Ash stayed almost exclusively to her room for the next two weeks. When she did come out, it was only to attend to meals, or to go to the head. Whenever someone tried to speak to her, she hardly heard them, and refused to answer questions about what she had been up to. Every day, they neared Roger's hideout, and Jack began to worry. Just when he started to be concerned, however, Ash finally emerged from her room. She stood near the rail and closed her eyes, breathing in the sea air and feeling her head spin. Feeling someone come up behind her, she opened her eyes and turned. Of course it was Jack.

"How are you feeling?" he asked cautiously.

Perhaps she had locked herself away for so long because she had been ill?

"Nervous," she admitted, "But I think I might have an answer on how to deal with Roger."

"Knew you could do it!" Jack beamed.

"Easy there, I haven't managed it yet," Ash warned, "But promise me you won't get in the way. I don't want you anywhere nearby when I'm confronting him."

When he only frowned, Ash continued.

"You must trust me. If his attention is on you and not me he could kill you before I have a chance to finish him."

"He could kill you before you kill him," Jack said seriously.

"Which is a chance I'll have to take," Ash replied firmly, "You were willing to take that risk too, because you asked me to do this for you."

Jack looked away from her, suddenly noticing the flaw in his original plan. It kicked his worrying up another notch, but he was determined to hide it from her. She couldn't know how much he cared about her, she would laugh in his face.

"What is that?" someone asked.

Ash looked to the port side and saw a fog rolling in, but it wasn't a normal fog. It was colored a sickening yellow-green. Out of the gloom, a ship lurched towards them across the waves, and a voice howled it's fury.

"SPAAARROW!"

The tiny hairs on the back of Ash's neck stood up, and she immediately pulled a handful of pecans from a small belt pouch, cramming them into her mouth and chewing fervently. Looking around for Jack, she jerked her head at him to get below and out of sight. He started to run in that direction, then skidded to a halt when a burst of yellow-green fog appeared on his ship right in front of Ash, a dark figure appearing inside it. Jack couldn't get to the hatch leading below now without attracting the figure's attention, so he ran back the way he came and ducked under the stairs outside his quarters. Ash swallowed her mouthful as the figure stepped out of the fog, and her jaw dropped. It was at least a good seven feet tall, it's right hand was more of a... well, she wasn't sure what it was, except some sort of pointy knife combined with what looked like a pistol. It wasn't human at all. It was a skeleton, dressed in tattered rags and a hat with dreadlocks and a curious symbol on it's bone white forehead.

Oh shiiiiiiit... was all Ash could think. She had never faced anything like this before in her life, and suddenly started praying to whatever God that was listening that her plan worked.

"Where's that yellow coward Sparrow?" the skeleton demanded.

Ash took a deep, ragged breath, gathering her resolve before she answered.

"What, you mean I'm not good enough for you, Roger?"

Jolly Roger tilted his skeletal head to one side, dark gaping eye sockets boring into her.

"What's this then? Jack Sparrow got himself a lackey to do his dirty work?"

"I wouldn't put it that way, but if you want to, it makes no difference to me. I'm sending you to the afterlife today either way."

With that, she pulled a little ball that hung on her belt and flung it hard at the deck before her. When it struck the deck, it burst and a cloud of dark smoke rose abruptly in the air. Roger stepped forward to grab the tiny human, but she wasn't there when the smoke cleared. He looked around for a moment, then fell over backwards as something struck him dead center of his forehead. Watching intently from the crow's nest, Ash cursed to herself as she saw him get up, a hole in the middle of the rune on his forehead. She had thought perhaps that was what kept him going, and if it was destroyed, he would be taken care of. But no such luck. Now it was back to her original plan. But before she could move, Roger vanished. On instinct, she turned and saw him appear on the yardarm behind her. He raised his bony left hand in her direction, and that sickening yellow-green fog rolled from him towards her.

Hidden on the deck below, Jack watched in horror. There was no way she could block fog or escape it in time. It was going to reach her, hut her, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. But miraculously, the fog stopped a foot from her, seemingly hitting an invisible wall and spreading up and down, pooling like smoke. Roger snarled, producing more of the fog, which rolled and consumed the area around Ash until it was all around her in a sphere, held back by some unseen force. Ash smiled tauntingly at Roger.

"You can't turn me into part of your undead army. I'm very good at energy shields."

