A/N: Thank you so much for all of your amazing comments! You don't know how much I treasure each and every one of them! Soooo, have some angst! If I had anything approaching a soundtrack for this chapter, Abigail's song would be 'Blow your mind' by Dua Lipa and Billy's would be 'Do you still love me?' by Ryan Adams. Enjoy!


Abigail was no stranger to male bravado.

She'd experienced it when she was a child and her male cousins would find themselves injured and hold back any expression of pain or discomfort. She'd seen it in men of all ages as they paraded themselves in front of eligible ladies. She'd seen it in her father that day in Charles Town when she confronted him over Lady Hamilton's death. The way a man would puff himself up in order to project some version of stoicism and strength, even when they knew they were lying through their teeth.

Therefore, when Billy stated that a wife would be nothing more than a 'weakness and a burden', Abigail understood. He had to save face in front of Captain Flint and it wasn't as though the statement were entirely false. The very last thing Billy needed was a wife. Abigail knew this and had even said as such.

That did not, however, mean that hearing it said aloud didn't hurt.

The hurt lingered as she walked behind Madi to a small corner in the mess where the other lady poured something that looked very much like tea into beaten tin mugs.

"I'm told that this is, in fact, tea," Madi said as she poured, "But I cannot vouch for the quality or taste."

"Honestly, I'm happy to be drinking something other than lukewarm rainwater," Abigail said curling her hand around the mug and breathing in the tea's steam.

"How long were you stranded?" Madi asked, sipping from her mug.

"Nearly a month, I believe," Abigail said. "Give or take a few days."

"That's quite the adventure," Madi said. "How did you manage it?"

"I faced each day as it came," Abigail replied after sipping her tea and sighing happily at the taste, even if it was slightly burnt. "And Billy, Mr Bones, was naturally a great help."

"He's always appeared to be very capable," Madi said. "The men certainly respect him a great deal."

"Yes, they do," Abigail said quietly staring down into her mug.

"But you have no wish to marry him?"

Abigail looked up and met Madi's fiercely intelligent eyes and supposed that she missed very little. "No, I have no wish to marry him. Even if the captain insists."

"Does he need to insist?" Madi asked. "For your sake, does he need to?"

"How do you mean?"

"I'll be blunt," Madi said, setting her mug down as she leaned forward. "The men will not know how to ask, so I will. You spent a great deal of time alone with Billy Bones, could you be with child?"

Abigail's eyes widened and suddenly understood why Flint might 'insist'. "Oh, I see. No, no, I'm not." Madi raised her eyebrows and Abigail reassured her, "I understand why you may think this, but I'm not. We…" She flushed. "Nothing occurred in such a fashion that would lead to…such an outcome."

"Very well," Madi said resuming sipping her tea. "Then you are free to make your way in this world?"

"As free as any woman with limited options can be, I suppose," she said sighing. "But, may I ask? What has brought you to stand alongside these men?"

"A common enemy," Madi said smiling slightly. "The goal of my people currently aligns with that of the Brotherhood."

"Which is?" Abigail asked.

"The removal of the English from these waters and the cessation of slavery of my people."

"That is quite the undertaking."

"It is," Madi said. "You think it impossible?"

Abigail blinked. "I am hardly the person to ask, I'm afraid."

"You are a person who knows something of the world," Madi said spreading her hands out. "I gather that you've had experiences with these sorts of men."

"Not these men," Abigail interjected. "These men are…not like the others. Not all of them, at least."

"They are not all like your Billy Bones," Madi said. "Or Captain Flint."

"Or Mr Silver?" Abigail added and when Madi's lips twitched, she wondered what kind of relationship she had with Mr Silver, and supposed that she could guess. "No, they aren't. But you asked me for an opinion and I honestly don't know." She paused. "At the end of the day, nothing is impossible. I suppose I've discovered that there is a great deal more pain involved in this life than I ever could have imagined."

"Yes," Madi said. "There is a great deal of pain, indeed." She tilted her head to the side and asked, "What will you do next?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," Abigail said laughing a little. "Make my way to Nassau eventually. Figure out how to sustain myself."

"Alone?"

Billy ducking his head to kiss her flashed behind her eyes, along with the phantom sensation of his hands tugging her close and she blinked the memories away.

"Yes," Abigail said. "Alone."

Madi hummed as she nodded, and the ladies fell into a not uncomfortable silence.

After several long moments, Madi asked, "There is someone on my island who wishes to return to Nassau to be of use to our cause, but she has no wish to return to one of the plantations. Would she be welcome to accompany you when you return?"

