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Now, moving on to the story….

Chapter 34: Affairs in the dungeons

"Ok, which genius made the dungeons our new meeting place?"

At the other end of the semi-circle, leaning silently against the cold metal bars with arms folded casually across his chest, Will answered me, his voice rolling about like a tumbling, white wave.

"I did not want to inconvenience Circe," was all he said as he stared calmly down at me, boredom splaying about his handsome face like thick paint over fresh canvas; for once, Will's hair was a resemblance of neatness, his thick, luscious brown curls held back in a limp ponytail. Loose brown ringlets framed his face away, trailing about his sharp bones like swirls of russet paint. Sweat gleamed about his features like glittering, brilliant diamonds; sweat, like blobs of silver, dotted his snaky moustache like stars winking through a black night. The sliver of chest, of bronzed skin down his deep collar, glistened like a polished tan, almost as bright as the gold medallion that hung around his neck. The red cloth of his blouse stuck on his skin, carving out the muscles where his black tailored coat did not cover.

How the man could wear a jacket in this weather was beyond me.

Then again, so was everything else.

Just being here, in the same room as him…

His dark eyes studied me without a word, looking through my body, my soul.

His beautiful, celestial dark eyes.

Someone kill me already.

I cleared my throat.

"More like you didn't want a crazy witch stalking about your ship," was my own reply as I stared right back at him, twiddling my thumbs on my lap as I used all of my energy, all of my strength to meet his stirring, fiery eyes. It was hard, that I can safely say; every time I looked at him, every time I allowed myself to dive into those dark, deep pools…

Stop looking, Joey.

Stop looking at him.

Will's voice came out as a drawl.

"No…." he let his voice trail as he held his gaze on me, a look of pure boredom playing about his features like light over shadow, "I just wanted Circe to feel comfortable-"

"Oh?" an eyebrow helplessly quirked upwards, my back leaning hard against the cold, slimy wall as my feet tapped away against the wooden boards, "You want her to feel comfortable, Will? Here's one: GET-HER-A-ROOM."

"We've been through this-"

"Clearly not as much-"

"Circe's most comfortable down here, with-"

"You mean your men-"

"You know," Sparrow's sultry voice cut me off, seeping into the air like a warm, comforting breeze, "One's beginning to wonder if dis argument is really about our guest's living quarters, or yer little love fest."

With a snap of my head and a flick of damp curls, I turned towards Sparrow, pulling my eyes off Will with much relief; beside me, leg leaning against my barrel and against me, Captain Jack Sparrow stood like a tall pinnacle, a mountain of a man from this diminutive height down on this barrel. A tall, shadowy mountain of a man; the gloom of the dungeons surrounded him on all corners, casting wayward, giddy shadows all about his dark face. Piercing kohl-rimmed eyes, like jewels of the night, gleamed from beneath the shadows of his large hat, bright and transcendent in the quavering, rocking shade. Lean brown fingers, quick and clever, played about the reddish cloth strapped about his waist, whirling it about and about like a fast, never-stopping windmill. A bored line crooked across his lips.

The side of his fucking thigh was pressing against me.

If this was some sort of sick attempt to get me attracted to him…

"Shut up, moron," I replied sourly as a deep scowl, deeper then before, pulled at the corners of my lips, the edges of my eyes wrinkling into tiny squints, "It's not an argument. It's a discussion-"

"Aye, a discussion, " Barbossa's cracking voice filled the dank, cold air, like a fist punching through a large plank of hard, oiled wood, "Something we all should be havin' right about now."

I had almost forgotten about him.

Directly opposite Will, his arm leaning against the horrid, bitter bars and his large, feathery black hat pressing through the gaps, Captain Hector Barbossa stood in his usual pose, cold yellow eyes rimmed with the bleak, grey shadows; nothing ever really changed about the man, from his curly greying hair to his elaborate, embellished leather coat and its glistening silver buttons. His saggy, rough skin was pulled red and sleek, his bulbous nose like a glowing ruby in the shivering, glimmering gloom. His cat eyes were pulled into flat slits, his fat lips in a straight line; a look of pure boredom seem to splay about the older man's face as he leaned against the prison bars, his boots tilted off to the side. At his shoulder, Little Jack perched silently, his black beady eyes staring through the slimy metal bars, wide and quiet.

Utterly still.

Despite the lack of windows or doors, the dungeons were, for some arcane reason, bright enough for us all; there was no need for lamps, or candles…

Just a good supply of common sense.

Which we all lacked, apparently.

A sigh seeped out of my lips.

"That's it," I lazily gazed up at the older pirate, my back stretching backwards against the black, slimy wall, "That's the thing-what discussion?" As I spoke, I slowly rose my foot, crossing the pants-clad calf over my other knee; beneath me, the rain barrel groaned under my weight, like a soft moaning of a rusty hinge or a hungry dog. The wood beneath my remaining foot was hard and steady as rock.

Now that I think about it, if someone was to punch a hole into the wall right now…

Well…

We would all probably sink.

Barbossa spoke in his cracking, rumbling voice again.

"Well, we were talkin' about what to do next, an' wh-"

"Yes, yes…" I rolled my eyes helplessly, leaning farther back against the cold, icky walls, "But what's has this got to do with me? Why do I have to be here?"

"Well, 'cause-"

"De luv does have a point, Hector," Sparrow said simply enough beside me, his beaded black beard bobbing with his rampant words directly above me as his kohl-rimmed eyes widened with a comical glint, "She's got nothin' to do with anythin'…She ain't important-her brother ain't even here-"

"What does my brother have to do with anything?"

"Well, he's always around with-"

"Doesn't mean anything, really-"

"Of course it does!" Dark eyes, like orbs of endless night, stared downwards at me as the pirate twisted about in his usual, odd manner, his thin lips cocking its iconic smile as a coy, rough hand casually trailed through the air and by my curls, "Yer brother's like a little soldier, eh? He goes wherever yer go, talks whenever yer talk-"

"He's just a busybody-"

"Or dat he's protective of yer, eh savvy?"