As the fog began to dissipate and Roger dropped his arm, his other hand came up suddenly. The one that was more weapon than hand. Jack didn't see what happened, but Ash cried out in pain, stumbling back, and fell to the deck below. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, too terrified and stunned to even shout. But she managed to grab a rope which helped slow her down if not stop her completely, and she landed on her feet. She didn't stay on them for long. Ash fell to her knees, releasing the rope and holding her hands out palm up. Jack saw they were shaking, and the palms were red and raw. Rope burn. He also saw her right side was bright red with blood. Roger had cut her in a diagonal line from her right hip up the front of her body, over her ribs. Everything in him told him to move, to go to her, to stop Roger from hurting her more. The only thing that held him in place was her warning from earlier. He couldn't reveal himself. Not yet. She might be down, but she wasn't out. Not by a long shot. Not while she was still breathing. Ash looked up as Roger appeared in front of her. Her hands stung, her side hurt like hell, and her head was light and clear, as if she was drunk.

"Give it up, woman. I'll spare ye if ye hand over Sparrow."

Ash spat on the deck at his feet.

"Over my dead body," she growled.

"Ye all say that as if it can't be arranged," Roger responded.

As he raised his weaponized hand, Ash closed her eyes and started muttering under her breath. Jack thought she was praying, until he saw Roger step back in shock.

"Wait... what are ye..."

She opened her eyes and glared at Roger, words pouring from her lips. She wasn't praying, Jack realized, she was chanting something. A spell of some sort. He watched as she pressed a hand to her side, wincing in pain, saw her hand come away with the palm drenched in blood. With a hand that shook, she wrote symbols on the deck of his ship in her own blood, chanting all the while. Roger began to panic.

"No! Ye can't! Not again! I must have my revenge! SPAAARROW!"

Ash's voice rose as she neared the end of her spell, practically spitting the words out in a mixture of what seemed to be determination and rage. It wasn't a language Jack recognized, and as he watched the scene, he felt like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over him. Then, cracks appeared in the bones that made up Roger's body, spreading rapidly until he was completely covered in them. From there, his bones began to crumple and fall as he screamed in fear and fury, until he was nothing but a pile of ashes on the deck. But even this was torn away by a wind that picked up, lifting the dust into the air and scattering them to the sea. Roger was, finally, well and truly dead. For a moment, Jack felt ferocious relief and joy fill him.

Until he saw Ash shudder and collapse to the deck.

He raced over and saw her entire body was shaking so hard she was practically jerking around in her own skin. When he touched her, her skin was like ice. She was conscious, but barely, her eyes opened to mere slits.

"F – F – Fucking c – cold," she muttered, her eyes closing.

"No," Jack said, shaking his head, "Don't you dare die on me, Ash. That is an order from your captain, do you understand?"

She didn't answer except to give a weak smile.

Panicking, Jack gathered her up in his arms and raced to his quarters. He put her in his own bed and put a blanket over her legs. Jahir appeared with more blankets that Jack suspected he stole from the crew's beds, but he didn't care. He put more blankets over her legs, then some across her chest and arms. He covered her in blankets completely, except for the gash in her right side. That had to be dealt with, and he searched his brain for the steps she used to take with these kinds of wounds.

The crew was right behind Jahir, bringing in every sort of supplies they even suspected might be of use. From these, Jack selected a wad of bandages, which he pressed to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. The silence in that room was deafening. He watched her face intently while he waited, but her eyes were closed. Her shaking had stopped, and she looked peaceful. For a terrifying moment, he thought she might be dead, until he remembered to check her pulse. It was faint, but it was there. He sighed, relieved, and checked the wound. It had stopped bleeding. Next, he cleaned the gash and peered at it worriedly. Should he put in stitches? Was it deep enough? He didn't know. He didn't think so. So instead, he put a dressing on the wound that he remembered her using on others in the past. Next, he put a padding of bandages over it. Jahir propped her up so that Jack could wrap more bandages around her waist, securing his work in place. When he finished, Jahir set her back down, and they re arranged the blankets so that she was completely covered from the neck down past her feet. Stepping back, Jack looked down at her, frowning. He didn't know what else to do. He felt so useless. He should know to do more than this.

"I an' I should make her some tea," Jahir said suddenly.

Jack looked over at him, surprised. He should have thought of that.

"Aye, of course. Do you know which herb to...?"

He trailed off as the big man shook his head morosely. Looking back at the sleeping woman, Jack sighed and spoke again.

"Just do your best then."

