Author's Note: It's April Fools Day and I don't have any tricks up my sleeve besides another chapter. Hope that works instead ;) Let me know what you think about it! Next update this weekend!

Melody was now on her knees at Harry's feet, pulling at his breeches. "Help me get these off," she demanded. Then she was mumbling to herself. "Dear sweet seas, unbelievable!"

This sudden change in her position had caused an immediate stir behind them and she could feel more than a few eyes on her as Harry unbuckled his belt and shimmied his breeches down. This left him exposed with nothing but a pair of skimpy black linen shorts underneath, maybe the pirate version of underwear. Gods only knew, but she tried to avert her eyes.

"I cannae say I expected to have yeh on yer knees with me pants around me ankles, but – "

"Shut it, Harry," she warned, gritting her teeth. She was not in the mood for the lying pirate's humor at the moment.

She tried to ignore the eyes of her friends on her and the burning heat on her cheeks from being so close to all of his extra exposed skin. Instead, she focused on untying the red bandana he had hanging from his sword's hilt, using it to gently dab at the blood streaming from his wound. She needed to see the extent of the injury underneath.

"We're gettin' a few stares now, lass. Yeh should see Jane's face, she – "

"For seas sake, Harry would you shut up already?" She sucked in a breath, finally able to see the size of the injury on his upper thigh. It was a good three-inch long gash deep enough to have sliced through muscle. It had missed the major artery but hit enough blood vessels to be worrisome. She needed to staunch the bleeding for now and he should be rushed back to shore to get it stitched and treated with antibacterials.

"This is deep. You need to lie back." Her voice was still strained and louder than normal. Between her anger at their previous conversation and the sudden flood of worry she'd had from seeing all of his blood, she was quickly losing her cool. When he didn't move quickly, she raised her volume even more. "Now, Harry!"

"Yeh dinnae need to yell," he said, but he was already moving toward the railing to follow her order. That didn't stop him from mumbling a complaint as he did so. "I've seen better bedside manner outta the back alleys of the Isle."

"I'm still mad at you, Harry. Just because you're hurt doesn't mean our earlier discussion is over. Now, lie back and take off your jacket, too. You can use it as a pillow."

"Yes ma'am." He let the sarcasm drip from his words as he hobbled over toward the side of the deck, took off his jacket, and sat down. He leaned against the rail and wadded up his jacket to use like a pillow as she'd suggested. Then, he gingerly extended his leg for her to inspect, wincing as it straightened. Blood gushed from the wound again with the change in position and she tried to mask her fear. It was pretty bad.

"Saw yeh fixin' up old Sal earlier," he asked, completely oblivious. "How'd yeh learn how to doctor like this?"

"Books mostly," she said, scanning to make sure he wasn't bleeding from anywhere else. "Had some practice with the sailors in my father's fleet, too, when I interned with a navy surgeon last semester."

Those times the men had suffered mostly accidents. Sailing and fishing came with a lot of those types of injuries, but this was the first time she'd had to treat a wound from a sword. Last year, she'd thought for a while she would enjoy being a doctor, but the idea of being trapped on shore in a hospital had her considering alternatives which was when she'd decided on field research.

She tried to rip the cloth of his breeches to make a bandage, but her hands couldn't find a starting point in the fabric. She needed something sharp.

She opened her palm and held it out flat for Harry. "Hook," she demanded.

"Hope yer not usin' this on me." But he placed it in her hand anyway, watching as she used its sharp point to stab holes in the pants and started shredding them into cloth strips.

"Those were my best breeches."

"Not any more," she said. "Besides, they're blood soaked and had a stab hole though them."

"Just the way I like 'em," he answered, finally quieting to watch her work.

She made a bandage, then wrapped it around his leg and secured it. She made another one, this one thicker and took Harry's hand, showing him where to position it to apply pressure to stop the bleeding.

"Hold your hand over the bandage right here, and don't move."

Melody turned around to find the three familiar faces of Jane, Carlos, and Jay staring back at her, only they were three shades paler than she'd ever seen them.

"Is he okay?" Jane side-stepped as she wobbled a bit, eyes widening even further as she looked at Melody's hands. Luckily, Carlos was there with an arm around her to keep her steady.

Melody hadn't realized it until just then, but her hands were absolutely covered in Harry's blood.

"He's lost a fair amount of blood." That was a glaring understatement, but Melody didn't want anyone else panicking. That wouldn't help anything. "He's going to need stitches and a doctor as fast as we can get him there."

Melody picked up what was left of Harry's pants and tried using them to wipe her hands.