"Of-of course," Abigail said surprised. "I should be glad of the company. I don't have any fixed plans or accommodation, however. I don't want her to be disappointed."

"Tandi has threatened to simply swim her way back to Nassau," Madi said. "Returning with you will be more than she hoped for and she'll be grateful for it."

"She wishes to take part in the ongoing situation, I presume?" Abigail asked sipping her tea once more.

"She does," Madi said. "She spent much of her life on Nassau and finds the island too confining." She paused, then said, "I hasten to add that while your help in certain situations would be appreciated, do not feel you have to support our cause."

"How can I not?" Abigail replied. "You work towards freedom from slavery. Any help I can provide, I would provide willingly." She furrowed her brow. "Although, I'm not sure what help I'd be."

"I'm sure something will present itself," Madi said smiling, before her eyes were caught by something behind Abigail. "Your Billy Bones did not mean what he said before, did he?"

Abigail's mug stopped halfway to her mouth and she knew, she absolutely knew, that he had entered the mess and looked in her direction. Happy murmurs from the crew echoed in the room and she heard the easy cadence of his voice. She felt the weight of his stare and it took every inch of self-control she possessed to bring her cup to her mouth and sip delicately.

"No," she said once she'd swallowed. "He didn't. But at the same time, he did." She shook her head. "It hardly matters."

"It matters a great deal," Madi said. "I've never seen him as…affected as he is when you're near. I've been wondering what drives him to lead the Brotherhood."

"Why don't you ask him?" Abigail asked. "He's been through a great deal, but he's never made any secret of his hatred of the English Navy and their practices. I imagine he only wishes the same as you: freedom from persecution." She met Madi's steady gaze and then looked down. "But, that's only what I imagine. You would be better served to simply ask him."

"Perhaps I will," Madi said simply. "Would you like more tea, Abigail?"

"I think I'd like some fresh air, actually," Abigail said.

"Then let us go above decks," Madi said rising and Abigail followed her.

She did long for fresh air, that was the truth. After all her time on the island, she wasn't exactly ready to be forced inside once more. But her desire to escape the mess also had a great deal to do with the man who watched her as she made her way to the stairs and out of his sight. She breathed in the sea air and was pleased to see that they were well underway.

A man came up to Madi and said something to her in a low voice. Madi nodded before she turned to Abigail, "I'm afraid I must see to something."

"Oh, of course," Abigail said smiling. "I'll be fine on my own. Thank you very much for the tea and the conversation."

Madi inclined her head and departed, her men close behind her. Abigail watched them go and swallowed hard as panic seized her.

She felt exposed and so very alone on the deck and she moved to a narrow corner out of the way of the men as they managed the sails. Fast winds brushed over her neck and she fought the urge to play with her hair. She'd deliberately fashioned her hair atop her head to give herself a bit more gravitas than her simple braid provided. Lady Hamilton's clothes were loose, but she'd cinched in the ties as best as she could and the clean, if musty, fabric felt good against her skin. She hoped she looked more at ease than she felt and stepped out of the little alcove.

Movement just above her caught her eye and she saw Captain Flint on the top deck, staring through an eyeglass at the sea ahead of them.

Gathering her courage, she made her way to him.

Good Lord, she thought as she looked out over the sea, Had it only been this morning that I woke in his arms?

She shoved such thoughts to the back of her mind and approached Flint quietly. He accepted her company with a nod.

"Miss Ashe," he said. "Are you well?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied coming to stand beside him and the both looked out over the water. "Madi is very kind."

"Yes, she is," Flint said somewhat wryly. "I don't think I need to tell you that the island we're going to is to be kept secret?"

Abigail smirked a little. "Who would I tell?"

Flint frowned at that. "Is there truly no one? Billy…mentioned that you were on your own."

"Did he?" she asked, almost amused.

"In actual fact, he said that you had fallen on desperate times following…what occurred," Flint said wincing.

"He's right, I did," Abigail said. "I understand if that knowledge is what leads you to feel a…responsibility towards my future, but I want to assure you, I'll be quite all right on my own."

"He's not a bad sort," he said, a little wryly. "You could do far worse than Billy Bones."

"Oh, I know I could," she said laughing quietly. "But he and I have both had quite enough of being forced into situations for no other reason that pure circumstance and I have no wish to continue that trend."

"I understand that, Miss Ashe," he said looking at her and she met his gaze as best she could. "But I cannot ignore that I do bear some responsibility for your future."