It seemed like that was all any of them could do. He turned and saw the entire crew clustered behind them, looking over at Ash with concerned expressions.

"Get out," he told them, "I'll stay with her."

They cleared the room reluctantly, and Jack pulled a chair over to sit beside Ash. He would not leave until she woke up. Hours passed. Every so often he would check her pulse, each time terrified that he would find it missing. But she finally woke. The first indication of this was when she spoke, as her eyes were still closed.

"Ow."

Jack looked over at her immediately, noticing her fair face contorted into a grimace of pain.

"You're alright," he said, relieved.

"No, my head is killing me," she groaned.

Jack let out a shaky sigh.

"Don't make jokes, love. Not about that."

Ash's eyes opened very slightly. She peered at him intently though the thin slits of her vision, but he didn't notice because he had gone to the door to call for Jahir to bring tea and food. Did he mean to say that? It didn't seem like he even realized what he said. Whatever. She could deal with that later, if she had to. Her head was throbbing, and now that she took note of it, her side ached too, and her palms stung. But at least she was warm now.

"Who's joking?" she muttered under her breath, closing her eyes again.

She heard Jack's boots cross the floor, then heard the creak of wood as he settled into the chair again.

"What did you do? Tell me everything."

"I only focused on your side. I didn't know what else to do, or even if I did that right."

"Tell me."

He talked her though the steps he had gone through to help heal her wound, and was relieved to see her nod.

"Sounds like you did a good job. And no, it wasn't deep enough to need stitches. I didn't get a good look at it before I passed out, but I felt it."

There was a silence that stretched until it started to feel uncomfortable. Then, Jack had to ask.

"What did you do? Your injuries don't match up with your symptoms. You shouldn't have been shivering from cold and passed out just from some rope burn and getting sliced."

Ash sighed, still refusing to open her eyes.

"The fight took a great toll on my body, Jack. Mostly mentally and magickally. It doesn't help that I was wounded physically, but most of the damage is internal and nothing you can assist with. Honestly, if I didn't have some spare energy stored away in advance, the effort of eliminating him would have killed me."

Jack was about to ask what she was talking about, then remembered the pecans. Waving his hands before him, as if trying to cure his cognitive dissonance, he asked for clarification.

"You mean you stored magickal energy in a bunch of nuts?"

"Yes. That's mostly what I was doing for the past two weeks. Sleeping, because I was putting almost all I had into those pecans."

"But draining your energy didn't kill you. Why would it have killed you with Roger?"

"I didn't put more into the pecans than I had. The spell to eliminate him required more energy than my body could naturally hold at once. So I had to get more from somewhere. I wasn't willing to take energy from any of you, because you might need it. So I had to find a way to take more from myself than I could access normally, and that's when I realized I could store my own energy. Nuts are good for that because they last a while before turning bad."

"So if you were sleeping that whole time and had more strength to put into them..."

"I'll be fine," she finished for him, "Yes. My energy will naturally restore itself to normal levels with food and sleep."

Almost on cue, the door opened and Jahir stepped in.

"Captain my captain, I an' I brought you some tea."

Ash opened her eyes, and Jack helped her sit up and propped the pillows behind her for her to lean against. Jahir handed her the mug of steaming tea first. Ash blew on it's surface and sipped carefully. It was mint tea. That would have been great for indigestion or stomach ache, but she had neither of those, so it was pretty much useless to her right now except for providing comfort only a warm drink could offer. It was nice to sip on, after all, and she enjoyed how it helped warm her.

"Mmmmm. Thank you, my friend."

Jahir froze. He couldn't remember if she had ever thanked him for anything before, in spite of everything he'd done for her. He had never expected her to either. And she had definitely never called him "my friend" before. He was extremely concerned that his captain was about to drop dead, because something was very wrong here.

"I an' I also brought you some food."

Ash looked at the plate he offered, frowning skeptically.

"Oh... yay," she said in the most unenthusiastic tone ever.

And just like that, his fears were assuaged. If she was still critical of his cooking, she was fine. Jack took the plate from him, promising he would make her eat it.

"I need you to do something," Ash said suddenly as Jahir turned to go.

He watched her solemnly with his dark eyes as she gave her instructions.

"Go down to the galley and find the basil. Use one teaspoon of basil for each cup of water. Boil the water, remove from the fire, add the basil to the water. Allow it to steep for ten minutes with a tight lid on top the pot. After ten minutes, add two tablespoons of witch hazel extract. Then put a cloth in the water and bring the whole thing up here."