"Give me a break," I let a frown settle on my lips, my eyes hard as I glared up at the smirking, handsome pirate, letting his large hand rest on my shoulder without resistance, "Jared's as protective as you are honest."

"Yer insult me, luv. I'm an honest man."

"Please…you're a pirate."

Before I could even think anymore, Sparrow's large, leathery hand rose up from my shoulder and through my loose curls, up all the way towards my head; without a word, he patted heavily down on my skull, his large palm cupping over my bandana-clad head and pressing down on the red cloth. Loud bangs filled my eardrums as Sparrow gleefully patted me like a dog, a silly grin splaying about his bobbing, gleaming face as the dark, shadowy world wobbled about without any sense of focus. His thick, slurry voice was rich with amusement.

Little Jack howled in the background.

The world shook and shivered

"I have a feeling, luv, dat dis is a start of something beautiful," He seemed to chuckle as his beady black eyes gleamed down at me, a smirk of pure mirth dancing about his shadowy face. His hand was as heavy as lead, each pat like a resounding, painful slap to my skull; with a dark scowl, I reached upwards and swatted away his hand, freeing my scalp from the torment. A loud whack filled the cold, clammy air as my skin stung against his, his body leaping back automatically as I slapped his hand completely away. A small, instinctive whimper croaked beneath his throat; a whimper no one could hear, no one save me.

Good enough.

With an orbital roll of my eyes, I frowned up at him, straining the tired, sun-streaked muscles of my face.

"You forget idiot," my muscles twitched slightly as I glared upwards at the pirate, ignoring everyone else in the room as my eyes met those glinting, winking black orbs, "You…tried…to…kill…me…and it's something I'm never going to forget."

"Awww, luv. It was just procedure-"

"Procedure to throw three defenceless kids into a open sea, dead in the night?"

"Why on earth do yer keep harping on dat, luv? It's long gone-"

"Well, it was rotten first impression-"

"First impressions never last, luv."

"Not in my world, pal…where I come-"

"Dis is why I didn't want her here," Barbossa's voice broke through mine, like a hammer slamming through a pane of frosted glass, "Can't yer see dat now?" From our post, side my side directly opposite the metal bars, Sparrow and I broke our conversation, turning our attention away from one another; instead, our heads swivelled off to the left, towards the lean, wooden statue that was Barbossa. Our words hung fresh in the soggy air, sweat creeping across skin; in front of us, opposite a silent Will, Barbossa was looking away from us, his cat eyes glaring through the iron, rusting bars. A gnarled hand hooked around one cold, cylinder bar silently, dirty yellow nails biting down against the greenish-red metal. His greying beard leaped with shadows.

Little Jack was quiet at his shoulder.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Not a word.

Then…

"She's more important then you make her to be, Hector."

It was a soft voice, like the crooning of birds or the gentle whispering of the wind; it slithered through the chilling air without a hint, murmuring like a sweet song, calling like a cooling breeze. A sense of calm, a taste of peace radiated from the voice in gentle lengths, like old waves licking against pearl white sands or clouds swimming slowly across the sun. A thrilling chill leapt through my heart.

Circe.

How could I have forgotten about Circe?

She sat there, behind the cold bars, upon her royal red cot like an empresses of some distant past; as usual, the demi-goddess looked like a regal queen, her dark curls tumbling down her shoulders, careless and free. Black like midnight they were, corkscrews of never-ending dusk trailing about her blue-clad shoulders like night against day. They framed her face perfectly-though there was no light, no light source at all, the ageless witch could be seen perfectly enough, her fine jaw firm and her rich brown skin radiant in the black-grey gloom. Thick lips, red like blooming tulips, were pulled into a straight, simple line, the metal bars stacking away her ethereal face, boxing them in parts. Her back was rigid, her shoulders squared against the black wooden wall; like a painting, or a perfect sculpture, Circe sat silently on the crimson folds, her delicate hands neating over one another on her smooth, cerulean lap. Glowing black eyes, like flashing, burning coals, stared straight in front of her, emotionless and dead.

Not a single emotion traced across her features.

She was staring straight at me.

Great…

Beside me, Sparrow's hand sank back down to my shoulder, like a slab of concrete pressing down on my bones.

Will's back was against the metal bars, his head tilting backwards so as to peer sidelong at the silent, still demi-goddess.

His arms were folded loosely across his chest, his boots pointing upwards.

He was completely ignoring me.

Great.

Barbossa was speaking again.

"Perhaps," a small grimace, like flickering light in the gloom, slowly bloomed across his face, his wrinkled hand grasping the metal bars tightly as the other stroked Little Jack's wispy tail, " But she's annoying. Ever single time-"

"I want her here."

"…whenever de child comes-"

"I'M NOT A CHILD, YOU FU-"

" I want-"

"…dese two morons would come around an' act as if she were some sort of new toy dat-"

"Joey is not a toy, Barbossa. She's a human being."

"A human being dat have both you and Jack over there panting over like a bunch of dogs."

At his post, leaning against the metal bars with a twinge of aloofness in his features, Will almost doubled over; at Barbossa's response to his reasonable, calm statement about me, Will's cheeks burst in flames, the tips of his ears igniting in a wondrous shade of pulsing red. His dark brown eyes leaped up in dancing fire, his back starting upwards as if someone had pricked his spine with a sharp, bloody needle; for a quick moment, those startled beautiful eyes hurdled through the darkness, and towards me, his entire face a giant blossom of brilliant red. Pure embarrassment washed over his features like a rushing tide, engulfing all other thought and emotion.

Oh crap.

On my seat, upon the rain barrel, I found my eyes tracing down towards my lap, fire heating up through my body, dancing about my face. Every part of me, every inch, itched to jump up and walked away, to run away from all of them, from him…

Stop it.

Stop being such an idiot.

Beside me, standing like a tall pinnacle, Sparrow just chuckled, his low voice rumbling through the dark, dingy corridors.

A rat squeaked somewhere in the corner.