"I truly wish you didn't feel that way," she said frowning. "And I cannot stop you, I suppose. But do know this, captain, I left the Americas to escape a fate comprised of a forced marriage and I will not bow to anyone's wishes apart from my own. I will no longer be a pawn to be moved across a board not of my own making."

He sighed and nodded. "I hear you, Miss Ashe. I don't like it, but I do hear you." He glanced at her dress and his expression softened a little. "Miranda would have taken your side, I think."

"Thank you, that's…very kind of you to say." She worried her lip before she continued, "I…wanted to tell you…" She closed her eyes and said quickly, "I made sure she was properly buried."

For a moment, the only sounds around them was the crash of the waves against the ship and the shouts from the crew. Abigail opened her eyes and glanced at Flint. He stood utterly still, his hands wrapped around his spyglass so tightly his knuckles were white.

She swallowed. "She's buried in a small village outside of Savannah. It was a Christian burial, I made sure of it."

And Abigail had. Before she joined her father's friends in Savannah, she'd made sure to do this one thing and had Lady Hamilton's body recovered from the square with no thought towards expense. Her father's body she'd left to the town council to see to.

"I…" Flint cleared his throat. "Thank you, Miss Ashe. She thought highly of you and of your composure during a difficult time."

"I thought highly of her," Abigail said softly. "She had a way about her, didn't she? She saw everything you tried to hide from the world, and yet never called attention to it."

"That she did," he said and when she glanced at him, his mouth was twisted in a way that spoke to her own internal sorrows and a secret knowledge that Abigail had held hard and cold inside herself cracked.

"After Charles Town, some of my father's belongings were sent on to me," she said, as she stared out at the sea, her eyes unseeing. "Among them were his journals which he'd always kept. I read them all. I couldn't help myself. In one, he spoke of you. Of Lord Thomas Hamilton and Lady Hamilton. Of such wonderful ideals that excited him and that he hoped he could see to their fruition." She blinked and her gaze fell to the rigging. "Then one day, he made an entry that only read 'Lord Alfred Hamilton came to visit me at my home today.' Nothing more was written."

He sucked in a breath and she waited a moment, before she continued, "The entries went back to normal. Detailing his activities and his meetings. Until one day, he wrote 'It is done.'" She looked down at her hands where they clutched Lady Hamilton's borrowed skirts. "I've never been able to determine if he wrote such a brief entry about his betrayal of you because he felt so very much or because he felt so very little. I suppose I'll never truly know."

Flint exhaled and leaned forward, one hand gripped the wooden rail as his head bowed. "Miss Ashe-"

"It was you, wasn't it?" Her voice broke a little as she asked the question she already knew the answer to, but needed to hear spoken out loud. "That day in Charles Town; it was you?"

He drew in another breath and stood straight, his gaze still fixed out at the sea. "Yes, it was."

She nodded, absently. "Was it quick?"

There was a pause and then he replied, "No."

"No," she repeated quietly. "No, I don't suppose it would have been."

They stood in silence and Abigail looked down at the deck below. Her eyes immediately found Billy where he stood tall amongst the crew, his eyes on her, even as he hauled in the rigging. Oh, she wanted to hate him. She wished with every fibre of her being that she could just hate and linger in some kind of hatred at him and at his words so carelessly spoken. Perhaps if she could find some way of hating, she could stop caring so much.

But she couldn't. It simply wasn't in her nature to hate. Point in fact, she currently stood beside a man that she had every reason in the world to hate. He'd just admitted that he killed her father and that was more than enough reason to despise the man.

Except, when she dug deep inside herself, she couldn't find it inside to hate Flint. Not when his reasons for his actions were steeped in betrayal and the fiercest love.

So, as she stared at Billy, who stared back at her with regret etched across his face, she found nothing inside herself but her own regrets.

Just as she couldn't hate Flint for what he'd done to her father, she couldn't hate Billy for his priorities.

And you don't want to, do you? she thought. How horrible would it be to hate all the time?

She breathed in and out as she thought rebelliously, However, I can still be angry with the ridiculous man.

After some time, Flint straightened and looked over at her. She stared back and he nodded.

"Would you care to repair back to the salon?" he asked. "I need to look over the map and we can get a hammock set up for you." He looked away. "Madi is currently residing in the salon, along with myself and Mr Silver, but I'm sure you have no wish to stay below." He met her eyes again and she wondered if it was something close to ruefulness she saw reflected in his eyes. "I'm sure I could find some writing instruments if you've missed the habit of keeping a journal."

"I have," she said. "The island was sadly lacking in certain areas." She paused. "Although, I did discover I have a talent for fishing."

He raised his eyebrows. "Indeed? We'll have to see how you do on the open sea."