Jahir repeated her instructions, then Ash dismissed him. She looked at the plate of food and sighed.

"Jack..."

"No arguments. Even you admitted you needed to eat."

"I meant I would cook something decent myself," she grumbled.

"Not in the condition you're in," Jack replied firmly, "You need rest."

He held up a piece of bread and put it to her lips. Ash glared at him, but took a bite anyway. She ate her way through the entire plate of food and was laying back down when Jahir entered with the things she had ordered.

"Thank you, you can go now," she told him, "Make sure my blood is scrubbed off the deck. Every drop of it, mind. Then anything it touched is to be put in a bag weighed down and thrown overboard."

"Aye aye, captain my captain."

When he left, Ash directed Jack to take the cloth and put it on her forehead. The warmth and the scent hit her immediately, and after a few minutes, her headache began to ease. Her eyes closed, her breathing slowed, and after a while, Jack realized she had gone back to sleep. He continued to tend to her, dipping the cloth back into the concoction water when it dried out, then putting the re dampened cloth back to her forehead. The sun went down, and Jack lit some candles. Someone came in to give him some food, which he ate mechanically. After, he sat with Ash, watching over her through the night. He didn't realize he had closed his eyes, but when he heard Ash stirring, he woke immediately. The sun was up, and Ash was struggling into a sitting position.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better," she said, "Much better."

Her headache was gone, she wasn't exhausted anymore, though her hands and side still hurt.

"I need to get to the galley," she added, starting to get up.

Jack stopped her, and she sighed.

"Jack, I'm fine. I can walk. If it makes you feel better, you can come with me. I'll talk you through how to make a proper meal while I'm doing my own stuff."

He hesitated, but eventually agreed. He watched her closely as she got up and they left his quarters. Jack could tell her side was still tender and hurt her, but other than that, it appeared that she did have her strength back and could walk just fine without assistance. When they reached the galley, he made food with her telling him how, while she made some sort of gel or cream or something. She spread it on her palms, then asked for his help bandaging her hands. After that, she sat nearby while Jack fed the crew and cleaned up, then he personally made sure Ash ate. When she finished, she wanted to go to her room to sleep, but Jack physically towed her back to his quarters so she could rest in his bed.

"You're being ridiculous," she said grumpily, settling into his bed, "I'm fine."

Jack paused, then turned to face her, sitting down slowly.

"Was I this annoying when I was sick?"

"Yes," Ash said honestly.

"So this is your revenge?"

"No. This is just my natural stubbornness."

Jack rolled his eyes.

"Go to sleep."

"But I'm not tired!"

Jack was sure she was taking revenge on him.

"Please, love."

Ash closed her mouth, looking at him for a long moment before closing her eyes as well. They both got some sleep. But when Jack woke, Ash was not in his bed. He got up from his chair and ran out on deck, expecting he knew where she was, hoping he was right. And he was. She was leaning against the rail, looking out at the island off the port side. He stood there for a few minutes, soaking in the sight of her. He had few moments like this left. Soon, sooner than he liked, she would leave him. He would probably never see her again. Jack took a deep breath, smoothing the frown from his face, and walked over to her.

"You're thinking something," he stated.

Ash snorted, rolling her eyes as a smile fought it's way onto her face.

"I'm always thinking something, Jack."

"Something to do with Roger."

The smile vanished from her lips, and the smallest crease appeared between her brows as she stared at the island before her.

"Killing him doesn't mean those he enslaved are back to normal. They're on that island somewhere, and so are their souls. I have to turn them back."

"Why? You saved me from Roger, your debt to my father is settled. You're done here. You're not obligated to do more."

"My debt might be settled, but I am still obligated to do more. Not because of him, but because I am a wizard."

Jack didn't understand completely, and knew he never would. But he did understand that this was important to her, and that was all he needed to support her decision.

"You won't do it alone. Me and the lads will come with you. But not until you're completely healed."

Ash sighed.

"Jack, that will take time. Time that we don't have."

"You have somewhere else to be?"

"No, but – "

"You expect the zombified victims can swim and will escape the island, or attack us?"

"Well, no – "

"Then we have all the time in the world."

Ash sighed, frustrated.

"You're impossible."

"Aye. Like someone else I know."

Author's Note: Please introduce a friend to my story if you like it, drop a review if you care to. I'd take praise as well as constructive criticism, but not outright hate. Thanks.