Thanks, God.

Really.

My heart felt as if it had fallen through a black, black hole.

For a moment, no one spoke as I just studied my lap, carving out each lines, each detail of my knitted hands. My cheeks seem to dance and toast with raw, burning flames; at the edge of my clouded vision, Will's boots danced about in a fidgety manner, the tough leather soles skidding against the black wooden floor. Barbossa's, on the other hand, was utterly still.

Sparrow was still chuckling.

My throat felt constricted.

Finally, Circe broke through the silence, her voice like the gentle trickling of cool water shivering down a low cliff.

"Very well, now that've we enjoyed a respectable amount of awkward silence-"

"Can I go now?" I practically whined as I threw my head up again, ignoring the other three men as I gazed solely and entirely on the silent witch behind the metal bars, "I haven't eaten my lunch yet, and since Jared's all missing now, Scarlett's probably hiding in some corner a-"

"Yer brother is missing?" Barbossa cut through my sentence, casting his bored, yellow eyes back towards me; at his shoulder, Little Jack was just staring over at Circe, his tiny, adorable head pressed through the metal bars, beady black eyes silent and still. Sparrow was swinging his red-white cloth by my head again, ruffling my hair as his lanky palm drummed against my shoulder. Will was still red as a plum.

My palms were awfully sweaty.

My heart was dancing an odd jig.

"Well," I sighed helplessly as my eyes met with cat, yellow-rimmed ones, "Sort of…neither Scarlett or I have seen him since morning now-"

"Can we please get back to the subject at hand?" Will's voice resounded through the foul, chilling air as his shouted loud enough, smashing through my sentence yet again with shivering, odd dings, "We're completely off-topic here!" His face was still a blooming red-dark curls, like trinkets of russet, bounced by his sweat-lined face as he yelled out into the dark corridors, his voice echoing about as his beautiful eyes widened to a comical degree. Red fused the tips of his ears; there was something adorable about it, about the way he was blushing like that…

That is, if he was actually blushing.

Don't be a moron, Joey.

Sparrow's stupid sashay hit against the side of my head.

"Which is what, exactly?" I found my voice, drawing attention back towards me again, my hands knitting together in a tight, ceaseless knot, "Why are we here? Down here?"

"To talk about de path ahead, lass," Barbossa answered me, a finger stroking Little Jack's furry back while his other hand ran up and down a cold, slimy metal bar, "We all need to talk about what lies ahead, about de way to de Fountain-"

"Yes, yes…but what does it have to do with me?"

"Well, for some odd reason, Lil…I mean…Circe over here wanted you to be-"

"But why?"

"Quit it, Joey," Will's answered out of turn, just as Barbossa was opening his dry, cracking mouth to answer him, his yellow eyes swivelling over towards the younger, undead captain, "The world doesn't revolve around you. We have a more important matter to discuss, more important then why you're here with us in the first place." The colour had left his place; during the short exchange between Barbossa and I, Will had somehow pulled himself back together, the wondrous red fading away from his cheeks and ears. His dark brown eyes, shadowy in the gloom, had returned back to its original size; in a matter of seconds, Captain William Turner had gone back to his cool, detached manner, his back leaning once again against the cold metal bars. His arms pulled themselves back across his chest.

His boots still fidgeted about though.

And he wouldn't meet my eyes.

His ears were kind of pink…

Sparrow's palm was drumming some odd, offbeat tune on my shoulder.

His stupid scarf was winding my hair about.

"Fine," I stared up at him with gritted teeth, though the man before me, this great undead captain was gazing away from me, eyes angled towards Barbossa opposite him with dancing boots, "Fine. Then, I'll just leave-"

"Stay, Joey."

I think we had all forgotten Circe was even there; with soft gasps, we all turned around, back toward the woman trapped behind those cold bars, still and perfect. She just sat there, staring at us with a cool, emotionless expression splaying about her features. Granite eyes, cold and hard, gazed out at us without a single thought.

A chill crept up my spine as our eyes met through the gloom, her silent figure barred away behind the prison door.

Sparrow's hand went cold at my shoulder.

Little Jack whimpered.

"Fine," I let my voice flow out smoothly, the chill creeping all over my skin and clenching my heart as all my attention, all my focus gathered upon those eerie stone eyes, "Fine. I'll…I'll stay…but why are we here, anyway?"

"To talk about what lies ahead."

"Which is?"

For the first time in a while, Circe breathed out a deep sigh, fluttering those awful, dead eyes with her luscious black eyelashes. Muscles stirred in her face as the sigh rippled through her body, like a streaming tide; all around me, the 3 pirates were utterly silent, their breaths measured and their voices gone. Little Jack was whimpering in low undertones.

It was as if Sparrow had stopped breathing entirely.

Will was near invisible.

"Well," Circe's black, black eyes fluttered open again, those lifeless orbs staring through the shadowy, grey bars again as her blue chest heaved slowly, "There's…What you must understand, Joey, gentlemen, is that I have a limit to what I see. All that I perceive, all that I see-"

"See? See what, exactly?"

"In this case, the future, little one. I can see the future, among other things-though it's so…limited. My vision, my sight, as you say it, is curbed, restricted-"

"So?"

A smile, the tiniest of smiles touched Circe's lips, her dark eyelashes flickering against her high, prominent cheekbones. Black curls, like twirls of painted oil, stirred slightly against her heaving chest, bobbing up and down with the soft blue silk. Her perfect fingers, long and bony, twitched faintly upon her lap, her shoulder pulling farther back into a straight, hard line. Sparks beamed in those black, black eyes.

Great.

She's smiling again.

Sparrow was utterly quiet beside me, his hand like a slab of cold meat.

Little Jack chattered something.

"So?"

"So," there was a slight twitch in her small smile, a strange light blooming in her lifeless, stone eyes as her trickling, odd voice spoke slowly and calmly, "It…It is my sight, little one, that is pointing the way. My ability to see the future, to perceive the things that are to come, is the one reason why my name is on that map."

