This is a remake of my Ocean's of Dreams fic, which will remain up.

I decided to remake it after 11 years, but it will be going slowly since I do have other fics that I am focusing on currently. I am rewriting it in my spare time and trying to do the original justice. This is just the opening scene to give clarity and show what type of person Genevieve is.

Please let me know what you think of this so far!

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. I only own Genevieve and any other original characters that may pop up.

My mother always said that I had my father's restless, adventurous spirit.

I never knew the man though, or rather, I had no memory of him. Apparently, he had stayed with us for a time after me and my brother were born. He kept his feet on land, settling in Scotland for a time, but according to my mother, he would always look out to the sea with longing, as if the open water kept calling to him. Tempting him. One day, he answered it, and never stepped foot back on land.

As far as we knew at least.

Our mother named my brother, William, after our father, wanting him to have a connection to our family than just their wedding vows and remind herself of the man she loved. At the insistence of our mother, our father named me, Genevieve, in hopes I would be an open and strong woman. At least, that's what our mother told me when I began asking questions about our absent father while we were living in England. Will was determined that our father was just busy being a merchant, while I had doubts about it. As much as I wanted to believe our mother about our father being a 'respectable merchant sailor' I couldn't help but think she was insisting it on it to hide the truth from us.

The last thing my brother and I received from our father were a pair of necklaces. One had an old gold medallion on it with skull on it, the other had a moonstone pendant. Our father never sent a note about the necklaces and we never received anything from him again since then, but Will and I never took the necklaces off. They were our only connection we had with our father, and we treasured them.

Our mother did her best to raise us, instilling proper manners and reason, but still tried enriching our minds and hearts. We were a close family, always looking out for one another. As Will and I entered our teen years, our mother became sick and died. It was a slow process, but at the time, it seemed far too quick. After her death, Will and I took what savings we had and gained passage on a ship, Will was determined to find our father, and I was determined to not let him go alone or let myself be alone. It was the second time we boarded a ship in our short lives, but that was the moment where I truly heard it.

The call.

I was always drawn to the sea, even a small child. My mother often worried that I would be swept up by the sea one day if I weren't careful. But I always was, I could sit by the sea for hours and never grow bored, just staring out into the open depths, listening as the waves crashed upon the shore. I never understood why I was so drawn to the water, but sailing upon that ship, I finally did.

I was being called, just as my father had been before me.

It wasn't uncommon most days to find me upon the deck, either staring out into the vast ocean, leaning against the taffrail, or watching the sailors go about their day. I found myself curious about the ship itself, and if I saw a sailor that was free, I often asked. I never bothered anyone while they worked though, I knew better than to do that. My brother often joined me, but he was more focused on the journey's end, rather than the journey itself. That was one difference between us, he focused on the future, I focused on the present.

Everything had been going fine for the past few weeks, the weather had been favourable, the seas were fair and calm. There had been no other ship in sight, no trouble brewed for us. The Captain was pleaded about it, musing that we would reach our destination in a few weeks time…. But just as the sea could be unpredictable, life had a habit of turning on its side.

I remember waking up suddenly, early that faithful morning. I wasn't sure what it was, but I felt restless. From my spot curled up next to Will, I managed to move away without waking him or anyone else. It was quiet, far too quiet even on a normal morning. The pit in my stomach twisted with uncertainty as I caught a glimpse of the morning sky. It was red, deep, and vibrant, almost glowing as I felt panic creep into my bones.

"Red Sky at night, Sailor's delight… Red Sky in the morning… Sailors take warning…" I murmured quietly to myself, remembering hearing those words at some point in my life, but I couldn't remember who said them.

All that I do remember was being up before sunrise, sitting on the beach with a blanket wrapped around me, and watching the sunrise with that person. It was a peaceful memory, and I remember being happy.

I hurried over to my brother and shook his arm. Will grumbled at me and tried removing his arm from my grasp, but I continued. When he finally opened his eyes, he was irritated and tired, he opened his mouth to snap at me, only to stop when he saw the panic in my eyes.

"What's going on, Genny?" he mumbled, sitting up to rub his eyes.

"It's a red morning…" I whispered hurriedly and his brows pinched together as he groaned.