"You mentioned a map," she said. "Would you be able to show me where we were? The island, I mean."

"I'd be happy to," he said and he gestured with his hand. "After you, Miss Ashe."

"Thank you, captain," she said and she preceded him down the stairs. She spared the quickest of glances up to the rigging and saw Billy staring down at her. A futile sense of longing tugged at her and she forced herself to look away.

One step at a time, Abigail, she thought as she turned her back to the rigging. You'll get through this like you've gotten through everything else. One step at a time.


Billy watched Abigail as she stood next to Flint and fought every single urge in his body that screamed for him to run over to her and pull her away from the man. He'd even felt the muscles in his legs ready themselves to stride, but he stopped when she met his eyes. The expression on her face was one he knew. That soft look that said she knew who he was and what he'd done and forgave him anyway. He felt a smile twitch onto his face, but stopped when her expression hardened slightly and she looked away.

Ah.

Right.

Not exactly forgiven then.

Fair enough.

Christ, he thought. More than fair enough.

"Come on, Bones," someone shouted. "Put your back into it, man! Get up that rigging! Make sure you still know how!"

"Get fucked!" he shouted back with a laugh but did as asked, and headed up the rigging, a coil of rope over his shoulder.

He couldn't make things right with Abigail and fix what was a fucked up situation from the start, but this?

This he could do.

He could fucking work alongside his brothers and he relished the burn of the rope against his hands as he climbed. The wind whipped around him and he grinned at the feel of it against his freshly shaved chin. He pulled himself onto the mizzen and went to work. While he moved, moments of the meeting in the salon with Flint and Silver tugged at his mind.

"Murphy said something about edicts when we saw him," Billy'd said as the three men stood in the salon around the table and the map, trying desperately to move past the confrontation in the hall with Abigail. "What's that about?"

"The governor is trying to take control over Nassau by a, shall we say, soft and quiet method," Silver said. "He thinks that if he slowly shows the people what civilization can be, they'll be more than happy to fall in line." He looked at Billy. "They aren't."

"Half the island can't read so there's not much point to them," Flint added. "I'd almost consider the entire thing a petty annoyance, but there's enough of his 'soldiers' about the place to make things serious enough."

Billy frowned. "He got his mercenaries, then?"

"Enlisted men, or so we're told," Silver said. "Came from other Navy strongholds in the area. We still outnumber them, so they're sticking to arresting members of the Brotherhood on petty crimes."

"It'll work," Billy said rubbing his chin. "Seen it before. You just keep wearing people down with annoyances, and eventually they give in." He shook his head. "He knows he's outmanned and he also knows that the reason the Spanish haven't attacked is because of the Brotherhood and our firepower."

"Of course he does," Silver said. "Meaning he'll do something more dramatic than posting notices and when he does, it'll probably have far-reaching consequences."

"How are the supply lines holding up?" Billy asked.

"Just," Flint said. "After we see the Maroons and get back to Nassau, you need to see to the men on the island."

"Why are we going to the Maroon Island?" Billy asked.

"To update the queen," Silver said, fixing Billy with a look that said, 'I know you're still angry over what they did to the men, but stow it away.' Billy understood what he was saying, but he didn't bloody like it. "And apparently, word has spread that Nassau is something of a safe haven for those who are looking for one."

"A safe haven?" Billy repeated. "Really?"

"Your Miss Ashe seems to think so," Silver added and Billy narrowed his eyes. "The lady must be terribly capable if she's refusing your hand so vehemently."

"Are you trying to say something?" Billy asked, as Flint crossed his arms over his chest. "Because if you are, just say it. I've spent the last month on an island and if you're about to lecture me on something, I think I'd like a drink in my hand first."

"And a shave, no doubt," Silver said grinning. "And no. I have nothing further to add, except…" He looked away and then back at Billy. "She's smart and she's kind and she's determined. And that, my friend, is a heady combination. Believe me."

Billy glared at Silver and then at Flint, who looked on Silver with that damnable smirk of his.

"I need to see the men," Billy said, fed up with whatever wasn't being said and still sick to his stomach after being so mindlessly cruel in his words about Abigail.

Flint nodded. "I'm sure Mr DeGroot will want you back on the rigging. He's been muttering under his breath again."

"Christ," Billy said shaking his head. "Yeah, I'll find him." He glanced between the two men and wondered just how much he'd missed on that island and if he'd ever shake off the feeling that something fundamental had changed inside him.