"I don't-" Barbossa began, breaking in with his voice, but Circe cut him clean off, her smooth, wondrous voice overwhelming his like a breath of spring.

"I see the path, gentlemen, little one. I can see the way you must go, the way you three must lead in order to reach the Fountain of Youth, and hence, immortality. Of course, Captain Turner, it is mortality that you will find under my instruction."

"So," Will spoke now, leaning against the metal bars and looking over at Circe from a half-angle, his arm pressed against the rusting iron, his dark curls shivering in the shadows along with his gleaming eyes, "You do know the way."

"Yes, Captain. I do."

"All the way?"

"No," Black curls, like turrets of swirling midnight, bounced gently as the ethereal demi-goddess shook her head, her eyes fluttering slightly as cold, granite eyes stared at me, and only at me, "Like…Like I said, gentlemen, little one, I can only see some part of the way, not all of it. Not now, anyway."

"So, you only know how to lead us half of dem way, den," Barbossa concluded, his thick lips still drawn across in a bitter, straight line, yellow eyes like lifeless slits as he mimicked Will's exact pose directly opposite him, "You don't know de whole path."

"Not yet…it will come to me, eventually. In time, I will see all the way before us, like how I see the nearer future right now."

Huh?

"Nay…I don't quite…how-"

"Please, Hector. Don't question things that you are much better off never knowing about."

For a moment, no one said a word as our thoughts fuelled about in our heads, our eyes glazed over as the silence took control yet again. Barbossa's large, knitted hat pressed hard against the bars, Little Jack taking shelter in its black shade; opposite him, Will stood in his exact pose, quiet with thought, brow furrowed in concentration. His dark brown eyes stared silently at his metal boots as his voice kept silent, a hand propped up against his belt as dark curls shivered; a part of me, a strong, undeniable part of me wanted to stand up, reach forward and touch him, to trace my fingers along that firm jaw, to whisper sweet nothings into his ear. I wanted to stare at him again, to gaze deep into those innocent, dark eyes, to drown in those stirring pools…

A pull, a horrid, dreadful pull tugged at my heart as I watched him silently, pulling me deep down into the black darkness.

Will.

It was as if someone, something, was eating me from the inside, gnawing through my flesh and bones.

I'm so pathetic.

"All those years," Barbossa's trailing voice brought me back into the gloomy, chilling dungeons, snapping me out of my foggy daydream and pulling my eyes back towards him again, "All those unforgettable years…how on earth did yer hid it all from us, Circe?"

Huh?

Both Jacks were utterly silent.

As a line formed upon my brow, curiosity gnashing, Circe spoke in reply, her voice like a whispering mist, slithering through an ancient, teeming jungle.

"It wasn't that hard," the smile on her lips, the small, barely-there smile was beginning to widen, the strange spark in her ice, dead eyes brightening like a living flare, "the lot of you weren't very bright."

"Aye, perhaps we-"

"Wait," Will interrupted them again, raising a hand to stop the train of conversation, his crisp accent filling the damp air as the beads of sweat in his moustache glimmered in the non-existent light, "We're going off topic here. Again-aren't we suppose to be discussing about what lies ahead of us?"

"Aye, Turner, but less me be mistaken, we're already done."

"Done?" his hand swung back, hooking onto the belt beneath his leather coat again, his brown eyes wide as his arms pressed harder against the metal bars, "Done? We haven't learned anything yet."

"Perhaps hence 'cause there's nothing to learn, lad! Like Circe said, she hasn't seen-"

"Actually," Circe smooth, unblemished voice filtered through the chilling air, snapping Barbossa's and Will's conversation strand with a light lilting to a melody, "I said that I haven't seen all of the path, of the trail to the Fountain of Youth. I haven't seen everything…though that doesn't mean I've seen nothing at all."

"What?" It was the first time I had spoken in a while, and with a slight annoyed ring to it too. My features slowly crumbled together with irritation; after all, this was all becoming some mindless chatter, the topic losing itself over and over again. Nothing was making sense, not as clearly as before anyway; I still couldn't see why I was being tortured, why I had to be here, instead of walking about in the glorious afternoon light, talking frivolously with Scarlett-

Maybe this isn't so bad after all.

The clammy, sickly air in here though was making things quiet unnerving.

"What do you mean?" Will quirked his eyebrows a little, leaning more against the bars as his head swivelled over to stare into the cell, and right at Circe; was it me or did Will never turn to look fully at Circe? Was it only my imagination that he didn't face the prison cell face-first, but only by the side with an arm leaning against the bars?

Like he was afraid to have direct eye contact with that witch or something?

Then again, looking at those dead, soulless eyes…

I don't blame him.

Beside me, hand still on my shoulder, Sparrow showed no sign of life, his face lost in the shivering gloom.

His hand felt like dead meat.

Little Jack muttered a soft, barely audible squeal.

Circe sighed again.

"It's quiet trying, talking to you mortals sometime," a hand reached up to pat at her brow, padding off any sweat as her dark eyelashes fluttered shut again, "You never quite keep up."

"Circe, I don't-"

"In 2 days time," her eyes were like block of pure rock as she gazed up at us again, her cold, emotionless orbs staring straight at me, the small smile on her lips fading away into the shadowy oblivion all around, "you, gentlemen and my little one, will come upon the first of the two obstacles. That is, of course, if you keep west."

"Obstacles?" Barbossa voiced, arching a grey, thin eyebrow above one of his slit-yellow eyes. His red skin glistened with little droplets; at his shoulder, Little Jack pawed about at his gangly, messy brown hair, beady black eyes piercing through the bars with a quiet remorse. His black-and-white tail whipped through the tail.

Will kept his silence this time.

Sparrow was as usual.

"Yes. Obstacles…you really didn't expect to just find me, and then sail happily towards the Fountain of Youth just like that, did you?"

"Well, no-"

"What you talking about?" I myself quirked an eyebrow as I pulled my leg closer towards my chest, pressing a free hand down against the rain barrel beneath me, "We trekked through a thick, annoying jungle, seeking an all-powerful witch-"

"I'm not that powerful, little one."