"Can he walk?" Carlos asked.

"He shouldn't," she said.

Jay grimaced." I'll help him into the first rowboat and we'll get him back to the University Health Center."

"We should call an ambulance at least," Melody said. "They can meet us at the pier and give him some fluids on the way."

"Hello? Guys?" Harry said, drawing out the words then giving a little grin and a hand wave to go with it. "I'm right here, yeh can stop talkin' about me like I'm dead. Dinnae I get any say in what happens to me?"

They all answered at once. "No."

And Melody shook her head, even after losing what was at least two pints of blood and still going, he was making jokes. No, he most certainly could not be trusted to make his own medical decisions. He would have been content to continue bleeding out onto the deck without ever saying a word.

"And someone will need to explain all of this to the University," Jane said. "They should be aware there are pirates out there looking to capture one of their students. That they've tried to kill some of our students. Maybe the authorities can help us."

"Are you kiddin'?" Harry laughed. "They cannae help us. Yeh really think a squishy bunch of professors are goin' to protect us from the crew of The Black Pearl?"

"He's right." Uma said, coming up behind them suddenly. "Our best bet is to build our own fleet. Figure out how to fight back."

Uma's dark eyes settled on Harry and her lips fell apart as she noticed his wound. She swallowed as her gaze roved over the blood staining the deck.

In a heartbeat the captain was kneeling at her first mate's side, running a comforting hand along his arm, and Melody suddenly felt like she was intruding.

"Harry Hook, as your captain I order you to not die, okay?" Her smile was forced and tense.

"I'm not yer first mate anymore," he teased. "You cannae order me around like that."

"Watch me." She gestured to the bloody bandages wrapped around his leg. "How did you manage to hide the fact that you'd been practically impaled?"

"I couldnae let those bilge-suckers near yeh, now could I?" Harry was saying to Uma. "And yeh know how they can smell weakness, like sharks in the water when they get the scent of blood."

"Still," Uma said, her glare hardening. "You could have said something ten minutes ago."

He shrugged. "More important discussions were in progress."

Uma shook her head as though this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this.

The ship shuddered again as Uma's crew made adjustments to their course, slowing The Lost Revenge to cross the final shallow stretch toward where they would anchor her in the bay. Uma strode off again, making sure the crew got their orders. They were taking Harry back to land to find a doctor. They could tell them Harry had some kind of sailing accident or something, because he was getting medical attention whether he liked it or not.

Eventually, Harry had been helped into the seat on the rowboat across from Gil, while the other injured men had been taken to the second rowboat. Uma had been hesitant to stay behind on the ship, but she had a crew to watch over and Melody promised to take care of Harry. The promise seemed to satisfy her, but she could see Uma watching from above as the rowboats were lowered down to the surface below.

Now, Melody sat next to Harry on the same bench they'd shared on the way over. She checked his bandage again. It was blood soaked already, so she put another over it and tied it on.

As Gil began rowing toward the pier in the distance, she didn't talk to Harry and he didn't say a word to her either. For once since she'd known him, Harry Hook didn't have the energy to talk.

The rhythm of the oars dipping into the water was the backdrop for her churning thoughts and it wasn't long before Melody realized she was scowling at Harry. But she couldn't help it. She was still feeling that deep, burning ache in her chest at being lied to and now she was worried about him on top of it.

She shouldn't be worried. Why did she even care? He'd obviously only wanted her for her locket. But the thought that all of this between them - the hand holding, the playful teasing, the magnetic pull she felt toward him – the thought that it was all an act was a crushing pressure around her heart. It was something she had not allowed herself to think about when she'd been busy tending to his wound back on deck.

But now… an uncomfortable burning began behind her eyes as the first pinpricks of tears threatened.

No. No. She couldn't cry, not with Gil facing her. Not where Harry could see.

She clenched her fists in her lap and breathed deep, until she was certain she had herself under control.

She glanced again at Harry's slumped form from the corner of her eye and noticed he was losing color now and his eyelids were starting to droop. He leaned onto his own lap, still applying pressure on his leg, but his head was propped on his hands, and he seemed unsteady, as though he would tip over at any moment.

And even though she wanted to, Melody found she couldn't even shoot him a proper dirty look anymore, because something like panic was now boiling in her stomach, making her nauseous. She'd done everything she could, didn't she? She'd applied pressure and wrapped his wound. Still, a thick, greasy fear was pulling at her energy, sucking the breath from her lungs and she couldn't deny it, she was afraid for him. Because despite everything, she had begun to care about the lying idiot whether he felt the same way or not.