"Not this again…" he muttered, but truthfully, I hadn't woken him up about a red morning since we were ten. "Genny, there's nothing to be—"

Will was cut off when something crashed against the side of the ship, causing it to shudder and tip. My brother stared at me with wide eyes as people around us began to panic. Tugging him onto his feet, I dragged my bother away from the walls just as began to split as something rammed into it. By now everyone was standing and panicking, up top we could hear yelling and shouting. Swords clanged against each other and the sounds of guns echoed around us. People were huddling together now, scared out of their wits as Will and I moved to find shelter of some kind.

We knew we weren't safe though; it would be a miracle if we got out of this alive.

The sound of footsteps coming down to where we were caused my heart to speed up. It pounded in my ears and I thought it would be audible to anyone around us. Pressing my hands to my chest, I willed myself to calm down. I had to calm down!

It was the stench that appeared first, unclean, dirty… as if they were rotting. Will pressing a hand over my nose when I felt myself start gagging. The people who didn't go into hiding huddled together, and I could see them cowering in fear as two men calm down the steps. I couldn't hear what was being said before someone up top yelled down at them giving them an order or some kind. The two looked at each other and moved.

I still hear the screams of agony ringing inside my head, the sound of swords cutting through flesh and bodies dropping to the floor. The scent of spilt blood burned my eyes and made my stomach turn violently. Yet, we remained quiet and still. They found everyone aboard the ship… but somehow, they missed us. By some miracle, they never thought to check our hiding spot and once they were finished, they returned up top to the deck. We could hear people talking above us as someone yelled out incoherent orders. Footsteps echoed against the deck as the sounds and voices started to fade.

We waited with bated breath, wondering if it was safe to leave our hiding spot. Will and I were trembling though, fear gripped our hearts as we held onto one another for strength. There was no sound coming from the ship, no footsteps, no creaking of the wood. Just… silence. Tentatively, we started shifting the rubble we used as a cover, trying our best to avoid looking at the bodies littered around us. Hand in hand, we carefully made our way to the deck, and I remember feeling my stomach drop in sickness and horror. Blood was splattered everywhere, bodies sprawled about, unmoving. My stomach turned violently at the sight and smell that assaulted our noses and ran towards the taffrails, unleashing whatever was in my stomach at the time.

I had never felt so ill or sick in my life. Will was at my side, rubbing my back soothingly. He was pale in the face, and looked sick also, but some how he was able to stomach it. I don't know how. When my bout finished, and took a couple deep, shaky breaths, trying to get my bearings again. I gripped the taffrail tightly before opening my eyes to stare into the usually calming blue sea.

Something whistled through the air and the sound of a crack caused Will and I to duck as something ripped through the ship, causing it to rock violently. A moment later it happened again. The ship continued to rock as cannon balls assaulted the ship, throwing my brother and I around. Then, came the eruption of flame and smoke, something had caught on fire.

I honestly don't know how we survived… It was chaos as Will and I tried staying together, but the ship kept rocking until it started to break apart and with the cannon fire, it was hard to keep our balance. I don't remember how I fell into the water, but I could hear my brother yelling out my name, but it was muffled from the water in my ears as I tried getting my bearings. It wasn't long before a splash alerted me of Will being thrown into the water as well as the ship began to sink. Coughing, we swam towards one another, using every ounce of strength we had before clasping each other's hand. Will was stunned as he watched the destroyed ship while I looked around for something we could use as a raft. When I spotted something, I tugged on Will's hand, and together we swam towards it.

"Come on, will… we have to make it." I panted, noticing my brother's swimming beginning to slow.

"I don't have the strength, Genny…" Will responded, turning to me with exhausted eyes.

"Just a little more, Will. We're almost there." I urged him, not mentioning that my own strength was almost diminished too.

I just knew we had to get to that bit of floating debris. We managed to reach it and pull ourselves onto the plank, laying sprawled across it. Our hands were clasped together as we panted, fighting off the urge to close our eyes. I looked up at the horizon and saw a ship sailing into the distance.

A black ship with pitch-black sails fluttering in the wind.

That was the last image I saw before my own vision turned dark.