"…only to find out that she's been grounded my dear old mummy and her menacing threesome of sirens, and that the only way to free the witch was to kill a siren-"

"Actually, no one said anything about killing sirens. You were, after all, only meant to scare them a-"

"Joey's a child," Will decided to add his bit in just as I left my mouth hanging open, letting my last word echo along with Circe's trail, "How on earth did you expect her to scare-"

"You would think," I stared straight at Circe, completely ignoring Will's intrusive voice as I raised a single eyebrow at her, my eyes meeting hers despite the itch at the back of my throat, "that all of that would be an obstacle enough."

Off to the right, at the bars, Will sighed, snapping his jaw shut at the very moment I cut him out of the conversation. A sigh rattled through his weatherworn body, his muscles stretching beneath tanned skin; for a moment, at the corner of my eyes, I caught a flicker of a gaze in my direction, soulful brown orbs burrowing towards me.

And then, he was side longing at Circe again.

This is all so bloody-

"The price of immortality is high, little one," Circe said simply enough as she matched my stare with her own icy one, her lips pursed slightly against her liquid-smooth, brown face, "Something as simple as freeing me from the island is not quite enough."

"It's enough for me."

"What about these obstacles, though?" Barbossa spoke again, his voice splintering through the air like an axe smashing its thick blade through the thick trunk of a tree, "What exactly are they?"

"I don't know."

Finally, I was the one to sigh, letting the deep breath ripple through my body like a rushing tide, a paling wave flowing gently above dark sand. Sparrow's hand was cold and dead.

"Some good you are."

8888888888888

I shouldn't be doing this.

I shouldn't be standing here, in the dark corner by the staircase, peering around the slimy, green edge, hiding in the shadows. I shouldn't be holding my breath, freezing my heart in place as my eyes raked through the darkness, wading blindly about in search for my target. I shouldn't be tasting the foul tang of guilt at the back of my throat, pressing my side against the cold, cold wall as my ears searched out into the abyss, listening to every drip, every drop.

I shouldn't be doing this.

I shouldn't be eavesdropping on Sparrow and Circe.

Then again, life would be awfully dull if you didn't do the things that you shouldn't do.

Behind me, Will's hot breath whistled against my ear, sliding over my cheek like a warm wave rushing over tired, wet sand.

"You shouldn't be doing this."

"Yup," was my only hushed reply as I stared out into the encroaching, shivering gloom, a hand grabbing onto the slimy edge of the wall, my cheeks grazing against the icky surface; behind me, Will's heat radiated against me in lengths, like a whip torturing my back, relentless and unnerving. His shadow loomed above like a giant shade, pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket; the chill, the familiar chill of the dungeons riched the gloomy air like a stirring breeze, freezing time in its place. Rats skittered and squealed in corners, spicing the dead atmosphere with their frantic screams, their chilling shrieks. The world was calm and steady beneath our feet.

I couldn't even see anything.

Truth be told, I hadn't wanted Will here. It hadn't been part of my plan to have him hulking over my shoulder, breath hot against the nape of my neck, as I spied upon Sparrow and Circe. No, it hadn't been part of the plan at all; after all, when I saw that Sparrow was lagging behind after our little, useless meet earlier on, the simple, impulsive plan was to jump into the dark corner, by myself, and see what exactly was going to happen next.

Will joining me was not what I had in mind.

Something skittered by my feet.

Everything smelt like cold, old metal.

The world was liquid ink.

Behind me, Will was whispering again, his warm breath kissing against my ears, kicking my heart into overdrive.

"I'm serious, Joey," a sigh, the barest of sighs touched his soft words, like a whisper of a wind, kissing against my ear, "If Jack finds you…us…he'll get mad. Circe might get mad too."

The icky, slimy wall smelt like old cheese.

"Yup."

"You don't care, do you?"

"Nope."

Will just sighed in reply.

For a moment, neither of us spoke as we just stared over the edge of the wall, at the darkness beyond; off to the left, quite near us, the rotting, yellowish-green bars glinted faintly in the darkness, odd shapes, barely discernible in the blackness. Shadows shifted about, like wraiths, lost and lonely; from this dark corner, from this little black chasm, all of the dungeons had plummeted into a darker light, all the faint lines and shapes disappearing into the ink night. The grey gloom was now a shaky black shadow, a murky depth with no shape, no direction. I couldn't even see past the wall before me, couldn't even make out anything past the metal bars-it was nothing more then a sea of shivering darkness, where one could easily get lost in for hours on end.

Of course, only 5 minutes ago, standing before Circe's cell, it hadn't been that bad; just then, I could see everyone else clearly and though everything was grey and bleak and shadowy, I could still actually see.

But now, in this corner…

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

What a strange place this is, where shadows leap about at their fancy…

Will was way too close.

"You really shouldn't be doing this, Joey."

"Then go."

Behind me, Will's voice dropped lower as a sound rang dully through the air, through the cold, numbing air- a soft shuffle, down the black corridor. My heart stopped in standstill as I pressed nearer against the wall, the ick pulsing against my cheek as eyes searched helplessly through the darkness. My chest heaved in short, quick breaths, my fingers teething with trembles; as the world stood still, waiting, waiting, Will leaned closer in, his voice falling in a raspy, thick tone.

"Why are you eavesdropping anyway?" his breath, his sweet, hot breath tickled against my hair as he pushed himself nearer towards me, his heat increasing with each second, "It's rude. And wrong."

"Nobody asked you to tag along, goody-two-shoes."

"But why are you doing this?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I pressed myself harder against the black wall, trying to pierce through the darkness by squinting my eyes as my heart hammered away in my chest, my voice low in the chilling gloom, "TO GET DIRT." Sweat itched down my back; behind me, Will inched a little closer, his heat slapping against my back, his breath as hot as summer rain against my cheeks and ears.

He was way too close.

"Dirt?"