"Gil, do you have any water?" she asked.

Gil never missed a beat with his oars as he answered with a shake of his head, "Sorry, Mel." He squinted into the setting sun as he studied his friend. Then, chewing at the inside of his cheek, he picked up his rowing pace by at least double.

"I brought some," Jane said from behind them. Melody had almost forgotten she and Carlos were there, she'd been so immersed in her own thoughts. Jane opened the flap on her bag and pulled out a pink water bottle bejeweled with tiny hearts.

"Thanks." Melody took the bottle, which was fortunately still full, and put a hand on Harry's back. "Harry, you need to drink something. You've lost a lot of blood, so your blood pressure is dropping. Staying hydrated will help."

Putting what looked like an immense amount of energy into sitting up straight, he fumbled with the lid. When he couldn't get it open, she unscrewed it for him and helped it to his mouth.

"Seas, Harry," was all she could say as he shakily swallowed a few sips.

He lowered the bottle and tried to smile but it was barely there, weak like everything else about him in this moment. "No," she insisted. "You need to finish it."

"So bossy." The words were whisper-light as though he didn't have the breath to power his own voice.

"I just don't feel like carrying a dead pirate all the way back to campus," she said, in a very transparent attempt to mask her concern with humor.

It took Harry a minute or two to finish the bottle and after he had, he looked like he was about to keel over on the spot.

"Let me see your hand." But instead of waiting for Harry's sluggish reflexes to process her command, she grabbed for his hand herself and placed it in her lap. She unstrapped his glove to get to the pulse point at his wrist. His pulse was there, still strong but much too fast considering he was only sitting there resting. His heart was working too hard bring enough oxygen to his organs. They needed to hurry.

She re-strapped his glove and Melody knew she should put his hand back in his own lap. But she didn't.

Harry blinked a few times, then closed his eyes tight. "Me head's spinnin' like I'm caught in a waterspout."

"Lie down," she said. "Keeping that leg elevated will help."

"There isnae room for that, its – "

She pulled his head down onto her lap. If he used her leg as a pillow and curled up on the bench, he'd have enough room to lie down.

He put up zero resistance, nestling into her as though he'd done it a hundred times.

The weight of him, snug and alive in her lap, was a shot of something electric in her veins and she was aware of her own heartbeat again as she looked down at the side of his face. This troublesome pirate had completely turned her college experience upside down. She should be back in her room, alone, studying right now. Instead, she was now fighting the strange urge to run her fingers through his hair. A pirate who had stolen from her. Lied to her. And she was considering petting him for seas' sake.

"Is he going to be okay?" Gil was panting, sweat now dripping down the sides of his face from the unrelenting pace he had set.

"I hope so," she admitted.

"I'm still here, guys," Harry reminded them, weakly. "Not dead yet, remember?"

She gave his arm a gentle pinch and he grabbed her hand. He pulled it down to him, twined their fingers, and held her hand underneath his chin.

She should have shaken his hand off then. But she didn't.

Harry two, Melody zero.

Gil glanced between them but said nothing as he rowed on.

"I truly am sorry, lass," Harry said, his voice barely audible over the splash of the oars and the light conversation behind them. "Broke me heart to hear yeh say yeh thought I was pretendin'. I made a mistake and I'm sorry for it. Will yeh still be able to stand bein' around me?"

"I haven't decided that, yet," she said, honestly. "First focus on surviving, then we'll talk about whether I'll be killing you myself, later."

He let out a weak chuckle before she felt him breathe deeply and relax a little more onto her lap. His eyes fluttered closed and his breathing slowed.

Everyone on the boat was quiet, watching the sun as it began to dip below the horizon, setting the ocean waves on fire in golden yellows and oranges. With Harry's warm body nestled in her lap and her hand held firm in his grasp, she, too, began to feel the effects of the day's events. The light slap of the waves splashing against the rowboat magnified the fatigue pulling down on her shoulders and the dull ache of her tired muscles.

And with the soft sounds of the sea all around and the sky smoldering with the sunset, she should have resisted. But she didn't.

She gave in, lifting her free hand and running it through the pirate's hair as he rested in her lap. She felt him stiffen at first with the unexpected touch, but then, as though she was unwinding the last bit of tension between them, he let out a long breath and melted into her lap. She repeated the motion again and again, raking her fingers through surprisingly soft tresses, telling herself that it didn't mean anything. That she was just being a good nurse trying to comfort her wounded patient.

But the simmering warmth in her chest was telling her something completely different.

Damn this pirate.