The feeling lingered while he listened to the men in the mess and did his best to ignore Abigail sitting, as pretty and as calm as you like, drinking tea, of all things, with Madi. Billy had no hard feelings against the other woman, but still the sight of them talking earnestly did something to his insides.

And then when she walked away without a word…

Up in the rigging, he tugged hard on a line deliberately to feel the burn in his palm. He glanced back down and looked for her. She walked down the stairs, Flint close behind her and Billy fucking burned.

He hadn't felt this out of his depth since he woke up on that fucking beach surrounded British soldiers. He glanced back the way they came, but the island was no longer in sight. That fucking island. It'd messed with his head, clearly. He'd never considered… Christ, had he actually proposed to her just that morning?

Baring his teeth a bit as he tightened the lines, he cursed himself for a fool. And Billy Bones wasn't a fool. He could be a bit blind, he knew that, but he wasn't a fool and he knew marrying her would have ruined her life in a multitude of ways, but all the same…

Oh, for fuck's sake, man, get a hold of yourself, he thought. You're fucking angry because her saying 'no' hurt your pride. And you've nicely returned the favour by being a prick to her, so call it even and move the fuck on. No letting anyone know how close you came to…whatever all that almost was.

Something whispered, Oh, lad, you know damn well what it almost was.

But then, because there was nothing else to do in this situation that he'd made for himself, he went back to work.

Later, in the mess, he sat with Ben Gunn and some of the others, listening to DeGroot explain the repairs they'd done after the storm. Well, to be clear, he listened with half his attention on DeGroot, the other half was focussed on the table by the wall where Flint, Silver, Madi and Abigail sat. Silver seemed to be the only one talking and if the expressions of the others was anything to go by, he was being his usual charming self.

Billy took a long drink and returned his attention to DeGroot.

"'Course, we really ought to careen her soon," DeGroot said scowling into his mug. "Though I doubt we'll be able to convince the captain on it."

"The hull springs a leak, and it'll convince him," Billy said.

DeGroot made to say something else, but Dooley sat himself down between Billy and Ben, and leaned on Billy's shoulder.

"Right," he said and Billy smelled the rum on his breath. "A fucking month, Bones. A fucking month alone on an island. I got a lot of coin riding on the fact that you did a bit of riding yourself."

Billy froze and he heard Ben curse under his breath and DeGroot sighed.

"Dooley," DeGroot said. "Don't start something Billy'll have to finish."

"What?" Dooley asked grinning. "It's a fucking sensible question that led to a reasonable assumption." He clapped a hand on Billy's shoulder. "You had 'er, right? I mean, all alone and Jesus wept, she's such a –"

Before anyone could stop him, or before he even knew what he was doing himself, Billy was on his feet, his hands fisted in Dooley's shirt as he slammed the other man against the hull.

"Thought the crew had been told to be respectful, yeah?" Billy hissed. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

The men around them shouted and clapped as Dooley grinned. "Better had, Bones. Don't want you going soft on us now."

He pushed Billy's stomach and Billy backed off and ducked as Dooley threw the first punch. Something in Billy's brain yelled at him to not do this, not here, not in front of her, while another voice said to do it. Prove to himself and to the men and to Silver and Flint and to her that this was where he belonged.

He took a punch to the gut with a grunt but rebounded with a sharp jab to Dooley's kidneys.

"Fuck," Dooley hissed. "There he is, lads! Come on, Bones!"

"You miserable fuck," Bones growled and ducked another swing.

"Oi!" Silver shouted grinning. "If you lot are going to tear each other apart, do it where the rest of us aren't eating!"

The men around Billy roared and shoved him and Dooley towards the stairs. He caught the briefest glance at Abigail's face, her eyes round and wide-eyed with worry. He almost said something, but he caught sight of Flint staring at him. Practically daring him to reveal himself to the crew.

Billy looked away from them both and let himself be carried along by the men to the quarter deck.

The air was fresh as the sun set and Dooley grinned at him and immediately took a swing. Billy dodged him easily and as he set his jaw and curled his hand into a fist, he felt his blood surge in him. His arm swung and when his knuckles connected with Dooley's cheekbone and a familiar sting spread through Billy's hand as his skin spilt.

Yeah.

This is who he was. This is what he was. There was no turning away from his nature, there never had been. Being on that island, being with her…that was a dream, a fairy tale.

This was real. Blood on his hands and on the deck beneath his feet, his brothers shouting around him as he took a hit to the ribs and returned it in kind to Dooley.

This was his life.

Damn it all to hell, he thought as he punched Dooley in the mouth, splitting the other man's lip, sending blood spraying to the deck. God damn this all to hell.

And he swung again.