"Information, my chipmunk, valuable knowledge, the low down…"

"I don't-"

"Forget it, Will," I whispered with a hint of a sigh, pressing farther against the slimy wall, eyes clawing through the darkness, my every sense awake as I held my breath away, "I just want…I just wanted to…"

For a moment, faint silence filled the metal-tinged air again as my whisper faded into the quiet, the words lost in the dull chatter of rats squirming about; behind me, Will was silent too, each hot breath brushing against the tip of my ear and running through my hair. His strong, relentless heat forced against me like a pushing, hot gale, trapping me against the cold, cold wall. His breath lulled in my ears like a singing melody.

He really was too close.

Blast it.

For a moment, neither of us spoke as we just stared over the edge of the wall, glaring out into the darkness, ears alert and awake; what was Sparrow doing? After all, I was pretty sure he had lingered back after we all had left, wandering about in front of Circe's cell in his odd, flightily manner. I was prettysure he was still there, somewhere in all that gloom, not making a single sound…

More than the world.

Standing there, blinded in the darkness, Will looming behind without a word, the memory of last night, of the beautiful black skies and the soft moonlight, zapped across my vision, blotting out any remnants of the ink black world and the chilling air; for a moment, I could hear Sparrow's words playing about again, his soft voice whispering out into the darkness as we shared out sleep-stained thoughts. His soft, twisting voice, calm and serene, edged through my memory, filling my world with the slow waking dream of the ethereal, black night before:

A black world…singing sea…taste of rum mingled with salt…hard black shadow of Sparrow…his calm, tired voice echoing out into the darkness…me asking about Circe, if he loved her….a long sigh, like the wind gliding above clouds…sleep pulling me away…darkness licking at the corners…Sparrow saying yes…

"What are you thinking about?" Will's murmured calmly, his breath tickling the lobes of my ear and snapping me out of my daydream like a light piercing through a thick wall of fog. A gasp escaped from my lips; ahead of us, around the bend of the black wall and in the middle of all that blackness, something groaned against the hard stable wood, something large and heavy.

Something too big to be a rat.

Behind me, Will sucked in a deep breath.

Silence thumped in my ears.

For a few minutes, neither of us spoke as we stood frozen in place, all our senses watching out for the slightest bit of movement. Our breaths caught in our throats.

No one spoke.

Why are we so high-strung anyway?

It's just Sparrow…and Circe…

Well, the last part makes sense.

Finally, after several minutes of pure silence, tinged here and there by rats' squabbles, I breathed out again, letting the hot air mirth right against the black, leeching wall.

Will let go as well.

With a fluttering of dark eyelashes, I closed my eyes, letting the sigh ripple through my body with a controlled measure, the slime wetting my palm. My heart thundered about in my ear.

"Nothing," I breathed out softly, staring past the edge of the wall, at the shivering, quavering darkness, "Nothing…I just…something Sparrow said last night, that's all."

"Last night?"

"Yup. Last night."

"Last night."

"Yes, moron. Last night."

"Last night."

"Look, how many times do you want-"

All of a sudden, a hand, a strong, sticky hand, clamped over my mouth, pressing down against my lips with a quick, sudden force. A hard arm squashed against the side of my head, curving around my curls and drawing me back; panic, raw panic exploded within me as the hard hand cut off my train of words, shutting me up completely and holding me tight. My breath lost itself somewhere in the overwhelming darkness.

What the-

"Listen," Will's hot breath whistled in my ear as he inched his face right beside mine, his hot hand holding tight over my lips. My breath whimpered within me as my hands retracted back, clawing upward through the never-ending dark; but it was hopeless. Somewhere, looming behind me, chest pressing against my back and hand over lips, Will was as still as a rock, the arm muscles around my head tight and strained. His sweet breath, sweet hot breath, rustled against my cheek like a sharp knife, each pull a terrible pain. My heart thundered beneath his grasp.

Too close.

Wayyyyy too close.

That was when I heard it.

Out of the shivering, black gloom, out of all the darkness and quivering shadows, a voice whispered out smoothly, like the sound of a gentle waterfall trickling down onto a stub of heavy rocks.

"…and I suppose you want to talk, Jack?"

It was barely there, a naked, hollow rumour gliding out of the shaky abyss like a breeze breathing out a low sigh. It was nothing more then a shivering murmur; yet, it was there, a soft and beautiful voice lulling out of the shadows like a discerning mist, filling up my world like a gentle wave.

Circe.

Will's hand tasted of salt.

I held my breath.

Out of the black folds, Sparrow's familiar voice rang out, clear and dissonant like a ringing bell.

"If yer willing," there was no emotion in his voice, no sense of feelings at all; fingers, cold fingers leaped all the way up and began to tug at Will's fierce hand, my eyes snapping about above it. Dark brown orbs tore through the darkness, searching every corner, up and down, for any sign of human life.

And demi-goddess.

But there was nothing; there was nothing but the black shade of the world, the shadows pressing in from every direction. No shape, no line, no life…

Will's hand tightened over my lips as I pulled at it, my fingers digging into invisible lines, trying to pry apart his clenching fingers.

His breath was steady against my cheek.

He smelt like the sea.

In front of us, beyond the ragged edge of the black wall, Circe's voice sang out again, her tone carrying a slight lilt.

"Well, there's nothing to talk about. Nothing at all, don't you think?"

"Nay," Sparrow answered her back, bland and focus, not a trait of emotion, "Nay, Circe…we've had much to talk about."

"Oh? Like what, Jack? What exactly do we have to talk about? After all, we haven't seen de likes of each other in over 20-"

"20 years, aye. I know that…I know that well….I've counted every second since…s-since…"

A hand, a warm, comforting hand, grabbed onto the upper part of my left arm, pulling it away as I continued my onslaught against my gag; it was Will, his rough, sea-tanned skin brushing coarsely against my bare arm as he held it tightly, restraining my struggling movements. His fingers dug deep into my skin; a whimper, a muffled whimper moaned out from behind Will's hand as I fought to be freed, but Will's only response was for me to shut it up.

