and returning his eyes to Kendra as the woman nodded. "She says you're pregnant."

The words washed over her and when nothing really changed she continued breathing as before. Pregnant. She had no doubt as to how it came about, nor who the father was. That had always struck her as such a strange thing – women who complained of not knowing who the father was.

Silvia and Sam both stood there quietly, waiting for Kendra to react. When a minute had passed and Kendra only stared at Sam, Silvia smiled softly and patted Kendra's knee, heading out of the room. Kendra made no motion at the touch and then lowered her eyes to the floor.

The sounds from outside her cabin slowly filtered in: men working, moving, swearing, cheering, jabbering on. This was her ship, her crew, her life. It was time to return.

Kendra took a slow breath and got to her feet, looking to Sam and giving him a tired smile. "Got work to do, don't we? Send in Alistair will you?"

Sam stammered for a moment. "B-but, Capitan-"

She put a finger to her lips. "No one knows. And that's how it'll stay. Pass that along to Silvia. And fetch Alistair, if you please."

"No, Silvia will not tell a soul, she's good 'bout thees things."

Kendra's eyes narrowed. "I gave my orders, Sam. See that you follow them."

He nodded, sensing the growing tension. "Sí, Capitan. But who ees Alistar?"

"Old man that came with me, he shouldn't be far from here. He does tend to hover."

Another nod and Kendra was left to her empty cabin. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath. Pregnancy took time, it could wait. Her door opened again and she looked over at her grandfather with a cool expression.

"Kin, yeh look like yerself, all cleaned up again." He smiled and took a seat at one of the chairs around the table. "Now, we need t'plan fer the family's rescue-"

"No." Kendra swiveled her gaze to him and ignored the thought that contradicted her words. "We will return you to the nearest port to your home and allow things to blow over. I've brought enough tragedy to your family."

"My family?" Alistair narrowed his eyes. "They're yers, too. And they fought t'get yeh out of this mess-"

"And I was the reason they were attacked. Conall's piracy has never brought up suspicions. It was only when I arrived that Caldwell struck. Come now, Alistair. Surely you can see the logic." It would be easier this way. "The Brits are heartless, but they can't give you too much trouble for defending their household. A few stripes, it will be over with."

He trembled with rage and set his lips into a firm line. "A few stripes? Kin, what do yeh think we are? We're family! Yeh can't desert 'em! Rhona, the gran'kids, Filib, Conall, Caoimhe, Ian, Lachina and, and-"

"I can," Kendra felt her lips beginning to pull back into a sneer. This man was trying to meddle with her life again. He had pulled her out of it once; she had no intention of letting him do it again. "It's better this way, Alistair. Can't you see that? They're safer without me." The adrenaline returned, making her mind whir with ideas and her heart race as if she were about to step into battle. "Bring in all of our ships to attack? We'll be starting a bloody mess. Even if we get the Brits out, they'll have you marked. You'll have to leave your home. Again. Do you want that, Alistair? You're safer without me, just let it be. Look at Marcail and think back, forget about me-"

"Marcail?"

The solitary word made her stop in her tracks, her lip beginning to tremble just as his was. They were edging on dangerous territory.

"She's dead. And yeh are alive. I refuse t'see yeh do this t'us. Ye're family, whether yeh like it or not. We took yeh in, Kin. Don't yeh remember? Can yeh just push that aside? Yeh're my gran'daughter. I took yeh into my good graces, gave yeh free roam of the manor-"

"Free roam?" Kendra scoffed. "I never went there by choice, Alistair. Have you forgotten how I arrived? And the ban of my weaponry? I'd hardly call that free."

"This is how yeh repay me?" Alistair let out a huff. "After all I do, yeh turn yer back and flee like a coward?" He continued when he saw Kendra visibly tense. "Where'd that pride go? Surely ye're not scared of a few British soldi-"

"Scared?" She said, rankling. "It's not fear, old man. It's bein' smart. Why get into this mess if I can just-"

"You're part of this mess!" He stood to his feet, the chair scraping. "Yeh're a MacLeod an' they stand together an' fight! I know yeh can see it, Kin-"

"See what? The fact that I was lost at sea and have now been dragged in to make you happy? Conall's attack? He nearly killed a friend of mine! He blackmailed me into coming. For all I cared, you could all rot!"

Alistair was shaking, gripping the table top to keep himself from losing his balance. "How can yeh do this, Kin? Yeh're turning yer back on yer family-"

"And I never wanted to be part of it, now shut up or get off my ship!" Kendra's sneer had shifted to a seething glare and it was then the door burst open and Henry stood there, looking anxiously between the two. Kendra kept her gaze on Alistair but was perfectly aware of her crewman's presence. "Take him outside, Henry."

"Are you all ri-"

"Now, Henry." She swiveled her gaze to him and he stepped to, taking Alistair's arm – he had fallen to silent angry shudders – and leading him outside. "Keep him situated in the galley and he's to stay there. If he acts up, it's the brig for him."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

Kendra turned away and bit her lip, glaring at the far wall. She had to breathe. What was coming over her? She had been yelling at Alistair and she was pregnant and Alex's ship was right there and now she had no idea what to do about the MacLeods' rescue… She leaned her head against a wall and forced her breathing to calm again. She had too many things to do to let herself lose control yet.

"Bad time?"

She turned her head and let out a scoff at the sight of Sparrow peeking in her doorway. "What do you want?"

"Well, one would perhaps want to exchange greetings after not seeing a friend for so long. And one might also like to coerce some sort of thanks for rescuing a fellow pirate from the Royal Navy."

"Of course," she straightened and forced a cool façade once more. "Hello and thank you, Sparrow."

"Most welcome," he nodded and stepped in, glancing around her cabin with a carefree nonchalance that Kendra currently envied. "Though I do have to say I'm a bit surprised you're not fully occupied with a certain smuggler at the moment. From what I could see, Alex was anxious to see you."

A slight narrowing of her eyes was all she allowed herself. "I have more pressing matters. I also believe my relationships are none of your concern."

He shrugged and stopped next to her, slinging an arm over her shoulders. "And here I had an entire speech planned out complete with advice for particularly exciting-"

"Enough, Sparrow." Kendra sighed and looked up at him.

Jack tilted his head a little, watching her. Kendra was often snappish, but there was an exhaustion and higher level of tension than usual. "Something really is bothering you. Care to confide?" He leaned down.

"How can you ask that question with a straight face?"

"Well, it is part of a captain's duties with his erstwhile cabin lads."

Kendra let her gaze drift elsewhere. "I haven't slept since the attack last night, I've been jostled by the navy, and now I've got a long-lost grandfather begging me to save the family from the rest of that navy."

"Ah, that is a bit tiresome. Care to explain more?"

She quirked an eyebrow and watched him for a moment, gauging just how honest he was being. "I daresay I'm not sure you'd have the best advice in this situation."

"Ah, but I'm also much better rested. Though you have the cleaner hair," he ran his fingers through a few strands. "Have you been growing it out?"

"From a lack of effort," she murmured and stepped out from under his arm, gesturing to the door. "If you're going to hear, I'm not telling the entire crew." Assured that he was attending to the door, she sunk into one of her chairs and let out a breath.

Jack took the one across from her and leaned onto the table. "So, let's see. We have a navy and a long-lost grandfather. Care to start with your disappearance?"

"If I must," she closed her eyes and took a slow breath. It was going to be difficult to explain this tale without emotion being involved. And that was always a wise course to take with Captain Jack Sparrow.