When she awoke, James was gone again. Two guards arrived to escort her to her cell and the trend repeated. She received a plate of food with a note that promised another evening of deliverance, and shortly thereafter, a guard would arrive to lead her back to his room. That day, however, James had his door cracked to hear what her escort was insulting her with before she arrived, having heard what sounded like foul play occurring just outside his door. He heard him call her a "whore." The door immediately swung open and Rose's escort jumped in surprise.
"Oh! Sir, I...uh..."
"You would be wise to keep your comments about Miss Hexfury to yourself, Mister Baker," his ice cold voice sharply pierced. In spite of herself, Rose smiled at his efforts to protect her dignity.
"My apologies, sir. I didn't know you were standing there."
Rose could feel the chilling silence that proceeded. James then said to her, grabbing her hand and leading her inside, "Rose, if you would care to come in, I'll be right with you." He left her inside and joined Baker outside the room.
Rose quietly snuck toward the door, which James had forgotten to close all the way. She heard the exchange that proceeded:
"I couldn't help but notice, Baker, that you apologized for not knowing I overheard you, and not that you dishonored her."
"Honor, sir? She's a pirate! She has no honor!"
"She's still a woman, and I will not tolerate that language around her. Make that clear to your friend on tomorrow's night shift...and every shift forthwith! Or perhaps you would prefer that I take you all before Beckett and he can deal with you!"
Rose was beaming. That was until she heard Baker's unfazed response:
"Beggin' your pardon, sir, but you have no such authority over me."
"Excuse me?" asked James furiously.
"You fell into a disgraced state. And now you've returned and immediately began...let's call it courting a pirate gal condemned to death. And keepin' 'er alive all this time. The men are prepared to speak."
Rose gasped silently. This life was not to last much longer. James would have no choice but to give her up, lest he himself be hurt, and Rose was not about to let that happen. Not after all the unwarranted kindness he had shown her.
James kept calm surprisingly well. "Is this to be blackmail, then?"
"If you care to call it that sir, then yes."
She heard James turn, to which she instantly backed up to avoid him knowing that she had overheard the conversation. But he never opened the door. She leaned forward again to hear what was now occurring.
She caught the tail end of James's intensely whispered threat to Baker. "...between you and me, then. If I ever hear you say those things to her again, you will answer to me. Cut out Beckett altogether. Understood?"
This was not wise. If Baker was in the least bit spiteful, which it seemed that he was, he could rush to Beckett at any moment and give Norrington's plan away, whatever plan it was.
So engrossed was Rose at this new threat to his and her safety, that she never heard the door open.
"How much did you hear?" James asked softly.
Her silent response provided his answer. After a moment, he took her arm and led her to their typical conversing places.
"I don't care what they say about me," Rose finally said. "I've had far worse thrown at me in the past. And after all, I am a prisoner. I deserve no better than anyone else."
When he said nothing in response, Rose decided to change the subject. In a humorous tone, she mused, "I do wish that I could have experienced what it feels like to be on this island without being either in hiding or being hunted," Still silence. She added cautiously, "Each time I have been here, it's always had something to do with hangings. I'm sure it's a lovely island otherwise."
"You aren't missing much," he muttered.
"So…you live here? In this room?"
He was quiet for a moment, then he responded, "It might not be much better than a cell, but yes. I don't have any other home."
"Oh," she said simply. This was bewildering to her, as she assumed that an Admiral would have better facilities at his beck and call.
Reading her tone and assuming that these were her exact thoughts, James corrected himself. "I did have someplace else, but…that's all gone now."
Rose nodded understandingly, then decided to change the subject. "It is a beautiful looking island, at least from afar. Certainly there must be good times here."
"It used to be that way," he said morbidly. "Perhaps it could have stayed that way had your half-brother not graced our shores with his presence. That's when things changed around here."
Rose shifted restlessly in her seat. "But surely it can't all be bad. For instance, what would one do for fun here?"
There was a hint of amusement in his voice as he replied, "Port Royal is nothing like Tortuga, Rose. And I am not the man to consult about leisure here."
She was not giving up that easily. "But what about dancing? Parties?"
"I only ever attended to make an appearance."
Rose leaned forward. "You are just about the most morbid person I have ever met," she said good-naturedly, giving a wry grin.
"Says the girl who not a fortnight ago said she had nothing left to live for."
Her face fell back into a somber expression as she stated earnestly, "If I am to remain living, I need something to look forward to."