His alluring heat overwhelmed my every sense, my every feeling, my every nerve.

His hand was like fire on my arm.

His dark curls kissed against the side of my head, smelling of fresh salt and the rich sun.

His breath was like a sweet melody.

Focus, Joey…

"Since you left me for dead."

Out of the darkness, Sparrow kept his silence, letting Circe's sweet, odd voice echo above the squealing of rats and Will's heavy breathing with a resounding, whispering ding.

My insides felt like churned butter.

Will was utterly quiet.

When Sparrow spoke again, it was in a softer tone, so soft that I had to lean forward in Will's grasp, pulling against his hot gag and pressing farther against the wall.

The man resisted like hell.

Sparrow's voice was like a whisper.

" I didn't leave you, Lily," I could barely tell it was him, barely could tell that it was indeed the notorious, disgusting Captain Jack Sparrow that was speaking-so odd was his tone, so foreign that I thought, for a second, that there was another person in the dungeons, "I didn't…I would never leave you."

"Ah, but you did."

"No…No…yer mother…Calypso…she took yer-"

"But you didn't stop her."

"An' wat, luv? What was I suppose to do-go against de Goddess of Sea?"

"Yes."

"We're all not as mad as dat Joey."

"No, just not as brave," Circe said simply enough, her voice like gentle snowflakes playing about in the breeze, cool and collected. Not an emotion sang through her odd, magical voice; behind me, enveloping me on either side, Will sucked in a thick breath, leaving my cheek feeling cold and forgotten. His hand tightened on my arm.

Like a beating, toasting flame.

God…of all things to say, Circe….

"Yer think goin' up against dem sirens was brave?"

"No…fighting, preparing to die, for the man she loves was brave."

Going…to…kill…Circe…

"What?" Will whispered in my ear, breath like a flaming torch against my ear, arms tight on me like binding hot iron, "What man-"

I cut Will off with a quick shush, low and quiet in the black world-it was dumb, not that I think about, shushing the man who had his hand over my lips and splattering my oh-so-precious saliva all over his palm. It was completely dumb-I had to do it though, to do something in order to kill the train of conversation and bite down the embarrassment bubbling within me.

Why though? Will already knows I'm sort of in love with him…well…he knows that I'm falling in love with him which is, of course, a completely different thing altogether.

Or was it?

God, I don't know anything anymore…

And I was missing the rest of the whispered conversation.

"I would have fought for yer too, Lily," Sparrow's voice took on an edge I had never heard before, a softer, almost pleading edge that sounded so strange in his tone, "I would have fought-"

"But you didn't."

"I would have-"

"But you didn't," Circe's voice was still and dead, "You left me, Jack. You left me."

And then, there was silence.

Cold, dead silence.

For a few, long minutes, the world was completely quiet, safe the squabbling rats and the odd sound of wood creaking in odd places. Nothing moved, nothing stirred; behind me, Will was as still as a rock, every part of him hot and alive as a burning, leaping flame. His breath was a stirring, hot breeze against my face, strident and strong- for a moment, I just stood in place, savouring his touch on my lips and arm, eyes searching through the darkness. My heart raced within my chest. My blood pulsed like a rushing brook.

I didn't breathe.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of pure, inhumane silence, Will moved; with a deep sigh, he pulled back his hand, freeing my lips of his presence, his smell. The chilling air, the metallic, damp air touched my lips again as his hand pulled back behind him, his arm pulling strands of my hair as it retracted back to his body.

His hand didn't leave my arm though.

My lips were free again.

The darkness didn't move.

With a soft murmur, like the rustling of cloth, Will spoke into my ear, his breath like an appealing scent.

"Shall we go now?"

"No," was my only whispering reply as I stared out into the dark, trying my every best to ignore his grip, to ignore him, as I listened out into the quivering shadows, "Not yet." Nothing moved, nothing squeaked, safe the rats-it was as if there truly was no one there, no Circe, no Sparrow, somewhere in that pool of darkness. My fingers, for some reason, felt like heavy lead as they sank back down to my side, my arm burning beneath Will's hard grip. My insides churned away.

Behind me, just near the edge of my head and with invisible, unseeable curls playing against my ear, Will sighed again, like a sweet song.

"Joey, there's nothing more-"

"What happened to them?"

"What?"

"Sparrow…Circe…"

At my left arm, against my bare skin with a little finger just touching the edge of the yellow cloth, Will loosened his grip, releasing the skin by just a fraction as his hand relaxed slightly.

Blood rushed into that area, like a scourging pulse.

My hair ruffled in his breath.

He was so warm…

"It isn't my story to tell, Joey," his whisper like the pulling of the sea wind, warm and strong, sighing out in a low note, "I can't tell you."

"But you know it?"

"Aye…my father told me of it, not too long ago."

"Then why can't you just-"

"Because it's Jack's tale, Joey. He should be the one to tell it."

"But what's it about, Will?"

Will didn't answer.

For a moment, we waited in the silence, bathing in each other's heat; beside me, Will's dark brown curls, nothing at all in the darkness, shivered against my face, grazing against my skin with soft, unnerving kisses. His hand was looser on my arm, releasing and relaxing the muscles, hot as a scorched, red iron against my skin. His breath smelt like a fresh spring of rain.

There was nothing but darkness before us.

Darkness and the rats' squeals.

And Will's breath.

For a moment, neither of us did anything, our eyes trained into the darkness, watching out for any signs of life.

Watching and silent.

And then, Will turned his head towards me.

I felt his curls swing against my skin, dapping against the edge of my bandana as his breath turn to blow directly at me, pressing against my skin like a gushing, hot wave. His body heat was insane-I couldn't think, not a thought, as he turned his eyes down on me, away from the darkness, towards me.

Only me.

His breath was like a lulling song, singing in the midnight gloom in a fresh lullaby.

His hand was like molten lava.

Oh God…

Slowly, I turned as well, swinging my head in the dark, towards my left; I couldn't see a thing, not a bloody thing yet I knew he was there, right beside me, gazing down at me through the thick, horrid dark. No lines, no shapes at all; just a strong, wonderful heat, washing over me like thick waves licking against white shores. He smelt like the stirring sea; I stopped moving altogether as my nose, the very tip of it, hit against soft skin, soft burning skin.

Will…

My hands moved automatically, rising up slowly as my body pivoted around, my eyes shutting close in the midnight dark. My breath lost itself in my chest; at my arm, Will was helping to turn me around, flexing me around with a strong hand, a strong, scorching hand. His arm rippled against my back; in front of me, behind the pure gloom of my shut eyes, Will sucked in a thick breath, his chest heaving in with an abrupt pull.

My boots helped moved me along.

My heart screamed like a beating gong.

Stop, Joey.

Stop it this instant this instant!

But I couldn't.

In front of me, at the tip of my nose, the rough, burning skin began to slide downwards; it must have been his jaw line, for the skin was covered with coarse stubbles and short hair. Heat slapped against the bridge of my nose; I was burning up, from the inside, from the outside, smouldering in my place like a torching, uncontrollable pyre.

So was Will.

I heard him gasp just by my left ear, his lips grazing against the side of my face, smooth and hot.

His hand kept its hold on me, his arm beginning to stretch forth and wrap around my waist, coiling about my body, pulling me close.

He was burning.

His face was moving in the dark, skin sliding over skin as he grazed his lips across my cheek lightly, leaving a trail of burning fire.

My breath was locked away in my chest, squeezing me tight.

My hands made contact-I didn't know how it got there, but before I knew it, my hands were trailing up his chest, inching forward through the blackness, sliding over the harsh cloth and leather, gliding over his lean muscles.

His dark curls whispered against my face, igniting little dots of flame all about my blooming face.

My heart refused to move.

His other hand touched against my waist, just as his right hand released its hold of my arm, gliding over my bare skin to rest in the centre of my back, a blooming flower of raw, unforgiving heat.

His breath tasted like fresh rain, a hot, swirling rain breathing into my face, against my lips.

My left hand lost itself in the folds of black leather, inching beneath the dark, hard cloth, tracing up his hot, sweaty shoulder.

My right thumb kissed against the bare of his skin.

Our lips met.

For a minute, I didn't know what was happening to me, what was happening to me at all; I just felt Will's lips on me, soft and beautiful, burning like a scorching, boiling kiss of death. His curls murmured and moaned against the sides of my face, my eyelashes fluttering against his hot skin. My hands felt as if they were on fire; before I knew myself, before I knew anything, Will had taken me away, pressing deep into our kiss, burning away.

His lips tasted like sweet rum.

Inside me, deep inside of me, the world was alive, bright and beautiful with so many colours; I opened my mouth, letting him in, giving myself completely, indulging in his sweet, tantalizing taste. My entire body felt as if it were on fire, igniting from my raw centre-Will tasted like every shade of the rainbow, like clear spring water, like a frail moonbeam in the gloomy night.

My heart felt like it could explode.

He drew me close, so close to him, engulfing me, enveloping me with his long, lean arms; we drew into each other, two separate entities letting each other in, giving everything we got. Our fingers left trails of fire over each other's skin, our lips unyielding against one another; passion, the strongest, the most tempest, burst forth from within me as I reached upward and cupped his face, pulling him towards me, fingers splaying out against skin. Our lips melded together, uncontrollable, unyielding.

Unbreakable.

It was then, at the very moment, that I knew the truth.

The real, undoubtedly, undeniable truth.

I love you.

"What are yer two doin' down here?" Sparrow's voice tore through the wondrous, colourful fog, shattering everything like a hammer against hard, clear glass. My insides jumped in surprise; before I knew it, I had pulled away from Will, leaping away from his hands, his lips, back into the wavering darkness. Coldness pulled me away in its leeching arms, blowing out the roaring fire with a hard, unnerving slap; it tore through us, separating us as I staggered back into the blackness, snapping my eyes open to the shaking, quivering gloom.

I couldn't see anything.

My heart screamed in agony.

In front of us, somewhere in all that dark, Sparrow's tall, looming shadow shifted about in its queer manner, his large hat obvious in the shivering gloom. He was much closer now; he stood just a meter away, an obvious shape watching out of the dark with gleaming, coal eyes.

Will's eyes burned like pyres before me.

My heart raked against my skull.

The icy cold raped me.

Will….Oh, Will….

He's breathing was ragged before me.

"Well?" Sparrow croaked again, voice riched with annoyance, unfamiliar as hell-before me, Will was gasping, sucking in the cold, metallic air with loud, loud gasps. His heat died away like a waning candle; I stayed out of his reach, pulling farther into the abyss, farther away from him. My hands drew up to wrap around me.

Will…Oh, Will…

What have I done?

Sparrow cleared his throat.

For a moment, no one spoke as I stared up into the burning pyres of eyes, refusing to budge, to speak, to breathe.

My blood rushed about my body in waves.

My fingers were as cold as ice.

A sob died in my heart.

"We…We…We just wanted to a-ask you…. how do you make-up your eyes, Sparrow?"

In front of me, Will audibly groaned.

OMG…I can't believe I just wrote that….

Wow…. honestly, folks, I…I really don't know what to say about that last part. I really don't…the only thing I can really say is, well…

DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME!

Anyway, now that's off my chest…

69 reviews, guys! AMAZING! Thank you so much, really! THANK YOU!XD

Secondly, I've been thinking and well, I'm going to have some question thing on every chapter I do. No, it's not about the writing style, or the story, or advice…I was thinking that every chapter, I'm going to ask questions that I'm really curious to find out about!

So…this week's grand slam is:

What do you guys HATE about Joey?

Tell me what you think on my review page, guys! I really want to hear from you-if you want it to be personal, for some ODD reason, you can always send me a message and I promise to answer you! Honestly, I don't why I'm doing this but…. JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!

That's it for now! Watch out for the next one!

XOXO