"And what about you?" he said in a little more light hearted manner, leaning towards her. "What fun was there in the place you grew up? A pirate ship? Jolly good times pillaging and killing, eh?"
"I never lived there for long," Rose corrected. "But regardless, there's fun to be had anywhere."
He snorted. "Aye, trade places with me for a day and you'll see just what happiness exists in my world," he muttered again bitterly.
This did not phase Rose, for she merely leaned back against the stone wall and mused, "Just as you intend to crack the truth from me, I intend to find the fun in you, Admiral."
"The difference in our plans is that mine actually has a practical application."
"And mine doesn't? My god, when was the last time you actually smiled?"
He was silent for a moment, then gave a slight laugh as he reminisced. "I suppose it was Tortuga, now that you mention it. It was a rum-induced stupor, but losing everything has a funny way of clearing the mind. It showed me how the other half lives. And I had lived for so long thinking my life as good and theirs evil, and when I finally crossed to the opposite side of things…" His voice trailed off, and then he suddenly shut down with a sharp, "Never mind."
"No, what?"
He paused, until finally muttering, "It's just…suddenly I found myself to be the villain."
"Why?" Rose asked, her voice low.
"Because the villain never prospers in stories. I had been deceiving myself the whole time."
"Why return to your own life then, if you weren't happy?"
"I don't belong in your life, Rose. Yes, I was unhappy with mine, but at least I could belong. Only now do I find that even that notion is pure fantasy."
Silence descended again, but his words were troubling. All of a sudden, sounds of rustling around stirred Rose from her thoughts. Before she knew quite what was happening, she felt James sit next to her. A cold glass object was pressed into her right hand, and she moved her hand up its shape to determine that it was indeed a bottle. Smiling, she took a sip of the rum, though she had never been much inclined to the taste before, she would make an exception to this moment of rare kindness from James.
"I took a page out of Jack's book," he explained. "Hate to admit it, but the fellow does have a point with the blasted drink." After, she passed it back to him, and they continued to pass it between them until the supply was depleted. The silence in this moment ballooned into mutual respect in this simple action of drinking together, but Rose found herself so immensely grateful for the temporary removal of all of James's defensive qualities.
She smiled warmly and turned towards her now relaxed and peaceful companion, saying in the kindest way she could muster, "I think you can find joy by being the hero in this world of villainy. I think you are doing the right thing— and I am not just saying this because it's my life you are saving."
Silence. Rose had no way of knowing if he was smiling in agreement or staring blankly into the dark void that he saw his life as. But she felt his arm press against hers, a simple action that emphasized all the support she needed.
Warm and soothed from the drink, Rose gradually lost all concept of space and time and let her mind drift off into sleep. Her mind remained relatively still until her recurrent nightmare began to encroach on her peaceful slumber. Everything was as it usually unfolded: she would run straight into Ben's arms, then he would suddenly shift, tossing her into a seemingly bottomless ravine. Ben's twisted, maniacal grin would grow further and further from her, and right as her body made contact with the ground, she would usually awaken, but there were times when Rose would not wake upon hitting the ground, and instead bathe in the immense pain that surrounded her broken body. Another man would then appear out of the shadows and begin to slowly piece her back together, though she too could not make out his face. Tonight, however, Rose caught her first glimpse of who this second man was, and the revelation jolted her out of the world of the dream and back into reality; the man piecing her broken body back together was James.
Rose quickly blinked awake, her pulse elevated. Her eyes adjusted to the sunlight streaming into the room, and only then did she realize that not only had she and James had fallen asleep in the same positions in which they had shared the bottle of rum, but James was still asleep by her side, his head resting against the wall and her head resting on his shoulder. Gingerly, Rose sat up, still greatly disturbed by her dream. As her heartbeat slowed to a manageable rate, she took the opportunity to study him. She hadn't clearly seen him since the first day he had called her out of line, as every meeting proceeding had been at night. She had no idea that he didn't wear the wig when they were alone together, instead letting his natural brown hair show. He had a strong brow and jaw that seemed tense even as he slept, and Rose couldn't help but notice how swollen the areas under his eyes were. He was clearly under a great amount of stress, and she suddenly found herself thinking thoughts of concern about his wellbeing.
She looked away and stayed staring at various objects in the room until a knock from one of the guards posted outside stirred James and she was soon after taken back to her cell, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts and confusing emotions.
